The Way of the Sword
A Naruto fanfiction, By Serenanna
Lesson 08 – Much Ado About Takeo
Warnings and Disclaimers: I don't own Naruto or any of the characters. I'm just borrowing them to play with. I'll return them later, promise. There is adult content, and sexual situations in this story involving sharp, pointy objects. So, if you're under 18, leave now before your virgin eyes are scarred forever, if you're over 18, enjoy!
Story Notes: This is a Kakashi/Sakura fic, while other pairings may come and go. This story is a continuation of Ronsmyhero's Respect and Understanding. Reading that fic is a good idea in order to understand this one as there will be references from it. It was with her knowledge and stamp of approval . . . but I've since lost contact with her (Ronsmyhero, if you're reading this, e-mail me!). Mulling my options, I am going to continue as planned starting with this chapter.
In case she ever makes her own sequel, this is an AU take. I know a fanfic of a fanfic probably isn't a good idea, but I'm giving it a whirl. Ronsmyhero, this is in honor of you.
All warnings and such still apply! Refer to other chapters for full notes.
Sakura's head hit the pillow with a groan that was decidedly not one of pleasure. One hour of napping was all she needed to be ready to take on the rest of the world again, but somehow she didn't think Kakashi would allow her that much. After their lax in training prior to Tuesday, the bastard decided to step up his little lessons into almost day and night long sessions. He also expanded it beyond just sword fighting as well. Her taijutsu wasn't shabby at all, but he still made her train it anyway because of her slow reaction time when attacked. Instincts he'd called it, intuition. Women were supposed to be good at that, he had said, before blindfolding her two nights ago. She smiled slightly in remembering that night, snuggling the pillow.
Blind-fighting he had called it, but the straight taijutsu match turned into something more like blind-groping after about five minutes later. At least the next night when they tried it again, she had held out for at least half an hour before being grappled to the dirt. And afterwards? Well, that was the reason her smile went from ear to ear. Despite the continued distractions, the lesson had paid off well enough that day when she managed to keep up with Kakashi's attacks better than before. He still managed to wipe the floor with her though, removing the smile from her face as she nearly smothered herself in the feathers, "I'm a medic nin, not a fighter."
"That's not true, and you know it. Everyone fights," Kakashi said from behind her, "And you're improving."
She blinked a moment, almost thinking that her head had made up the compliment till he added, "But you still need lots of training."
Sakura groaned, intent to drown out any other lecture coming her way. He moved around the room as if she wasn't there, going through drawers and the closet. Damn him for being so full of stamina. He could have at least acted like he was tired after five hours of training that day. Sakura snarled, but didn't move from the bed, "I know that, but a little respite would be nice."
"You're getting a break tonight involving alcohol. What more do you need?"
"One day in bed with you, naked, and no Icha Icha, then I'll be fine."
Kakashi smirked, knowing she was just joking for his benefit. If that were to happen, it would be for cuddling and ogling purposes only, and not sex. Not that he would mind that too much. "If I make breakfast tomorrow, will you go back to training that afternoon without complaint?" he offered, standing by the side of the bed.
She turned to look up at him, getting an eyeful of the ANBU uniform he still wore with fresh clothes in hand. Slowly, she turned on her side to silently watch him while seeming to still be deciding on an answer. Sakura had one already in mind, but stalled for time just look at him before he disappeared into the shower. Kakashi sighed, sounding frustrated, and she finally spoke, "Alright, but no overdoing it tonight."
"I have a feeling I'll be too preoccupied anyway to really drink," he said with a smirk under the mask before dropping the clothes on the bed. She giggled, still watching as he turned to strip off the armor and long gloves, "With me, or the insane bunch you call friends?"
"Like the Yamanaka girl, Gai's clone, or our beloved loudmouth aren't any better?"
"You have to admit that some of them are a bit . . . 'touched' in the head."
Kakashi paused in un-strapping his short sword and vest to consider her words. Ok, so some of his circle of friends were a bit weird even by Konoha's standards, but at least they were mentally stable, except for his self-imposed rival perhaps. If he agreed with her, his response didn't reflect it, ". . . Duly noted."
He tossed the white vest down on the growing pile of discarded items then started to peel off his black shirt before stopped, the material clinging halfway up his chest, "I'm just a little worried about tonight since it seems most of them are going to be there."
"Oh?"
"Yes, Genma, Raidou, Gai, Asuma, Anko, and Kurenai, along with us. I don't know if Anko will drag Iruka-san along too . . . it'll be trouble if she does."
"Really? Genma and Gai taking it that bad?"
"Gai, somewhat, Genma . . . I have no idea if the woman wounded his pride, his heart, which I doubt he had to begin with, or if she hit him somewhere below the belt. Whenever someone mentions her anymore, he flinches and grumbles. Whatever she did to him, I don't think I want to know but we may find out anyway once they start drinking," Kakashi said, finally pulling the shirt over his head and tossing it.
Sakura couldn't help but smile, wondering exactly what the trench coat wearing maneater had done this time to her latest victim. Tentacle-hands Genma probably deserved it though. Maybe the karma would end once he learned to keep his hands to himself. Slowly, her smile died down though as she remembered that she still had a secondary mission tonight, Takeo. How was she ever going to break this to Kakashi without igniting the minefield that was his possessiveness of her? Ok, so maybe it wasn't so bad. He did trust her on her own, but this was different. If she was going to spend an hour or so in another man's place, and then show up in a highly watched bar with said man without giving her significant other any warning, it was asking for a bloodbath to happen. "Kakashi?" she asked as he sat down on the bed, hunched over to remove his sandals and foot bindings.
He grunted a response, and she continued, "I need to tell you something, please let me say it all because it's important?"
The silver-haired man stopped, turning slightly to look over his shoulder before abruptly facing straight ahead again, "Talk."
"Sasaki invited Takeo to join us tonight."
"Oh," he said blandly while internally sighing in relief. For a moment, he had thought it was something 'really' important.
"The problem is though that he's a lot . . . shier than we all thought. He isn't going to willingly step out of his apartment without something forcing him . . . I was going to go over there with Ino-Pig and apply said force."
Kakashi's eyebrows shot up even if she couldn't see it, "Why?"
"He is our teammate, and your subordinate, yet I barely know him. You've admitted that you barely know him. I think I've said all of five words in his company since rejoining Dragon Team."
"I've never had drinks with those under my command before, sort of friends or not. I'm not about to start now."
"That was because you were too intimidating to drink with before, with all that scary seriousness. Now? Not so much."
"And who's fault is that?"
"Yours for letting me onto Dragon Team in the first place where I could reveal all my little stories about you and the lateness, or the time you nearly dumped a table of food on Naruto, or when you got a nosebleed watching a sword fight, or how you go horribly geeky every time a new edition of Icha Icha comes out, or how about the time you-."
"Your point is made, vividly . . . I knew ANBU was a bad idea for you . . ." he groused, going back to unwrapping his feet, till she struck his shoulder lightly in revenge, "I can still be intimidating . . . when I want to be."
Sakura giggled, forgiving the comment and wiggling across the bed to wrap her arms over the back of his waist. Kakashi frowned, ". . . I don't like this idea. If he's that dead set against socializing, he shouldn't be forced."
"It's for his own good, anyway, and Saki-chan's. She's smitten with him, I can tell."
The hairs on the back of the Copy nin's neck rose in warning. Oh, this was bad, very bad. He'd seen it too during the few months the three of them had worked together previously, but it only looked like lust in Saki's eyes and the pair had maintained a professional distance. The little talk he had with the kunoichi had been in hopes that maybe she'd sleep with the sai-wielder to release some sexual tension, not attempt to form a lasting, but ultimately doomed, relationship. Then again, he tried that himself for one night with Sakura and was he ever wrong. He didn't regret it, but if he could spare his other teammates such a fiasco . . .
And yet, no matter what part Sakura decided to play in screwing up his team, Kakashi knew he had absolutely no room to talk . . . wouldn't stop him from trying though. Why did it seem that no matter how much he believed in anti-fraternization on the job, such dangers still seemed to bit him in the ass? "Are you sure?"
"She denies it, says she just wants to be his friend. But if her head doesn't get turned tonight, completely, it never will," Sakura said with idle confidence, and he could just imagine her examining her nails behind his back as she said that. It sounded more like his beloved was playing matchmaker. Kakashi bit down a groan and shook his head. No good would come of this night, that was certain. "So, let me get this straight then. You're going to Takeo's home, will attempt to rope him somehow into going out drinking, and meet me there then?" he asked flatly.
"Yup, just don't be too surprised or jealous when I show up with him? And it'll take me a while since Pig and I need to get him ready."
He blinked, "Ready?"
"It's a long story."
It was that point Kakashi figured the story was meant to be left untold, "What did I tell you about springing surprises on me? Especially ones you know I won't like."
"It was all Saki-chan's idea."
"And you're just going along with it?"
"I like to think of it as helping a friend in need."
"Sakura . . ." there was an annoyed tone on the edge of his voice, threatening to spill over into disappointment. She sighed, trying not to roll her eyes at him. This wasn't the way to start the rest of their night. "Kakashi, I'm sorry. I know I should have told you earlier, but would you rather I didn't tell you upfront at all?" she asked, gloved hands stroking his back.
"No, this way I have ample time get used to the idea. If your scheming backfires . . ." he warned her, glancing over his shoulder. Sakura smiled back at him, wrapping her arms over his waist instead. She nuzzled him like a large, highly pleased cat, a purr of contentment in her voice, "You can claim all plausible deniability."
If only. Somehow he doubted he'd get away that cleanly if the mess he kept imagining came to fruition. Shaking his head, Kakashi stood up from the bed and dropped his pants and underwear in one shot, leaving them behind as he walking into the bathroom. Sakura's gaze and head followed, green eyes plastered on his rear end. Her inner self watched too, drooling at the walking temptation in spite of her exhaustion. He closed the door behind him, ending the show as she rolled over.
Grabbing the little black alarm clock by the bed that they rarly used, she set a time for an hour nap, and remembered to switch it on unlike other times in the past. Maybe he had a point. This couldn't end good, could it? She still didn't have a clear idea on how she was even going to lure him out of his habitat. And yet, there was a feeling of rightness in her gut telling her that this was the way it should be, supporting her teammates by any means necessary. Inner Sakura reminded her of how it was his own fault anyway. Kakashi had pushed her to develop that intuition of hers into combat instincts, and that same intuition was telling her those two were meant for each other . . . even if they didn't know it. Irony, it seemed, had a funny way of getting results.
After the alarm went off, Sakura found herself surprisingly alone in the whole apartment. There was no sign of her lover anywhere except for the used towels and discarded clothes. The surprises in store for her didn't end there though. Wandering back to the bed and peeling off her uniform and weapons as she went, her eyes caught sight of a note left on their dresser. It was Kakashi's handwriting alright, a little more mature than Naruto's childish scribble, no where near as refined as her script, and with a slightly blocky look that was all his own. Like everything else he did, it was short and to the point as she read it aloud, "Went ahead. Dress is in the closet on the door, underwear in the top drawer. Didn't think I'd forget, did you? Two hours before I send Pakkun. Don't be late. Kakashi."
He even took the time to sketch a quick rendition of his happy face. The image wasn't as reassuring to her as he might have liked, "How did I get myself into again?"
Sakura eyed the closet with trepidation. Their little arrangement over her choice of clothing that night suddenly loomed before her, coiled like a striking snake ready to spring loose. And he complained about not liking surprises. She groaned wearily. Really, how bad could it be? Inner Sakura argued it could be pretty bad.
There was that one skimpy red dress Ino forced upon her when she was still on hospital duty and dateless. There was also that frilly purple gown Naruto handed to her as a joke when she learned Hinata wanted her to serve at one of the bridesmaids in her wedding. After finding out that the service would be all in kimono, she nearly beat the blond miscreant with the offending dress. The one from Ino's wedding half a year ago though was even worse, and it wasn't a joke. No matter how many times her lover had said she looked fine and wasn't fat that day, she still hated it. Instead of bows and ribbons, Pig had wanted them all to be trussed up with flowers. Flowers! Big ones, plastered all over the tail end of the dress till she looked like an overgrown garden. It must have amused the silver-haired ninja all day to watch the petals sway back and forth with each step she took. Her fellow kunoichi should be grateful that she never insisted upon Kakashi marrying her, big wedding and all, because otherwise they'd have to wear similar crimes to fashion that were bridesmaids' dresses for her big day.
Well, maybe they weren't all bad. The one Tenten came up with was gorgeous and worth keeping. It was a wrapped sheath of jade green silk brocade threaded with shades of the same hue and gold in a pattern of overlapping tree branches. The fabric gave the perfect illusion of staring up into the sun through a canopy of leaves, a marvel to look at when fitting to the body. The cut reminded her of the red and white dress she wore as a genin, high collar, short sleeves, and a slim, straight skirt. Black buttons and frogs held the dress closed down the right side before stopping at the mid-thigh to hang open in a slit. Matching ebony trim bound all the hems with a geometric pattern embroidered into the borders with gold thread.
Sakura smiled as she remembered that dress. Unlike the one for Ino's wedding, when she knew his compliments had been forced for the sake of her self-esteem, the look in Kakashi's eye when she appeared alone before the bride's arrival was enough to make her feel beautiful, even if he meant every compliment as well.
Maybe his taste wasn't as bad as she thought.
Summoning up her courage, Sakura went over to the closet door and opened it, beaming as her eyes fell on the exact green dress she had been thinking about. A little note pinned to the collar read 'Wear Me' including another humorous little sketch of Kakashi nodding in approval. "Oh, I could kiss you right now, you wonderful man!" she exclaimed to no one but herself as she pulled the long, thin dress from the hanger and laid it out.
The night and the devil's bargain Sakura had made was suddenly a lot easier to stomach than she thought. Turning around, she found a pair of black heeled sandals just inside the door with a similar note. Feeling rather good about the rest of the night, the kunoichi fairly skipped over to her underwear drawer in the dresser, happy as could be.
Until the smile was wiped from her face once she saw his choice in lingerie, or rather the lack there of.
"I'll kill him . . ."
Ino tapped her foot on the ground outside the building, ignoring the slight kick inside her stomach and weight of the satchel slung over her shoulder. Sakura was late again, the sun an hour away from setting. She should have realized sooner that her friend would always and forever now be running on Kakashi's time, which was at least fifteen minutes to three hours late for anything and everything. It was part of why she put the time two hours ahead on the wedding notices she sent to the pair. They still only showed up by the skin of their teeth. Groaning, the blonde was half tempted to slowly walk over to one of the benches and have a seat when she heard sandals clicking on the stones behind her.
Turning around, Akimichi-Yamanaka Ino's jaw dropped as she watched her friend walk across the street, looking at once radiant and mad as hell. Keeping the grin off her face was hard at petulant frown plastered all over Sakura's beautiful features. "Dressed to kill, but you look like you'd rather kill someone . . ." she mused aloud, "Does your intended victim have wild silver hair, a face mask, and an annoying orange book plastered to his hands?"
"Don't tempt me right now, Pig. When I see that man again, I will make him very, very sorry . . . maybe, I'm still deciding," Sakura said as her scowl softened into a pout. She shouldered a small pack slung over her back, crossing her arms over the front of the dress, "I can't believe I let him talk me into this . . ."
"Talk you into what?" Ino asked, her curiosity peaked even if she was still admiring the green dress. She remembered it alright, a similar style dress but in dark purple hanging in her own closet. Tenten did have good taste in clothes, "What's the occasion anyway? It certainly isn't for who we're visiting."
"I'll tell you later if I can make it through the night, and no occasion, unless you count my significant other's drinking buddies. Did you bring everything?" Sakura eyed the satchel on the blonde's shoulder. Ino nodded, patting the contents almost lovingly. "Everything needed to remake just about anything he has in his closet," she said with a beaming grin, "I can't believe you took me seriously in letting me help with this. I'm still getting over the story you told me yesterday when you barged into my shop after your training. He's really that bad?"
Sakura nodded, and her friend rambled on anyway as they headed to the doorway of the apartment building, "I can't believe we're actually going up there too, reminds me of the old days, like the time we barged into Naruto's apartment before his first date with Hinata. He was a wreck. Oh, is this going to be a story to tell on Wednesday."
"Don't get ahead of yourself, Ino-Pig. Stick to the mission plan."
"Right, I got the clothes. You got the hygiene. If he's as crummy as you say, I don't envy you. The things you do for 'mutual friends'."
Trying not to sigh at her friend's prattling, she climbed up the steps, giving the pregnant woman time to tackle them herself at a slower pace. Soon enough, Sakura led the way down a hallway, stopping at the last door before a bend to the left into another wing of the building. "This is it, 138," the pink-haired woman said before taking a deep breath before raising her hand.
The knock resounded on the wooden door.
"Go away," said an annoyed male voice on the other side of the door. Both women smirked. "Anti-social, huh?" Ino quipped, crossing her arms over her stomach.
Sakura knocked again, louder this time, and they both heard shuffling from the other side. "Go away! No solicitations accepted! No visitors! No house calls!"
Now he was just being difficult. Her frustration growing, the kunoichi's small but powerful fist pounded on the door, rattling Ino's nerves as much as the door frame, "Open up, Takeo!"
There was the distinct crash of a body hitting the floor on the other side as soon as she stopped knocking. The sound was followed by the shuffling of bare feet on wood planks, the scrape of furniture moving, and occasional cursing. It was taking him a while as Sakura casually leaned on the side of the door. Just when she thought he wouldn't answer, the portal was yanked wide open, a highly startled man on the other side gawking at her, "S-s-s-Sakura-chan?"
It must have been the dress as his sapphire eyes were as wide as saucers behind the black glasses, jaw moving up and down on its own. The pink-haired kunoichi grinned and stood up straight again, tucking a wayward lock behind her ear, "This dress isn't for you."
Before Sakura could explain, Ino butted her way beside her in the doorway, waving energetically, "Hi!"
"Um, hello?" the sight of the pregnant blonde seemed to sober up the look on Takeo's face that he scowled instead, already on the defensive, "Can I help you ladies? And who are you?"
Ignoring his question completely, Ino's eyes roamed up and down the tall man, taking in the glasses, the long blue-black hair loosely plaited in the back with a frizz to it, and the baggy sweats of washed-out black and navy that had faded to dark grey and light indigo. Sakura was too busy noticing the changes too. While in uniform, she would have sworn that he was drop-dead gorgeous, but now looking at him in his natural environment, he only looked cute, maybe not even cute with the scowl. If he'd been right in front of her face on a street, she wouldn't have even noticed him. "Wow . . . like day to night," Ino muttered lowly, her head tilted to the side, "You and Sasaki weren't kidding. And he's the one? Wow . . . she was right. He looks so harmless. You were right too. He kind of looks like-."
He looked like Sasuke, but with blue eyes, and if he had smiled at all. She had thought that the first time meeting Takeo too.
"Don't even say it, Pig."
He blinked, looking back and forth between them, "Sakura? What's the meaning of this? What did Sasaki tell you? No offense, but who is this woman? Why are you here? How did you even find where I live? . . . Wait, I think I know the answer to the last one . . ."
"Um, I think it would be best if we came inside for this discussion, if you'd please?" she asked, smiling hopefully. Almost reluctantly, he relinquished his hold on the door, allowing them to enter. Not wasting a moment, Ino barged right in, breezing past the very confused looking man to take in the surroundings. His living environment seemed to fit the package. Bookcases lined the walls, each one filled with books. They overflowed onto the floor in stacks followed by notebook upon notebook and boxes of pages, some typed, some marked in red ink, some scribbled by hand.
In the center of the mess was a crowded desk flanked by more stacks of paper-filled boxes. An ancient looking typewriter was shoved underneath while more paper, books, and pens littered the surface. Even the couch behind the desk was covered in stacks of paper, bringing a look of trepidation to Ino's face when she wandered over there to sit down. "Think I'll get a paper cut if I have a seat?" she asked, grinning widely.
Takeo sprung into action, seemingly forgetting the intrusion for the moment while shoving the papers aside, "Uh, sorry. I've been trying to get this done for weeks now, and I was close to the end when you knocked, at least I think it's an end. I never know for sure. I don't know why I bother. The last two haven't come out right, and I don't know what happened, and-, um . . . am I rambling?"
From the grins on the faces of both women, it was enough indication that he was indeed rambling, "I'm sorry. I get carried away sometimes . . . You still haven't answered my questions . . ."
"Well, you see . . ." Sakura started to say as she moved around to sit next to her friend without knocking over any of the precariously placed stacks, "It looks like you need a break."
The dark-haired man snorted in laughter, "What are you talking about? This is my break."
"I don't think the paper fetish is healthy though. I mean, this is worse than Kakashi-san, and everyone knows about his bibliophile tendencies and how warped that can be."
"Ino!" Sakura squawked, turning bright red, "I can't believe you just said that! He is not warped and you're digressing!"
Takeo's eyes went back and forth between the two women again, barely holding back the chuckles as he sat down on one stack of boxes off to the side, "So your name is Ino-san? That answers one question at least."
"Akimichi-Yamanaka Ino, pleased to meet you, Kimura-san," the blonde said with a bright smile, ignoring the scowling of her blushing companion. A look of fear crossed Takeo's face in spite of pleasant greeting. "Y-y-y-Yamanaka?" he asked breathlessly, "Oh shit . . ."
Ino blinked, "What?"
"Can you keep this little meeting to yourself? And about what you've seen? I . . . I know about the talk about me, and I know most of it passes through the Yamanaka shop. I'd prefer it if none of this got out . . ."
Sakura blinked as well, "You know about Pig and the rumor mongering? I thought you didn't get out much?"
Takeo frowned, crossing his arms over his chest, "I don't but it was kind of hard to miss when I was younger. It is better this way, being an enigma, which is why I don't bother confirming or denying anything anyone says about me. I just know the rumors are still persistent."
"I'll keep my mouth shut about this, Kimura-san, but you have to hear us out first."
He nodded as Sakura spoke up, "Saki-chan told us that she invited you out for drinks with myself and Kakashi tonight, and that you accept before starting to pull away. Obviously, you've either forgotten, or had no intention of going in the first place."
A look of guilt flashed across his face, lips pressed into a thin line, "I'm sorry. I lied to her. I have no intention of going anywhere tonight. I am sorry for wasting your time."
Takeo looked down, fidgeting on his seat on the boxes while trying not to see the stunned disbelief on the faces of the two women. While they'd expected resistance, his admission of lying was a bit . . . cold, and sudden. Green eyes narrowing on the man, she knew there was something else off about what he said. The words came out too easily along with the guilt. He was hiding something. Her inner self picked up on that thought, taking it further with the realization that he was hiding the fact that he said yes to Sasaki because he wanted to. He did like her, but was chickening out. That had to be the reason, she was sure of it. "Why don't I believe that?" Sakura asked, the timber in her voice rising, "Why would you agree in the first place?"
"Because I didn't want to hurt Saki's feelings. She caught me off-guard that day, much like you are now. I really do have things I should be doing instead."
"Oh, like back peddling now isn't going to hurt her feelings any less? It's one night. It's not going to kill you. Why are you making such a big deal of this?"
"Why are you? Why should you care so much what I do or don't do?" he glared at the pink-haired woman before looking away, "You have no right to ask anything of me since you don't know me."
"Isn't that some of the point in asking you to come out of this hidey-hole? What are you afraid of? She just wants to be your friend. I want to be your friend. We want to be your friends. Is that too much to ask?"
Anger flashed across Takeo's dark blue eyes, "It is too much to ask of me. You don't know me at all, Sakura-chan, none of you do, so don't presume as much. We're just 'mutual friends', and that's it. I would like to leave it as such if you don't mind."
Ino glanced over at her friend in time to see anger pass through her green eyes. She wasn't all that surprised at the rise in temper, the feeling growing in her as well while sitting there throughout the argument. Men are so frustrating sometimes. What did Takeo need to understand? For it to be spelled out for him in bright red ink like all the pages littered around them? The boiling anger in Sakura was replaced quickly though with a barely-held front of cold civility as she rose from the couch, "Pig, excuse me a moment please. I need to have these words with Kimura-san in private."
"No excuse needed, Forehead, just be gentle," she said with an amused smirk. Without warning, the pink-haired kunoichi lunged forward to snag the man's wrist, tugging him towards a nearby door. He was pried off his seat much too easily for being bigger than the petite woman, almost yelping in surprise as he almost flew into her. Once Takeo was on his feet though, he followed her, oblivious to the grip on his wrist till it was gone and the door slammed shut behind them.
Of all the places to choose in his little apartment for their talk, she picked his bedroom not that she noticed too much. It looked like the rest of the place, cramped, cluttered, and piled with more books and papers among the dirty clothes. Sakura was much too angry to notice much else, growling a response, "I do mind, very much. We're teammates, which necessitates a certain amount of trust. The life of the man I love, my own life, and Saki's could potentially be in your hands one day. I would imagine this lesson has been ground into you before, but saying we're all 'just' teammates so casually doesn't make me trust you any more than I could toss you through that wall."
Takeo stood with his back to her, hunched over. She could see the flinch in his shoulders, and knew that perhaps she's been a little too blunt in her anger. Sighing, Sakura sagged back against the door, kicking it lightly with the back of her heel, "I'm sorry if this seems selfish of me to ask of you, but . . . I don't believe for a moment that you're this uncaring about your teammates. No one can be like that without being a block of ice. If you were, then you never would have said yes to her in the first place, or let me barge into your personal space. I'm not asking for you to sacrifice your life for us right now, just one night of your sobriety, is that too much to ask for? I'm not even the one that even asked you in the first place, Sasaki did. You should really be thinking of her."
He flinched again, sounding pained, "You don't know what you're asking for because you don't know me. Sasaki doesn't know either. You're both meddling in things that would be better left alone. I am a shinobi. I know the value of trusting my teammates to do their job. I know the choices I make will never be easy. I know these things. What I don't understand is why you both even care."
"And I don't understand why you don't."
"I won't answer that . . ."
"You don't have to. If I knew you'd be this shut off already, I wouldn't have bothered. But Sasaki saw something in you when, as you said, you were caught off-guard. She finds you worth the effort . . ."
Takeo flinched once more, harder than before, as if she'd just cuffed him on the back of the head like she'd done to Naruto so often. And yet Sakura stood across the room, waiting for an answer. "Why would she think something like that?" he asked suddenly, sounding surprised, "I'm not worth it."
Despite herself, she snorted in giggles, grinning while shaking her head, "Men never change. Always the same excuses. Is it really that hard to believe? When a woman thinks you're worth the effort, usually we're right. You'd be better off just giving in now and accepting that fact."
"Do I want to know how you learned this invaluable lesson?" Takeo asked with a sarcastic edge to his voice. The tone didn't faze Sakura at all, smiling again even if it was to his back. "Maybe some other time I'll tell you, or maybe even tonight, that is if you're going . . ." she trailed off with a curious lilt.
"You don't know me . . ."
"So?"
"I really mean it. This isn't going to go as well as you'd like to think. None of you know what it's been like for me . . ."
"Will you tell me what it's been like then? Some time tonight?"
"No."
"Eventually?"
"Maybe . . ."
"Then why does it matter? No matter what anyone says, you'll still have us. That is one of the tenets of being friends and not just teammates, isn't it?"
Takeo snorted, "You don't give up, do you?"
"Never," Sakura said cheerfully.
He sighed, "Why?"
"Why not?"
Takeo chuckled bitterly, and turned around to see the smile on the pink-haired woman's face. The expression on his face was one of consideration, looking into her green eyes like he was looking for something, but she wasn't moved at all. He could see that there was something about Sakura that was different than the two absent members of Dragon team, something more vibrant. If he had to place a finger on it, the emotion she exuded could only be one thing, hope. It took hold and spread under his skin like an infection the more he looked at her, shouting exuberantly in his head that he should listen to her.
Maybe she was right. Why not? Why not just screw it all and try just once? Maybe life outside his apartment and job wasn't as hopeless as he always thought. And if he failed, again, there was the usual way out. Maybe this time would be different.
Still, she didn't know him at all, none of them did. If even had an inkling of what his life was . . . he didn't know what they'd do.
Yet, he still felt the tug of something at the mention of Sasaki. The image of the purple-haired kunoichi snapped into his head. She was the root of all this fuss over him. Was this all her idea?
He doubted it.
No, he imagined that all she did was voice her concerns to the woman in front of him to set the wheels of entrapment into motion. Women . . . What must Sasaki have said to Sakura to make her this maniacal in her machinations? Takeo could only imagine till his slowly growing hope kicked in. Could it be that the woman that plagued him had revealed something more than just wishing to innocently converse over drinks?
Now there was something to hope for even if it made him feel foolish for hoping for so much. No, she couldn't feel like that. Sakura had said Sasaki just wanted to be friends. She'd even admitted herself to wanting to know him better. And yet, the purple-haired woman's dark eyes still held their usual half-dead, half-surviving expression the day before last. Could she have meant that even if her heart wasn't there? Then again, where was his heart as well? He did just want to be her friend right, nothing more and nothing less? Was that what she really wanted too? Friends? Wasn't this was friends were supposed to do? Give a swift kick in the ass when it was needed? Why would anyone be offering him a chance at friendship? He never needed it before . . .
Takeo's mind seemed to run in circles within circles over that concept, ignoring Sakura completely till he heard the door open again. Looking back up, he saw her standing to the side, hand on the knob, "Yes or no?"
This was a chance, wasn't it? An open door to a change, for better or for worse? His hope didn't stand a chance of resisting, dragging the rest of his better senses along for the ride.
The dark-haired man shuffled past her out the door and around the blonde on the couch. He didn't stop till he reached the entrance to the apartment, grabbing a pair of sandals for his bare feet. This was it. He'd made up his mind. He'd caved, a little. All he needed to do was imbibe a few drinks, appease the pink-haired troublemaker by just looking like he was having fun, get to know the dark-eyed kunoichi better, and he could be home in time to finish writing before he knew it. It was a sound plan till he heard the twin giggles behind him. Looking over his shoulder, he could see the pinched expression on Ino's face, nose crinkled in distaste, "You're not going outside like that, are you?"
He blinked, "Like what?"
"Like you haven't seen clean clothes, a shower, or even a hair brush in a few days," she teased.
Sakura sighed, coming up behind her, "Don't be too harsh on him, Pig. I didn't see any mirrors around here."
"What? It's just drinks, not a date . . . right?" he squeaked nervously, "Right?"
The two women looked at each other, and he could just feel the strings being pulled invisibly.
"Don't start. I am quite comfortable going out like this. Sasaki said this wasn't a date. I don't need-," Takeo started to argue, stopping once he noticed that they had already left the room to go back into the bedroom he'd just vacated, "Oh shit . . ."
Walking quickly, he found them riffling through his closet, their bags on his bed, and giggling to themselves like meddling pixies. He scowled, filing the analogy away for later reference, "What are you two doing?"
"Looking for clothes for you that aren't two sizes too big," Ino said, metals hangers scraping along the wooden pole as she pushed them back and forth, "What is it with men and dark colors?"
"I know, or the uniforms. I swear I can't get Kakashi to give up his vest, ever, or all those dark blue shirts and pants."
"Better than black."
"But he wears black too! And his are all too big too! He keeps pushing the sleeves up! It annoys me!"
"I thought you liked his forearms? And since when did you dictate his wardrobe?"
"I do like his forearms, and I don't dictate his wardrobe at all, but still. You'd think he'd put in some more effort when I dress up for him almost all the time."
"Why? He's already hooked you hasn't he?"
Ignored, Takeo blinked, attempting to block the topic of conversation from his mind, "I don't want to know. I don't want to know. I don't even want to know . . ."
Sakura giggled, remembering him again, "Relax, we have one hour to get you ready. Um, maybe you shouldn't relax. You still need a shower."
"But I'm fine . . ."
"Then how do you explain the hair? When did you last brush it?" Ino asked, not even glancing over through her rummaging. That was a good question as he tried to think about it. Only time he ever seemed to care about his appearance was before training or on missions, when it was important. Pulling at the long braid, Takeo groaned at the sight of loose hairs. Maybe he should wash up, but it didn't seem like good idea with the two women going through his clothes. "I can handle this on my own, thank you both very much . . ." he growled as they started to explore elsewhere, including some of the boxes he thought he'd buried, "Um, you don't want to-."
"Kami-sama! Sakura! Jackpot!" Ino crowed as she pulled out a pair of black pants, black leather pants to be exactly. Apparently his warning was too late as Sakura's eyes widened, trying to snag the garment from her friend. Takeo got a hand on them first, pulling them away as he blushed in mortification, "You never saw these, and I'm never wearing them again."
"Like hell you aren't! Those are perfect! You'll have every woman absolutely swooning!" Ino said as she grabbed one pant leg, yanking them back.
"I didn't agree to that! Those are not my every day clothes! I wouldn't be caught dead in that stuff!" he yelled, trying to pry the leather loose from her grip.
"Then why are you keeping them?" Sakura asked, watching the tug of war with amusement. Takeo turned red, giving up the battle before they tore the pants in half to leave Ino cackling in victory. He turned to answer the other woman, nervously scratching his hair, "Undercover missions . . ."
The meaning sunk in as she nodded slowly, "That makes sense . . ."
"You still have to wear these. No argument!" Ino yelled, shaking the leather in her fist at the man's face.
"But I can't! I, um, well, I out grew that pair," he said reluctantly, reaching for them again, "Just give them back . . ."
The blonde slapped Takeo's hands away and moved past him to the satchel she had earlier placed on the bed and Sakura's pack. Without ceremony, she started dumping out the contents of both bags, "If they don't fit, we'll make them fit."
Just when he was about to ask how she intended to do that, the tools she pulled out became somewhat more familiar. Sewing needles, pins, thread, scissors, everything needed for a sewing emergency. He didn't question the blonde's judgment till a small hammer, a wooden block, a steel die punch, and several metal rings emerged from the bag along with a large pair of fabric shears. "What the hell do you think you're doing?!" he yelled, completely oblivious as Sakura still looked through his clothes.
A sinister laugh came from Ino as she started to lay out the pants on his sheets, "I'm going to remake these so they fit you. Just need to cut the legs open and line grommets down the openings and lace it shut. Sakura, sides or front?"
"Front, definitely the front. Wait, you didn't plan on wearing underwear tonight, did you?" the pink-haired woman asked from inside his closet, grinning. Takeo looked mortified, "Excuse me!? What the hell kind of question is that?!"
"Well, it'll look horrible with the amount of skin you'll be exposing to ruin it with underwear . . . your legs aren't hairy either right?" Ino asked, already slicing up one pant leg with the shears.
For a moment, he thought his eyes would roll into the back of his head if either of them asked one more personal question. What exactly had he gotten himself into? Swaying slightly, Takeo collapsed onto the end of the bed, clutching his head, "No, not hairy at all . . ."
"You don't look so good, you ok?"
"Gee, I'm being dragged out to somewhere I really didn't want to go and trussed up like a lamb to the slaughter by two deranged kunoichi. All because some female acquaintance asked me out for one drink, and like the sucker I am, I said yes," he complained, words muffled in his hands, "Is there a reason I can't just look, you know, normal?"
"Because you're too hot to look just normal," Ino said happily, shears clipping away. Sakura gasped, eyes nearly popping out of her head while looking at her friend. "Pig, for goodness sake, you're married and pregnant with your husband's first child! You can't say stuff like that to another man!" she yelled, embarrassment clear on her face.
"I'm not dead, Forehead, just married. Besides, he probably knows this already, and just doesn't want the attention."
Between chuckles, Takeo nodded, "She's right. It's why that stuff is only for missions, because . . . well, I assume you know already."
"Quite, but, I won't say anything since we already agreed. Besides, I'm only here for sartorial consulting, not life counseling" Ino said as she put the shears down, glancing at Sakura who was still rummaging in the closet, "Find anything for a shirt yet?"
"Two yukatas in the box you found those pants in, black and grey, but not much else. Dark colors seem to rule it all. Not even a nice, sapphire blue something in here, all navy."
"Guess all black can work. No tight sweaters? No sleeveless shirts? Nothing?"
"Could use one of his ANBU uniform shirts. Women love them. I know I do on Kakashi at least," Sakura chirped with a giggle.
Takeo groaned again, "I heard nothing . . ."
Both women laughed, oblivious as he stood up from the bed and walked to towards the bathroom. It was the only thing he could do as there was no stopping them now. Perhaps he was being too much of a doormat by letting them barge in, talk him into something he didn't want to do, and then have their way with his clothes. But . . . at least they didn't ask anything personal, just went about their own business without really intruding into his personal history and demanding explanations. It wasn't good, but it could have been a lot worse. He watched them from the doorway, talking in quick, merry voices while milling over his rags. Was he really worth all this effort? Sakura looked up at him a moment and beamed, "Go wash up. We'll have something for you when you come out. One hour."
The dark-haired ninja nodded and closed the door behind him, leaving them alone.
It took Takeo half an hour to finish showering and drying his long hair. That seemed to be the most tedious part as he looked in the mirror, fidgeting with the poker-straight ponytail down his back. Sakura was wrong. He did keep at least one mirror in the apartment, but he usually kept a towel hung over it and never looked at it unless he had to. Why was he bothering this much? He only ever groomed himself this much to seem somewhat professional when it came to being a shinobi. Ninjas only ever looked like hammered crap after a mission, not beforehand. He didn't like caring for his obscenely long hair either. He only kept it that way because it was required of him. Takeo frowned at his reflection, pulling the glasses off of his face and tossing them onto the sink counter. No one needed to know of the sacrifices he made for Konoha's safety, or the devil's bargains he made for his own personal security, to survive from day to day.
Survival, yup, that seemed to be the sum of his life every time he looked at his reflection.
He hung the towel back over the mirror and wrapped another larger towel over his waist before peeking out the bathroom door. Sakura and Ino were gone along with the mess they had made on his bed. Wandering out, he saw a set of clothes on top of the covers with a note. Picking up the paper, he read it to himself then crumpled and tossed aside. All it stated was that they were waiting for him on the benches by the Jounin building, that was if he still felt up to venturing into the outside world. He had been anticipating that part. Sakura was too nice not to give him one more way out, just in case she really, really didn't understand him.
Avoiding the clothes for now, Takeo walked back out to the main room and to his desk, taking a seat on a rickety old chair. He looked at the page before him, mumbling the words to himself before cringing. Who was he deluding by thinking he could attempt to finish this? Himself? His editor? The ending he had in his head would never work out the way he wanted it to. He wanted a happy ending for once, but the characters never seemed to want that. Ever since he'd started on Dragon Team, all that ever seemed to develop was one character fighting another, or inter-personal drama over their troubles. No grand adventures, no magic no romance, no tragedy, just . . . bitterness.
Takeo grabbed the stack of pages in front of him and flung them across the room in frustration. It was useless, the most inane thing he'd ever written. There had to be a reason for the deterioration of his work. Maybe it was because he never really wanted to protect Konoha, escaping into the outside world instead with his writing. It made everything feel better. Yet, for the past few months, he'd been so focused on being a good shinobi for once given the presence of such respectable ninjas, and on keeping his life hidden from them, that everything else seemed unimportant. When he could finally focus on doing something he loved, writing, instead of something he was forced to do, it came out like so much garbled trash. Something else seemed important now, and escape from it was useless . . .
Or maybe he just had writer's block.
Slumping over the desk, his forehead banged a few times on the hard wood. Sakura was right. He needed a break, inspiration again, something that wasn't ninja-related or book-related. He needed a drink or twenty. Maybe a woman? Takeo shuddered, closing off that thought before it could mature. No way in hell. Not now, and not again. Besides, it was too relevant to his work to be a consideration, ever . . . even if part of his night entailed meeting and talking to one particular woman. For some reason, his hope still cheered gleefully at the mere thought of Sasaki.
Damn, why did that have to happen?
Friends, right? He just wanted friends, a friend, a good friend, and yet he wanted to avoid her at all costs at the same time. Why did he want to run every time he faced even the thought of her? Well, he knew the answer to that easily, but would never ever admit it, not even to himself. Running was part of the way he survived after all. He'd gotten very good at it. But why run from Sasaki? That was a good question. What was he afraid of from her? That she'd find out the truth? She seemed to already know part of it, and not care. Would she still care when she found out the rest? Well, she already went to all the trouble of opening her mouth first. It was a childish mentality, but she did start it, this friendship thing, so she was asking for something to happen. He had to deliver, right?
"Just friends, right?" he muttered to himself, sitting back and crossing his arms over his chest, "Why the hell not?"
Takeo stood back up from the desk and walked into the bedroom while humming himself. The purple-haired kunoichi wouldn't know what hit her.
Sakura's heel tapped on the ground outside the apartment building. Kakashi had written that she had two hours before he'd send Pakkun. They would be cutting it close, if Takeo showed up at all. Ino didn't look too hopeful from her spot on the bench, watching her pink-haired friend pace the stones. "Maybe he changed his mind? You did leave him a way out after all," she said, hands shoved into the pockets of her dress to keep from fidgeting, "I told you it was a bad idea."
"I know, but he looked so . . ."
"Oppressed? We did kind wheedle our way into his place and raid his wardrobe. Naruto only let us pull it off on him because he was so helpless otherwise when it came to girls, and he was so nervous too."
"You're right. We're not kids anymore. I shouldn't have been so stupid to think I could help out a grown man I don't even know too well. But . . . it felt right, still feels right. You saw the way he was, and the way Sasaki talked about him. She likes him, and he likes her, they just . . ."
"You always were a hopeless romantic, Forehead," Ino said with a gentle smile, closing her eyes and tilting her head up towards the night sky before looking back down, "Do you think those rumors are true, the ones about him being a predator?"
"Do you?"
"No, not anymore . . . but how did they get started in the first place? Why?"
"I don't know, and I don't think I care. Sasaki obviously doesn't care. And I don't know if Kakashi even knows. If he does, he really doesn't care since he's never said anything. Does that worry you? That we don't believe those rumors?"
"Rumors usually have a grain of truth to them, Sakura. And I know you saw how he outright lied to us, or bottled his emotions up tight, as unreadable as that garble he scribbled on the few pages I saw. Takeo may be harmless now, but what if it's just a front?"
"What if the reputation is a front? It has to be just a front. That's the other side of the rumor remember, that if he isn't forcing himself on women, they flock to him anyway."
"Well that isn't true . . . Even if it may be after tonight with what we've done to his appearance . . . If Takeo planted all the gossip about himself on his own, he's quite clever. Repulsing and intriguing those rumors, don't know what to believe about him . . ."
Ino's voice trailed of, leaving the air silent between them as they both watched the building again. Minutes later into the expectant waiting, the blonde spoke suddenly, almost startling her friend, "I am so glad you asked for my help with his clothes. I don't think I've had this much fun in months!"
"Well, you and trouble seem to go hand in hand, which is why you're one of my favorite accomplices, Ino-Pig. Besides, Naruto can't sew to save his life."
They laughed together, but as the happy noise calmed down, Sakura was sure she saw something flicker through her friend's blue eyes. It was worry, fear.
"Be careful with this one, Forehead," she said suddenly and seriously, the teasing nickname come off more like an endearment in her voice, "I know we always get bad feelings and all, and they turn out to be nothing sometimes, but . . . I got a bad feeling about this one that I can't help but feel. Maybe not bad for you, but for them . . . maybe it wasn't meant to happen."
Sakura slid down onto the bench beside her, sighing, "I know, Ino . . . I know . . . I learned a year ago that love and life is a crashing river. When you least expect it, it changes course and takes you along with it whether you want to go or not. You can't plan for anything, and I shouldn't be playing with two people, arranging things, when the changes could bury me, but . . . there's still hope, isn't there? It's gotten me this far, and I'm grateful for it. Maybe it'll help my friends as well."
"Well, we did our best."
"We did . . . You're ok, right? All that work must have been stressful. I don't know how you could sew up those yukata so fast after I trimmed them."
"It's all in the hands, which is how I can arrange flowers so quick."
"And toss kunai."
"I haven't done that in months . . . well, not since the wedding . . . I do feel tired. My feet are killing me."
"At least you're not as big as Hinata. She's almost ready to pop. You should still be off your feet," Sakura lectured her friend, nodding sagely. Ino giggled, sticking out her tongue teasingly at her friend, "Yes, doctor Haruno."
She sighed, turning away, "I'm a medic-nin, third best in the village, and no one ever takes my advice, not even my friends."
"I do so take your advice. In fact, I'm going to take it right now and go home to my husband and a nice big plate of barbeque, starving," Ino muttered as she got to her feet.
"And you complain that I'm becoming like Kakashi when you're starting to pick up Chouji's eating habits," Sakura giggled, removing the pack from her shoulder and handing it to her, "Don't lose that, all my mending things are in there. I'll pick it up tomorrow. Probably will need it too . . ."
"Planning on getting a rip in your dress then," the blonde asked with a lascivious grin.
"No, but I know it'll happen anyway. It can't be helped."
"If it happens, I want to know how it happens, and where, and how many positions too."
Sakura laughed, "Pig! You know I'll never tell!"
"I know, but can you blame me for trying?"
"Maybe . . ."
"Good night, Sakura-chan. Don't wait for him too long. You can't keep another man waiting forever," Ino said with a wink and a wave of her hand as she started down the road.
She laughed again, smiling as she shouted, "Good night, Ino! And thank you!"
Soon enough, her blonde friend was gone and Sakura was left on the bench all alone. The stars were already out, any clouds overhead scant in appearance. The street lights around the Jounin building were bright in contrast, making the night sky even darker. Ino was right. She didn't know what to think about Takeo. He was about as transparent as smoke. Perhaps that was what Sasaki saw in him in the first place, a mystery to dig through. The question was what would her friend find in the core of him? Maybe that was what made her afraid for the both of them, like Ino, even if the right feeling still stuck to her ribs.
All she could do was hope for the best, that he'd put on the clothes and any moment come walking down to the door of apartment building, letting the three of them invade his life for one night at least.
But as the lonely minutes dragged on, the hope slowly diminished.
When Pakkun came trotting up to her heels, the hope faded completely, "Your mate requests your presence at-."
Sakura cut the pug off as she stood up, resisting the childish impulse to stomp her feet as she trudged off, "I know! I'm coming! Damnit! Men! So stubborn, and foolish, and horrible, and-!"
"Sakura-chan!"
Her tirade at the dog stopped as she looked up to see Takeo running towards her. "And tardy," the dog muttered with a roll of his mud-colored eyes before he caught a scent on the wind, "Wait, is he the one I-?"
"Yup."
The dog's eyes narrowed on the man's appearance, "That is your doing, isn't it?"
"Yup."
"Good-bye, Sakura. It was pleasant knowing you," Pakkun said with a grim nod before disappearing with a poof of smoke. The pink-haired woman smirked, watching as the man slowed down to walk beside her. Takeo looked perfect, almost too perfect to be believed. She couldn't keep her eyes from glancing at his legs, and with good reason. She'd outdone herself this time. Kakashi would be livid. The entire bar would be in an uproar. Sasaki would be beside herself, or had better be after seeing their teammate in tight leather. When the night was over and another team meeting was called, she would definitely be borrowing those pants to see if their effect would be even more potent on the Copy nin's body. The mental image alone made her knees wobble slightly.
Sakura smirked, looking ahead again before she drooled or something equally embarrassing, "Almost thought you wouldn't make it."
"Sorry, took a while lacing these things, wrapping my wrists, and finding sandals. Did she have to use so many grommets?" Takeo complained, pulling on the leather, "At least they fit now . . . I suppose I should say thank you, to you and Ino-san."
"Thank us later, especially if you get laid tonight."
The man stopped walking, frozen in the street as he turned bright red under the street lamps. Sakura stopped as well, trying her hardest not to laugh in his face but it came out anyway, loudly. Takeo frowned, not finding his embarrassment particularly funny. She shoved at his shoulder, still giggling like a loon, "I was just joking. You do need a drink."
He smirked, but didn't say anything while walking along.
"Do you think anyone will notice me escorting you into the bar?" he asked suddenly, his voice almost nonexistent.
"It'll be a miracle if we don't put the whole place to silence."
". . . Kakashi is going to murder me."
"Not once I sit on his lap . . ." Sakura said mysteriously, holding her head a little higher, "It'll be a night to remember, that's for sure."
Takeo smiled then reached across the deliberate space between them to hook her arm in his, "Well, if I'm going to die, it might as well be in style next to a beautiful lady."
She laughed again, "Save the charm for someone it'll actually work on, pretty boy. I am much too taken."
He chuckled as well, "Eh, well, I couldn't help it. It was the dress. Besides, what sort of gentlemen would I be without giving out one compliment in the face of such loveliness?"
There no way to take his words but anything as non-serious. Sakura rolled her green eyes, sounding rather sarcastic, "I cannot wait to find out."
To Be Continued in Lesson 09 of The Way of the Sword, The Friday Night Drunkard Jounin's Social Club.
