The Ten Rules of Inter-Village Diplomacy
by Sakura Haruno
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Rule #1
Appear polite, sedate, and unruffled at all times.
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"GOD DAMN YOU, ****, LET ME GO!" Sakura Haruno screeched, beating her rope-bound fists on the back of the guard that had slung her over his shoulder. "This is not dignified! I'm an ambassador, you know! I have diplomatic protection! You wouldn't know an ambassador if one poked you in the eye! No wonder your freaking backwater town is nearly dead!"
She kept shouting and cursing foully at the deaf guard, as they went down a flight of stairs. Seventeen years of rage was being unleashed.
"AND ANOTHER THING. What's with the dark, dripping stone walls? Medieval is out. Is that a DUNGEON?"
The heavy, wooden door was pulled open by the guard's meaty hand. The heavy-set guy carrying her – okay, truthfully, she thought he may be an ogre – grunted and heaved her off his shoulder, pushing her into the dark room.
"Wait a minute –" she started, and the door slammed shut again, in her face. There was clinking on the other side as the bolt slammed home.
"Shit…" she mumbled, giving the door a weak punch.
Rule #2
Never let the opposition know you are surprised.
---
"It doesn't get any better," a voice said bluntly from behind her. Sakura turned, her skin prickling with goosebumps. The cell was made of stone, illuminated by a cold measure of light from a tiny, barred, skylight. In the shadowy corner, the owner of the voice shifted, stepping forward. A pair of round specs reflected what little light there was.
"HOLY SHIT!" Sakura shrieked, stepping back and hitting the door with her pink head. "Arg… YOU!"
Her silver-haired cellmate wasn't any less startled. "What are you doing here…?"
Rule #3
Avoid conflict at all costs. Never become violent.
---
"TRAITOR!"
"Don't hit me!"
"Oh my – GET BACK HERE!" Sakura protested, trying (unproductively) to kick Kabuto. He dodged, again, and she swore. "WHY!!?"
"Funny, Haruno, I was going to ask the same question," the traitor gasped, as she swung both her tied fists in his direction. He ducked neatly and her knuckles hit the hard, stone wall.
"Owww…" she moaned, sitting down on the cell's only bench quite suddenly. "I don't want to be here."
Kabuto was sitting beside her, on the floor. "It's not that bad."
He looked nearly exactly the same as last time she'd seen him – maybe a bit more tired, and pale – well, they were in a dungeon, for freak's sake. A faint bruise marked his left cheekbone.
This failed to stir any pity. Sakura kicked him viciously in the stomach, and he doubled over, coughing. "Yeah, well you're not the one tied up," she grumbled, her rose-pink hair glowing faintly.
At which he produced a kunai from his pocket and tossed it to her.
Rule #4
Always return a favour.
---
Sakura used the kunai to saw her wrists, bloodied knuckles and all, free. When she finally succeeded at breaking the ropes, she took the kunai and weighed it in her hand, eyeing Kabuto. She had a weapon. Kill him now?
He noticed her murderous stare… all too late. She jumped up off her wooden seat and started trying to stab him, but missing, mostly because of the adrenaline making her hands shake. An after-shock of being captured at all.
"Calm down, for Christ's sake!" he appealed, catching her by the wrists. She gritted her teeth and tried to punch him, smashing the hilt of the kunai into his glasses. They snapped, and fell off skewily.
"Aa –" Kabuto released her for a split second, trying to recover his lenses. Sakura wrenched her hands out of his grasp, the blade she held ripping a long, diagonal line across his chest. Kabuto's hands found hers in the dark, and stole the kunai back.
She hissed fiercely, and kneed him.
Rule #5
If you find yourself in the wrong, apologize.
---
"You wrecked my shirt, and I can't see."
"I don't care," Sakura sulked, arms folded as she sat on her throne. The sole wooden bench, strapped to the wall with two chains. Luxury.
"I'm bleeding, too," Kabuto added, touching the long scratch on his chest.
He had practically shed his shirt since she cut it open, and she was trying very hard not to admire his abs while he wasn't watching her. A couple of dark bruises stained his chest, and they sparked her curiosity. Did he run into a counter, or something?
"Heal it yourself," she snapped after a pause, hugging one of her knees and averting her guilty eyes.
"I can't… they gave me some sort of drug." Somewhere along the way, he'd lost his hair-tie as well, and his ponytail had softened into long, sleek locks. Feeble beams of light from above played on the silver strands.
"I know you're on drugs, Yakushi," she sniped, crossing her legs. He glanced up at her, as if remembering something.
"Did you drink or eat anything before they caught you?"
"A glass of water I was offered," she shrugged. "What's it to you?
"They've invented this… stuff. It dissolves instantly in anything, tastes like nothing, and suppresses your chakra."
Sakura's breath caught in her throat. "For how long…?"
Kabuto showed her his palms. "I don't know. But whatever they give you is bound to be spiked."
Sakura started to perform handseals. "Mesu!" she commanded.
Nothing happened.
Rule #6
If you find yourself at a disadvantage, don't panic.
---
"I'm going to DIE!" Sakura yelped, beating on the door. "HELP! I've been turned into a CIVILIAN!"
"You've still got all that training to fall back on," Kabuto pointed out from the floor, sitting with his back against the wall. He was dabbing at the edges of his cut with the shreds of his shirt. "Ow."
"HOW WILL I SURVIVE?" Sakura pleaded, collapsing on the floor opposite the traitor.
"You won't."
"WHAT WILL I DO?"
"Whatever you're told to."
"WHEN WILL IT END?"
"When they kill us both, probably just to shut you up."
Sakura bestowed on her cellmate the most venomous glare she had ever given. "Filthy traitor."
"What did you expect?" Kabuto muttered absently, trying to tie a knot. His fingers slipped, and he cursed. "Oh, god, this is useless. I can't see a thing."
Rule #7
Offer your help to those in need.
---
"…I can, um, see," Sakura began uncomfortably, picking at her nails.
"Yes, thanks for rubbing that in, I'd like to remind you who actually broke my glasses," Kabuto retorted, almost losing one end of the 'bandage' he'd fashioned from the hem of his shirt.
"No, I mean… do you want some help?" she offered awkwardly, holding out her hand.
After a moment, he nodded. "Yeah… sure."
So Sakura leant forward and took both ends from his hands, feeling ridiculous. Their fingers brushed and she hesitated, but she'd done this in med class. She knotted the fabric gently and looped it over his shoulder, securing the bandage.
The kunai he'd lent her earlier had half-fallen out of his pocket, and Sakura snicked it quickly. "…How's that?" she asked, slipping the knife into a pocket.
"Great," he answered stoically, shifting his weight. "Except… you're kinda leaning on me."
Sakura blushed, hastily taking her hand off his chest. "Sorry."
He opened his mouth to answer, but then a key clicked in the door. Sakura stood up hurriedly, brushing off her skirt.
Rule #8
If the situation is dangerous, say nothing.
---
This time, several guards filed in as Kabuto got to his feet, standing beside her. Sakura watched them nervously, before one of them stepped forward and grabbed her arms, pinning them behind her back.
"HEY! That is so out of line!" she protested, kicking the guy in the shins brutally. "You didn't even ASK if I was going to come quietly! Don't you have any sort of respect for women!?"
She stopped struggling for just a second, to turn and check on Kabuto. He was getting slightly rougher treatment – despite the fact that she was the one doing all the shouting. Maybe that was their idea of 'respect for women'. She winced, as the lead guard struck her companion hard across the jaw… now she knew what the bruises were.
They were both dragged forcibly out of the room, Sakura still trying to murder her captor's feet. "I wish I was wearing heels! Then you'd be feeling something!" she told him confidently, stomping on his toes.
The guy yelled in pain, stopping. Another guy seized her arm and helped him, almost lifting her toes from the floor. "Hey, I can walk!" she objected, her feet flailing. When they ignored her, she looked a couple of paces ahead. "Kabuto, where are they taking us!?"
He didn't turn around – probably avoiding her eyes. "Torture chamber?" he guessed. "Execution?"
"Charming."
"I know less than you do," Kabuto admitted, glancing back at her. One of the guards shouted something in a foreign language, and cuffed him again.
Sakura guessed they wanted him to shut up.
They were led through huge pair of cast-iron gates, and she saw a tall guy waiting up ahead, wearing an executioner's hood and leaning on a wicked-looking scythe.
Oh, shit.
Rule #9
If all else fails, resort to fighting your way out.
---
"They're going to kill us!" Sakura screamed, struggling again. She kicked one of the guys in the groin, making him groan and double over. The second one stopped, foolishly, and she decked him with a kunoichi's right hook. The rest of the company stopped, turning to look at what had just happened. And then they charged her, a war cry.
Sakura gulped and cast around desperately for a weapon. The two guys she'd just whipped had dropped some kunai, which she snatched up now.
She braced her arm against the first blow, knocking the guy aside. At the other side of the courtyard, there was an open door to the village. If she could get to the marketplace, she could lose anybody. She slashed at the next one, dodging a thrown shuriken. Then one of the guards tried to kick her legs out from underneath her and she stumbled, dropping her stolen kunai. Her knee scraped on the gravel, as three of the guards bore down on her –
"You've still got all that training to fall back on."
Right. Tactic seven. In lack of a weapon, improvise.
Sakura grabbed the first guy by the arm, throwing him off balance. He crashed into his friends, collapsing.
"Don't move," the lead guard said coldly from behind her. All of his men were on the ground, and he still thought he was in control? Sakura turned to face him, a victorious smile on her lips –
And he was holding a long, sharp blade to Kabuto's throat.
Rule #10
Your primary responsibility is your own safety. Do not, under any circumstances, compromise your safety.
---
Sakura froze, staring at the blade, at the thin line of blood it cut across Kabuto's neck. She had a clear run to the market; the executioner had run off to raise the alarm, and she could be there before them. They would never see her again.
She wasn't running yet. The lead guard smirked, and Kabuto shook his head, nearly imperceptibly. Something wrenched at her heart.
What was she waiting for?
"Drop your weapons, slowly, or I'll kill him here," the guardsman ordered, and she felt faint. The kunai slipped from her fingers, hitting the dust.
"No!" Kabuto shouted angrily, elbowing the guy violently. "Go, Sakura! I'll work this out for myself, just run!"
He had said her name. She set her teeth, surrendering with her hands in the air.
"Good. Now, come over here," the guard said carefully, scraping the blade on Kabuto's jaw when she hesitated. The steel-haired traitor flinched, and Sakura started to walk.
"You're crazy," she heard Kabuto's voice mutter at her. "Mad. Insane." Now she wished he would shut up.
"Okay, one more step," the obnoxious guard grinned, and Sakura's eyes narrowed. She reached into her back pocket. "Wait – wh-what are you doing?" he stammered, taking a step back.
"Tactic Eight," Sakura recited, pulling out the kunai she'd taken from Kabuto earlier. "Always keep a weapon on reserve."
Then she slammed the kunai into the space between the head guard's eyebrows, and his world turned black.
He crumpled to the ground, with the promise of a very bad headache when he awoke. The long blade fell beside him, clattering inches from his grasp. Sakura smiled, satisfied... before a loud bell started to clamour in the tower, ringing for help.
"Time to go," Kabuto muttered in her ear, grabbing her hand and pulling her towards the marketplace.
---
"You know, you kind of… ruin the whole… 'losing them' thing…" Sakura complained between panted breaths, as they weaved through the market crowds. "You know, no shirt, covered in blood, attracting stares…"
She wriggled her hand out of Kabuto's grasp, figuring he could fend for himself from here on. She might have just saved his life, but he hadn't said thanks, and she didn't really want to be around him either. She glanced over her shoulder for followers, and he took her hand again, knotting his fingers through hers.
"What are you doing?" she demanded as he trailed her through the crowd.
"I can't actually distinguish between people and stalls right now. Don't let go," he warned her.
Sakura sighed, pulling him into a side alley. "You're so dependent."
"It's one of my best traits," Kabuto quipped, and they both ducked into an open doorway. There was some sort of carpet display in this building, and multicoloured rugs hung from the ceiling. "You shouldn't be around me, you know," he added more seriously.
"I know," Sakura nodded. A couple of guards tramped past them, cutting a swathe through the market crowd. They both ducked behind one of the carpets.
He ran a hand through his hair. "I'm not a gentleman."
"I know."
"And the only thing that's keeping me here is my lack of reliable vision."
One of the guards stopped to look through the doorway. Sakura quickly took a step closer to Kabuto, to make sure she couldn't be seen. "I know."
"And I'm still a traitor," he whispered.
"I know," Sakura mumbled, looking at her feet. Why did he have to say it?
"Then… thank you."
Sakura forgot to breathe for a moment, pretty damn sure he was laughing at her. But when she looked again into his serious, onyx eyes, she realized he wasn't laughing.
"...You're welcome."