Sakura's Point of View

I never considered Sasuke to be a spoiled brat, regardless of the fact that he came from a wealthy family. He had manners, there was no denying that, and his strict upbringing was emphasized even more when he stood next to Naruto. But aside from that, he had always seemed completely normal in terms of material necessities. Hell, we used to complain more about sleeping on the ground, under the night sky, or in run-down hotels than he ever did! True, the disdain was, most of the times, obvious in his expression, but he never commented and never complained.

Given that, I believe I was entitled to have the opinion I had of him. Until now. Because, mother of hell, his house was huge!

Some would find it normal, seeing as he was who he was, but I didn't—I couldn't. Tsunade didn't live in a monster building, she lived in a modest apartment, and her village wasn't filled to the brim with problems. This—everything I was seeing—wasn't the result of his position or his high-salary. It was the result of his pretentious, pompous ass.

A sarcastic remark on the tip of my tongue, I followed him inside. I had to make a conscious effort not to allow my mouth to drop open, because not only was it the largest house I had ever seen—and been welcomed into—but also the most beautiful. I managed, though, for I knew that was the reaction he was secretly awaiting, and at that point, I would have rather died than given him that satisfaction. Besides, I had a vague feeling Naruto would do enough praising for both of us. But as it was, I couldn't blame him. The house was gorgeous.

It was humongous, entirely too large for one person only, but it was incredibly tastefully decorated. I had expected it to be cold and dark and downright gloomy, but it was so far from that it was laughable. The colors were warm, not obnoxiously bright or strong, but they did emanate a feeling of comfort that, I had to admit, I hadn't quite seen coming. It wasn't a home, that was clear to me. As beautiful as the decorations were, as well as they fitted in the scenery and complemented each other, there was no soul in them. In a way, there were completely Sasuke-like—aristocratic, with good taste, beautiful even… but devoid on the inside of any emotion.

We passed through the living room first, with its high windows that overlooked a gorgeous garden, complete with a swimming pool.

The house was set on a tall hill overlooking the entire village. I was dying to see it better, to study the pool, the surroundings, but my pride was much more important.

The windows, which I suspected served the purpose of sliding doors, as well, were covered by white, flowy curtains with golden accents that I would have never in a million years seen coming from the Uchiha. The walls were a deep chocolate that extended throughout the hallways and the attached kitchen, which was connected to the large space through a long bar. The floors were all black hardwood.

There were two couches, beige in color, with red and brown accent pillows. One sat with the back to the hallway we were passing, the other on its side. An armchair was across from it, and what separated the three of them was a low, glass coffee table. On the opposite wall, where the windows ended, was a television set—expensive, modern equipment I doubted Sasuke ever used.

As we advanced, the row of windows followed us, showing me a sitting area in the garden—which I found entirely too appealing for someone in my situation. As in, someone about to make herself comfortable in her enemy's home.

The furniture in the kitchen was made out of cherry wood, with steel equipment. Further on, there was a dining area with a glass table and chairs made out of the same wood. The windows continued on the other wall, as well, casting light onto the area—where, naturally, Naruto could be found, slurping eagerly from a ramen bowl.

Kakashi was nowhere to be seen, but that was also quite predictable.

"Oi, Sasuke-teme, you had no ramen in the house!" he accused, with his mouth full, glaring in our direction with noodles sticking past his lips.

I rolled my eyes.

Sasuke, too, ignored him, but after a mild grumble, the blond returned to his food, apparently deeming it more important.

"Come with me," he addressed me.

I heaved a sigh as I turned on my heels to follow him back to the living room. There was a slight moment of hesitation from my part before climbing upstairs, but he seemed to sense that, because he turned, grabbed my upper arm in a vise-like grip and forcefully pulled me in front of him—even as I whined quite loudly in protest. He released me before I could give him a personal demonstration of chakra-infused strength.

The mansion was, as surprising as it may sound, only two stories high, so as soon as I hit the landing, he took the lead once again. The hallway led in two directions, left and right, terminating on both ends with a large window. There was one door on the left side, on the wall opposite from the staircase, yet he turned right. He led me down the hallway until he reached the furthest door on the same wall; he opened it, allowed me to step inside, and backed away. There were two more doors on the other wall, but I could care less about that. I stopped dead in my tracks. Quietly, he retreated without another word, but I didn't need him to tell me what I already knew. This would be my room, and it was beautiful.

It had to be the size of my living room, kitchen, and hallway put together. There was a bed on the right side, complete with purple bedding and two nightstands with simple, matching lamps. The wall behind it was an olive green, while the rest of the room was a light beige. On the same wall as the bed there was an open door leading to a private bathroom. On the wall opposite form the door, there were windows, a lounge chair, and the larger version of the two lamps. In front of the bed, there was a large sliding door, open now, leading to an empty walk-in closet. A mirror was pinned on the wall, right next to the window, opposite from another lounge chair and a coffee table.

It was gorgeous. But I was not about to thank him, no sir!

What I was about to do was take a long, hot shower.


Half an hour later, I felt thoroughly invigorated.

I pulled on a pair of dark-blue jeans, a sleeveless, loose brown top, and a pair of flats. I caught my hair in a pony-tail, secured every last rebellious strand with bobby pins, and I felt ready to take on the world. Only not really, because I was quite hungry. I hadn't eaten since the night before, and fighting with Sasuke since the wee hours of morning had taken more of my energy than I thought it would.

Exiting my room, I felt a small pang of curiosity as to who was assigned to each room and how far away from Sasuke's mine actually was, but it was soon redirected when I looked to my right and noticed something I had missed earlier. Right before the wall met the window, a couple of feet from my door, there was another set of stairs leading downwards.

With a frown on my face, I followed them; I was only half surprised to come across yet another room. It seemed to be a smaller living room, decorated in tones of whites and beiges, with the same sitting arrangements as the one downstairs, and a smaller, flat-screen TV. It didn't look any more lived-in than the rest of the house did, and I wondered how much time Sasuke actually spent around there. But I was quick to squash that thought.

Rounding the length of the couch, I passed by the windows; the view was to the garden, and I could see the village in the distance.

Heading for the door I had set my sights on, I nearly jumped out of my skin when it was yanked open right in front of me. My mouth opened automatically to scream at whoever it was that had scared me, but I closed it right back when my eyes registered the person now standing in front of me.

My features immediately aligned themselves in an expression of indifference; there was no way he would see he had affected me in any way.

On his part, he raised an eyebrow upon seeing me, as if demanding explanations, and as much as I wanted to punch his pretty face, I contained myself for the sake of obtaining information.

Pointing towards the door he still had a grip on, I asked, "Does that lead downstairs?"

"No." He rolled his eyes. "It leads to a hallway. And then to the stairs—because those are the only ones that can take you downstairs. Unless you want to jump out the window."

"Wow," I gaped, placing my hand over my heart. "You're so smart. I feel insignificant." Then I scoffed. "Let's make a deal, alright? This," I said, gesturing around me, "is close to my room, anyway. How about it remains my area?"

Crossing his arms over his chest, he looked the picture of arrogance and condescension. "And how would you define your area?"

"As a place your ass isn't allowed to step in," I retorted. "In turn, I won't use… your side of the house. Except for the kitchen and the front door." After a second thought, I added, "And the pool."

It took him about five seconds to make a decision. "Fine," he grunted, before moving past me.

My part of the house claimed, I continued on my way downstairs to see what there was to eat.


A/N: Visit my blog to see what I had in mind when I described the rooms—and the village, 'cause I forgot to put those up the first time, haha!
You can also visit my Flickr account for Sakura's outfit.

The next chapter should be out fairly quickly.

Please review!