Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto, or any of the characters, places, swords, techniques, or cuddly little animals contained therein.
They stood for a moment; Sakura was leaned forward, head almost resting against his chest, fists raised, and wrists engulfed by his hands. He looked down at her as if stunned by the strength of her reaction, but this moment, like all things in life, soon passed.
Sakura took a step back trying to recover her composure. "Perfect" she sighed inwardly "just perfect." She would have thought that she had reached her stupidity limit for the day, but clearly she was mistaken. Not only had she been taken unaware by an unknown and possibly hostile grave robber, but she had to top it off by sobbing into his chest like a little girl.
He watched the storm of emotions rage across her face with a bemused expression. The corners of his mouth tilted up. He had loosened his grip on her wrists enough to allow her to move back a pace, but he didn't release her completely.
Sakura shook herself "focus on the issue at hand" she lectured herself. "One thing at a time, and we'll make it through this in one piece." Sakura tried to use the words to bolster her shaken ego. "Time to take back control" she thought, as she tried to step back to gain a little distance, and hopefully some much needed perspective, but her movement was halted by the subtle tension of his hands on her wrists. She frowned up at him, and he smiled at the gesture. The smile revealed teeth that would do a shark proud, and they gleamed like razors in the sunlight. "Ok" she thought "let's scrap that plan for now."
It wasn't as if she couldn't break free at any time, but she felt it would be better not to escalate the situation. The squaloid boy was playing nice for now, so she figured she had no reason to make him mad.
"So," she remarked "you never answered my question."
"I didn't steal anything. I only took what was mine." the smile took on an almost feral glee.
Sakura shifted, a little nervous. She knew he wasn't an ordinary person from the get go, but the power oozing off of the boy, the gleam of those fangs (there really was no other word for them), and the heat of that smile, all combined to set her teeth on edge.
"What do you mean by that?" She questioned voice steady despite the electric buzz of her nerves.
"Exactly what I said princess, the sword was rightfully mine, so I took it."
Sakura gritted her teeth, and clenched her fists; as if sensing her agitation, the boy's impossibly big smile only grew wider and wilder. Sakura was busy counting to 10 in an attempt to control her rapidly fraying temper. It wasn't helping, and long about the time she was ready to really give him a piece of her mind, he dealt the final blow; he laughed a deep, rich, masculine sound, and Sakura's temper broke free. Just when she was ready to pound the boy and his infuriating smile into the soft, green grass he spoke.
"Down girl," he said "I'm just playing with you." Sakura's expression communicated the fact that she was in no mood to joke around, and he seemed to understand that fact, as he continued. "You met Zabazua, so you must have known he was one of the legendary Seven Swordsmen of the Mist." Sakura nodded. "Well, I was raised in Mist, and was training to be one of them. I had the distinct misfortune of being kidnapped by Orochimaru, and spent years as one of his little pet projects. When I was released, upon his untimely death, I set about to find and reclaim Zabuza's sword. It's tradition that the swords are passed down, and since little Haku got himself killed, who better to take it than me."
Sakura calmed down at the boys words, she understood the importance a sword like that could hold, and after spending years as Orochimaru's plaything, she could sympathize with his need for a big sharp object. She couldn't even begin to imagine the horror that the boy had been subjected to. Her mind couldn't comprehend what that sick, snake freak was capable of. She was still shivering at the thought when ideas begin mingling in her head. The word Orochimaru wandered around in her memories until it encountered another word, another memory, Sasuke. Sasuke had left her, had left their entire village behind in his quest to find Orochimaru.
"You know? But maybe you don't. Maybe there was more than one, maybe you've never, but maybe you do. Maybe I don't." Sakura babbled incoherently.
The boy's hands moved from her wrists to grasp the sputtering girl's shoulders, and he gave her a firm shake.
"What are you talking about?" He plied the girl, and then the boy's expression changed. It was like a light came on. He chuckled, and moved his hands from her shoulders to her chin. He turned her face from side to side and studied her face as if it were something he should have known. Like something he'd read about, but never seen for himself.
"I can't believe it. I mean, he's hardly talkative, but how many pink haired ninjas are there? Little Sakura Haruno, the former teammate of one Sasuke Uchiha."
Style note: Thanks to suggestions from my beta, all thoughts (the internal monologue of our poor protagonist) will be noted with italics, as well as in text.
AN: Ok, so it's a little bit longer. Sorry about the wait, but I'd rather post something I'm proud of, than junk. Once again I'd like to thank my faithful readers and reviewers, and as always my beta Broken Mantra who is my hero for wading through all my nonsense, and always encouraging me. It's amazing how much people you've never met can do for you.