Wow, the next chapter is here. I never realized how difficult it is to write in such a strange manner like I do for PACOAAM. It's very different compared to how I normally write, and thus needs well over three drafts before I am remotely satisfied with the chapter.

Warnings: AU, Potential OOC-ness, Subtle references, Blunt references, spoilers, SasukexSakura, TsunadexDan, and Crack. Summary: Because, in the end, Sakura knew she should have run the moment her mother informed her of her engagement to the king of Tomato Country. AU, SakuxSasuxSaku ('cause I'm not sure whose dominate), Crack.

The Pros and Cons of An Arranged Marriage

Chapter 2: Pro 1:

"I'm going to rip his sanity away from him- and enjoy it."

Had she been drunk last night?

Honestly, had she? Her head was pounding like it had the morning after her 16th birthday bash – which had been organized by her mother, which explained the alcohol. Sakura would never forget that morning; head buried under a pillow, curtains closed and threats to murder whoever entered more loudly than necessary. It had given her a whole new respect for her mother's (frequent) hangovers. Not that this newfound respect would stop Sakura from walking about her mother's room after such parties; heels she reserved particularly for such occasions clicking loudly against the marble floor. This lack of sympathy, of course, she'd picked up from the maids.

Sakura's fond reminiscing was cut off as her memories about the arranged marriage caught up to her. Right. She wasn't at home anymore. Much as she wished that was the case and the previous few weeks were just a nightmare, Sakura had been raised to be more pragmatic than that. Sakura sighed and glanced around; realizing for the first time that the room was inexplicably dark. She blinked twice to confirm that her eyes were indeed open. Then sighed again.

It wasn't enough that she had entered the creepy/pretty hallway with a lamp that appeared from nowhere. Or that she had afterward stupidly followed her kick-ass-moron of a knight deeper into said creepy/pretty hallway to an even darker doorway, only to find out that the rumours (from a different rumour mill than Tsunade's that Sakura also didn't know about) were true. The rulers of Tomato Country were demons, and had now stuck her in what was no-doubt some deep, dark interrogation chamber (which, in retrospect, shouldn't have been that surprising. They were going to be her in-laws after all). She could have gotten over all of that, save for one small detail.

She had fainted.

Sakura doubted her mother would be very pleased when she heard the news. In fact, Sakura wouldn't put it past her mother to leave the court dramatically and come marching over to deliver her thoughts on the matter. And once Tsunade finished tanning her daughter's hide (under the guise of training) for disrespecting the family name, she would go after Anko for what had happened afterwards. Whatever had happened. Then again, this might work in her favor. If her first impression was bad enough, Tomato Country might drop the marriage.

She shifted, and a moment of stunned silence fell as she realized something pertaining to the plot. The princess blinked for the umpteenth time, trying to confirm that, yes, her future in-laws had bound and gagged (as her screams of outrage were muffled) her. Now, she could've understood guards. She was even sympathetic to the notion of a cell (pending the aforementioned interrogation). But this… they had to have noticed that she was of royal stock. And people simply did not tie up nobles. They left them free to stalk dramatically across their cell in an appropriately disgusted fashion. It was a universally accepted unwritten rule of war (and peace) conduct. She would really have to make the King of Tomato Country aware of this misstep. Wiggling to the best of her abilities, which was rather difficult, Sakura carefully pressed her arm against her corset. Then stopped, and all but growled.

There should have been some pressure from one of the knives her father had given her. Another twist; two knives missing in her sleeves. The one against her back was gone as well. Several twists later had Sakura very upset to learn all of her babies were missing. The finest blacksmiths in all of Katsuya had carefully crafted the set of daggers at her father's request, to be companions to her weapon of choice. Said weapon was far too bulky to carry into court (she had tried once, but the looks of sheer terror from the visitors and her father's quiet request she put it back in her room forced her to return it to its place by her armoire. Her mother had been proud, though).

Even though they weren't her weapons of choice, she loved those knives. They'd become her babies; her precious, lovable pieces of metal enabling her to defend herself in any situation. And if there were one unexplainable scratch on her babies she was going to string the Tomato Royals by their thumbs and lower them down into a pool of starved sharks…

But first, she had to escape from wherever it was they had stuffed her. And the first step to that was shifting into a position that would allow her to stand with tied feet. As one might imagine it was not the easiest thing in the world to do, and in her struggle Sakura managed to knock over something. Which landed on something else, knocking it over. This continued for a while. Several objects hit Sakura, and more kicked up dust clouds that set her to coughing. Horsehairs brushed against her arms. A moment of stunned silence ensued as the realization of exactly where she was dawned.

She, the Heiress to Katsuya, raised in some of the finest courts of the land, was stuck in a broom closet.

Sakura took a deep breath, and nearly had a coughing fit, and tried to calm herself. Surely there was a reason for this. The situation was simply ridiculous – surely no one would pull a stunt like this without a very good reason. But the more she thought about it, more she drew a blank on just what that reason could be. The people in this country were obviously completely insane. And, slowly, Sakura began to get angry. Not the impulsive anger she'd had before, when she'd realized her knives were missing. That was, really, only annoyance and it would have passed as soon as she'd gotten them back. No, this went deeper. She had come to foster peace between their countries – not because she wanted to, but because it was best for everyone involved. And they had spit in the face of that, and tossed her aside. Humiliated her. Sakura felt a cold fire take root in her chest, and her hands clenched so tightly they drew little drops of blood.

For Haruno Sakura was a woman scorned.

And she would have her vengeance.

Oh yes, vengeance indeed. Sakura wondered whether her mother would rethink her peace strategy when she heard about this. Failing that, well… She was to be married to this king. Perhaps she could tear them down from the inside. He was would learn what a vendetta was up front and personal. Granted, she had to escape first. She could arrange the details of her plan afterward. If she hadn't been so thoroughly gagged Sakura would have smirked.

Alright, in order of priority, she had to get out of this closet, free her bonds, retrieve her daggers and then plan her revenge. Or just skip to that last point. Whatever made her feel better. Actually, and here Sakura paused… where was Anko anyway? Why hadn't she protested throwing Sakura into a closet? Perhaps they had thrown her into a closet too.

Her musings were cut off suddenly when she heard footsteps nearby. Outside the door, presumably. There was a click, then Sakura had to squint at the light that flooded the room.

Conversation between the three servants at the door trailed off as they stared at her staring back. A stunned moment passed, and Sakura regained her bearings first. She resumed her attempts to escape in full force, complete with shifting back and forth, muffled shouting and failed attempts to stand. Emerald eyes flashed viridian in anger, in a manner that promised someone pain.

The grins of the servants fell and the one who opened the door leaned sideways, comically, toward the others. All of them kept their eyes trained on Sakura. In a failed attempt at whispering low enough for Sakura not to hear, the door servant spoke, "What is that doing here?"

"That" twitched and halted in her attempts for freedom, watching the exchange. The other servant and the other-other the servant both shrugged, apparently as baffled by the bound princess as Sakura herself was.

"Think if we close the door and open it again, it'll be gone?" The door servant shrugged at the other-other servant's question and Sakura didn't get a chance to shake her head frantically before the door servant slammed the door shut. The force of which, by the way, was enough to knock loose a bucket that had previously been hanging over Sakura's head.

She never saw it coming.

PACOAAM:Chapter 2: Pro 1:

There was just something about annoying the Hell out of the royal family living in this castle that was very… enjoyable. Just watching them run around like they had no heads because the power was out was amusing.

Minato rolled his shoulders. Who would have thought that being a spiritual mass (currently in the only place which could condense his soul) could still leave him with a sore neck? Especially considering the fact that there was nothing that could be sore. This should have been a perk of being dead. Instead, it turned out all his years of hunching over paper had given him eternal stiffness. Yet another reason to contemplate the easy way of getting his formal council to "disappear."

The thought occupied his mind for a grand total of five seconds, before he moved on to the next prank in store. Yes, there would have to be a cool down period from this one. But then something would have to happen to spice the place up again. After all Tomato Country just wasn't the same without the boy king being driven mad.

Actually, all of these practical jokes brought back childhood memories of when he'd been the bane of Konoha's immaculate lifestyle. The moment he'd stepped on the throne he'd made it clear to everyone that he was not going to be your typical ruler. Konoha had become stagnant as far as he was concerned, and that needed to change. And so Minato had never been content to do anything the old way when he could figure out a new way to do it. This creative streak of his, lasting all the way to until his death, had often tarnished the 'proud traditions of the kingdom.' Of course, Konoha then proceeded to lead the way in just about everything (except technology) and most countries envied Konoha for its military prowess. He'd been a good king, he thought. The Council didn't dare do anything against such a popular leader – ah, the wonders of a partially democratic system. He'd instituted that, too, since on the whole he liked the populace's input better than his council's.

Unfourtunately, now he had no way to express his creativity productively. Furthermore his pranking skills had only increased with his death. Something about being incorporeal lent itself very well to efficient troublemaking. And what was a good prank without someone who would over-react?

How lucky had he been to find an entire country full of people who would over-react and who'd been a major annoyance when he was king? Extremely lucky - and he was never one to overlook an opportunity when it came knocking. Even if the castle of Tomato Country disagreed with his outlook.

Having passed through his (not-so) secret passageway, he breezed through the floor to his room. To all intents and purposes, he was currently invisible. This was a trick those Uchiha hadn't yet figured out he had, much to his amusement. Minato would have thought the way he always knew exactly how to counter whatever new plan they came up with would give away this talent, but this was apparently not the case. Turning slightly, he tossed his pliers on a rack. They landed perfectly into place- it had taken longer than he cared to admit to nail that trick down.

Side-stepping the low-table and minding the various plants in their baskets, Minato pulled at the curtain covering a part of the wall in his room. Sapphire silk (stolen from Sasuke's personal collection given to him by his brother- who Minato owed a favour to for telling him the combination to said personal collection) pulled away dramatically to show a bulletin board covered with a complete map- including secret passages, not-so secret passages, and the local weather patterns of a particularly annoying fugitive thundercloud- of Tomato Castle and surrounding city.

He had similar maps for every other country on the continent, but they hadn't given him nearly as much grief as Tomato Country. Oh yes, that Madara-character had crashed his birthday party and coronation celebration (though Minato would be the first to admit those Bloody Mary's were excellent) and left the party with embarrassing photos both times. Then the bloody Uchiha refused to give them back. Instead, Minato discovered a few days later that his girlfriend had found an innocent looking parcel on her doorstep. And the first of the pictures she found when she opened that package was the one with him and a belly dancer.

Yeah.

That had been awkward to explain.

Wincing at that memory, a faint feminine cry of outrage before an act of violence echoing in his mind, he turned to grab a pen from a nearby table. Only to freeze when a flash of green winked in the corner of his eye. That wasn't right. The colour scheme of this room was purely blue. Slightly different tones and shades of blue, but blue all the same. Everything was either wood or blue. Blue or wood. There was no green.

He turned around slowly to kind that the green belonged to a pair of emerald eyes, burning holes into him like he had done something exceedingly stupid. Placed on the couch between two bookshelves, bound and gagged and very much ready to kill something, was a woman. A woman with pink-hair, wearing a green gown of the finest material that all but screamed 'Outsider! Outsider right here!' That, and the fact no one in Tomato Country had pink hair. Actually, Minato hadseen the most recent population survey and emerald eyes hadn't made it either.

So. There was an Outsider with a hair and eye colour not seen in Tomato Country with what was likely a very expensive dress in his tower. He'd definitely missed a memo. Probably the one last week when he had been too busy conspiring with the Thundercloud to bother with whatever redundant strategy the Uchiha came up with. Naturally, that was when they came up with a curve ball.

About time.

Of course, there was still a strange outsider sitting on his couch. And the only interesting thing he'd heard involving outsiders recently was an arranged marriage. One between Sasuke and a princess from Katsuya, not that Minato thought Sasuke would be able to handle a member of that headstrong country. His brother had probably been wise to leave the country. Otherwise he would be the one entering this comedy.

Actually, when was that princess suppose to arrive?

But even Sasuke wasn't stupid enough to tick off a female from Katsuya, let alone one from the royal family. If they hadn't changed since when he was alive, their females dominated whatever court they ruled over and had a reputation for exacting vengeance. There were rumours of dragon blood being involved. Why, his girlfriend had hailed from Katsuya now that he thought about it…

Hang on. Princess of Katsuya. Suppose to arrive any day now. Chances that someone remembered to tell Sasuke of his engagement were slim. The most likely plan of action when an outsider showed up claiming to be his fiancé: hide her.

Figures.

The Uchiha had such ridiculous notions regarding the fairer sex it was a wonder they hadn't died out yet. To say nothing of their opinions about outsiders. Minato sighed and materialized into his favourite form: one that allowed him to perform physical actions while still retaining his awesome ghost skills. Like floating, as he was doing now. He didn't want to brag, but he looked really cool when he floated. He stood in front of the girl, who stared at him with none of the fear the inhabitants of the castle held for him. This confirmed, in his mind, his current theory on who the girl was. "Promise me you won't shout, or I won't remove the gag."

Pink hair flew in all directions from the force of her nodding, not that Minato blamed her for such a reaction. "Don't bite my head off." Leaning away, as if expecting her to breathe fire (which wasn't too far-fetched for some royalty), he gently pulled the gag off.

The girl breathed deeply and growled, "Untie me so I can go and kill that boy."

Minato blinked at the sheer amount of rage emanating from the petite girl, wondering where on earth it fit in her tiny body. "What?" It shouldn't have been possible. Maybe she hid it in her arms. What was it he'd heard about Katsuya royalty's arms? Emerald pools glared up at him, though their anger was directed at someone else (he hoped). "Ehh..."

An hour later had the ghost and his now-untied guest sitting together at the low table. The princess had come close to screaming more than once and ripping apart the blue pillow clutched tightly in her hands. Minato had listened patiently (his girlfriend had taught him well) to the rant of how a princess of her caliber should not be treated like a broom and if that king knew what was good for him he'd call off the wedding and send her home so she could retrieve her army. Deciding to serve tea to the princess before she could go into more detail had been a wise idea. So had the cookies, since Minato had long since learned cookies made everything better.

"So… you fainted?" The girl bowed her head in shame, right hand idly grabbing a cookie. "And woke up in a broom closet." A nod. "With your handmade daggers, crafted just for you, stolen. And you want revenge?"

"Yes." The princess reached for another cookie. "These are delicious, by the way."

Minato smiled sheepishly, "Thank you, they're a family recipe. And, unfortunately for your plans, regular mutiny doesn't work here. The king and his clan are crazy." He paused here. "No, that's not right. They're… they're differently normal."

Emerald eyes blinked in confusion. "Differently normal?" She gingerly wiped away some crumbs with a napkin, another skill that had been bred into royalty. (She was fairly certain it came her father's second cousin once removed, but her mother's great-aunt on her father's side did have a similar condition so it was truly a toss-up as to where exactly the skill had come from There were a few unconventional thinkers who suggested that such skills were learned, but this idea hadn't quite caught on in the educated circles.)

Minato nodded and grabbed a cookie for himself, "Yes. It's hard to describe. I suppose you could say that things considered quite bizarre in the rest of the world are commonplace here. For example, there are no rumour mills in Tomato Country. They have a Grapevine. Which is an actual grapevine that spans the entire country and can, apparently, speak. They also have an arrest warrant out for a thundercloud, and just last month we had about a thousand china dolls come to life. They, uh, were trying to take over."

The girl reacted about the same way most outsiders did when he told them this. He himself had had similar thoughts when he first arrived (then he'd adjusted and, well lets just say the castle hadn't been the same since). "That's… what kind of marriage have I gotten myself into?"

"One of a kind." This hadn't reassured her like Minato had hoped it would. "However," She perked up, "because of their strangeness it means you can get away with things you couldn't in other countries. It also leaves them open to a number of pranks and other forms of retaliation, and I would be honoured to assist you in your revenge." In fact, this was just what he needed- who better to drive Sasuke mad than his fiancé?

"You will?" Gloomy eyes brightened as if the girl had been presented with a brand new weapon.

"Of course!" Minato nodded sagely, "Throwing a Lady into a closet is rude and uncalled for. Let alone taking away someone's daggers-" Quickly making himself solid enough that the girl didn't fly through into the floor, Minato found his arms full of a happy teenager. Who promptly glanced up in shock.

"I never introduced myself." She pulled away nearly as quickly as she'd leapt towards him, and straightened. A bit dazed at the sheer speed of the change, he managed to regain his bearings in time to see the princess bow deeply, "I am Haruno Sakura, Princess of Katsuya. Please, call me Sakura."

He returned the bow, though slightly higher than hers. "I am Namikaze Minato, former Yondaime of Konoha. And I would be honoured if you would call me Minato."

"Minato-san." She grinned brightly, "Shall we drive them mad?"

Laughing, he replied, "They're already mad, remember? We're just going to… add to the confusion. What we can start with is their pride. Uchiha are very sensitive about this so we have to stomp on it, smother it really, until they're catatonic. And they will sometimes go catatonic. It is the only way to truly get back at an Uchiha."

"That sounds very… harsh." Sakura took a bite of her cookie and washed it down with tea. "I like it."

The ghost nodded, an evil grin spreading on his face, "Alright, then. Uchiha take a great deal of pride in what they wear, Sakura-san. So we can start with their wardrobe…"

PACOAAM:Chapter 2: Pro 1:

For the last week or so the castle had been quiet. Obito and Anko had begun a country-wide tour of the bars and taverns in hopes that they would find the one drink that could actually knock someone out in one swing. A Holy Grail, they had called it. Sasuke figured he didn't want to know. Shisui was locked away in his office- it being the tax season and not even the Tomato Castle was exempt from taxes. No one mentioned the odd coincidence that Shisui had recently been heard taking a tone with the King, and had never had to do taxes before.

But, most importantly, the Ghost was distracted. At the same time the arranged marriage was out of his hair, the princess distracting Yondaime and not taking space on the throne room's floor. So, for the first time since the Ghost arrived, there was peace and quiet and a general lack of pranks.

That alone, considering how long Sasuke had lived there, should have sent off warning bells. Not small warning bells either, but big, honking, deafening bells that could ring from one side of a country and be heard on the other. However, deaf with the happiness that came with the knowledge the plan was a success, Sasuke had decided that the quiet had been earned over the years. After all, they had put up with some pretty strange things over the years. It was only a matter of time before Fate cut them some slack. (Fate, by the way, was currently hiding her laughter quite well. She still managed to draw the attention of Karma, who approved of the Princess's plan of action and promptly joined Fate in her giggles. The Uchiha's paranoia of these goddesses wasn't quite as undeserved as most people thought).

Turning into his room (dark blue with accents of crimson that somehow managed to work together in creating a "spoooooooky" atmosphere), the king paused as screams of outright horror echoed through the hallowed halls. Sticking his head out the door, meeting the gazes of the other heads out various doors, a shrug was shared. Apparently the distraction for the ghost had worn off. It had been too good to be true.

More screams erupted. Sasuke knew that if it was a serious matter Shisui would tell him in the morning. As Sasuke closed the doors he could have swore he heard his advisor's (feminine) scream. Writing it off as 'the taxes finally got to him' he closed the oak doors with a thump.

The howls of his subjects were muffled by the thick walls and doors (not for the first time did Sasuke regret not upgrading from mostly-soundproof to actually-soundproof) but Sasuke could only wonder what the fuss was about. Had the Ghost find another demon rabbit and brought it home? Shrugging it off, he reached for his closet, intent on changing into some evening clothes. He pulled the closet doors open. And stared.

There was nothing there.

Not one of his perfectly tailored clothing sets. Evening. Morning. Night. Day. Training. Sparring. Everything. Gone. Nothing had been spared.

Not even his tomato print boxers.