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Fool's Paradise

by Shelby

summary: she didn't want to be 'Miss Haruno' to him . . . but Sakura, sexy, alluring Sakura. AU. Konoha high school fic.

rating: T (15+)

setting: konoha high (AU)

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"I don't want to repeat my innocence.

I want the pleasure of losing it again."

-from This Side of Paradise by F. Scott Fitzgerald

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When he was first placed in her sixth period English class, Miss Haruno had been a bit … surprised. He was obviously different from the other students, stuck out like a sore thumb, actually.

Still. She hadn't been expecting this.

Creamy colored skin, smooth, unmarred (how many teenaged boys has Miss Haruno seen with skin problems, the common ailment of adolescence?)

Dark, blue-tinted hair that spiked almost humorously, long bangs framing his face (had she ever seen such hair on any student male or female?)

But it was truly his eyes – dark, obsidian, endless, with gray sunflowers around his pupils.

Gorgeous.

To him, she wanted not to be Miss Haruno. She wanted to be Sakura, sultry and beautiful Sakura, lacy black bra and red lipstick Sakura.

Perhaps it was wrong, terrible that Miss Haruno gave her favorite student an A on papers about topics she knew he hated, had heard him say he didn't like in as few words as possible when she inquired to all of her students what they thought of the reading material. Downright inexcusable that she asked him to stay after class to help her with some things when he agreed silently, looking at her with eyes that stirred something deep within the corners of her mind, hungry. Or were those eyes only in her imagination?

The year, what was left of the year, went much too quickly. Her calendar, with daily literary quotes she often read aloud to her students to quiz them upon the authors, was growing thinner with a vengance to her sexual curiosity.

A curiosity for him. Uchiha Sasuke.

How Sakura wished she could see him, not see him as a student, but truly see Sasuke – wanting her. But what a funny thought it was! She was 25 (he was 17). Her boyfriend was generous, and kind, but didn't touch her the way that she pictured how her student would touch her, gaze at her, ravish her. It was his eyes that did it. It was . . . funny. Hilarious. Delightful. As many adjectives as she knew.

Then, there was one day, a peculiar day. Such peculiar days are so odd, so filled with strangeness that often one knows that a day will be out of the ordinary when one first awakes.

This day was very peculiar, for Miss Haruno was not at all as busy as she should have been on a Thursday afternoon. Her manilla To-Do folder was not fat with to-dos; quite a few students were missing due to a sports event at a rival high school, and a final drama club practice that fell upon that same day.

Something felt quite different, though the young teacher didn't know what – until she saw him, her Favorite Student who was sadly not the teacher's pet (though with this realization their interactions became even more interesting and thrilling, for he did not worship her at all.)

His dark hair was neatly gelled, dark eyes slightly bruised with fatigue, pale skin still radiant without flush. He wore a suit, for he was somehow forced to be involved with representing the school's fencing team, had to go to the meet that day, returned to her class twenty minutes before the bell.

With his arrival, her heart turned with joy, though what troubled her occasionally was that with this feeling, the guilt never came. This feeling was familiar, had been for the past four months, like something comforting and old Sakura could cling to.

It was the last class of the day – the drama club would put on their show for the next hour and a half, for seventh and eighth period.

She could barely teach, feeling his eyes trained on her the entire class. Miss Haruno barely caught her own mistake when she spelled PRETENTIOUS incorrectly, when they were putting their adjective of the day up on the board.

The bell rang. She stacked their home work assignments neatly and fixed the desk in the first row.

"Miss Haruno."

The teacher's heart turned again. She slowly met Sasuke's eyes.

"Yes, Sasuke? Is there something you and I need to discuss?" When was the last time they spoke? It felt like too long, but it had only been a few days.

Outside, the hallway buzzed with excitement from being let free, as everyone was instructed to go to the auditorium for Oliver! immediately.

"Graduation is coming. I . . . thought I would ask you if you had any ideas for the end of the year Senior assignment." His voice was low, rumbled sensually – did Sakura imagine this? - in his chest, and he took a few steps closer.

"Of course. What do you need to know?" She barely recognized her own voice.

Five steps closer.

"I want to know. Why do you look at me so … ?"

So he knew. Clever boy.

Sakura gently took off her reading glasses and folded them onto her shirt, leaned against the whiteboard.

"So . . ."

Sasuke was growing frustrated. She knew that the typical 'high school' things – dates, friends, sports – probably . . . annoyed him. Or at least seemed annoying.

Sasuke was always annoyed about something.

"Like you want something from me."

These words sparked a tiny, tiny flame in her chest. And then the guilt crashed down, like a huge wave, reminding her of the summers of her childhood when she was at the seaside and got sucked when she went out too far in the water. Guilt, guilt for dreaming – wanting another man, who was barely 18 no less! Even when she was already devoted, claimed, had a job.

She was Miss Haruno to him. Nothing more, nothing less.

The flame died, but just barely, a tiny kindling remained.

"I just want . . . a petite, petite kiss."

There was a tiny glint of shock in her student's eyes, but Miss Haruno only smiled softly when he leaned forward and slowly pressed his lips to her cheek, close to her mouth, too close.

"Now leave me alone . . . Miss Haruno." A voice, almost strangled, restrained, strangely quiet. Was it his voice at all?

Was that hurt inside? No. Nothing was there. Boyfriend, career, teacher, student, job.

Stroking his cheek with her hand, long manicured daggers. "Of course, Uchiha."

Loving the name as she spoke it on her lips. The last thought before he slowly, than quickly, walked away for forever.

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Graduation day, a happy day, a day of regrets and the past and hastily approaching future.

Sakura watched him, watched him go. Remembered her feelings. Held them close, and smiled inside wickedly, knowing Sasuke would remain her favorite fantasy, a boy with sunflower-gray eyes.

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