February – Week 1

Sakura dumped her textbooks onto their study table gracelessly, disturbing a few students nearby. Not that she cared, anyway.

She had bigger fish to fry.

"Ino-chan," she whispered as she slid into the seat across the aforementioned. Ino was unphased, gently bobbing her head to the music blaring through her AirPods as she dutifully took down notes. Sakura, mildly curious, tilted her head as she tried to decipher Ino's bubbly pink-inked handwriting. It was definitely higher-level neuroscience – parts of it Sakura understood due to her background as a pre-med student, and parts of it were completely out of her realm.

Sakura scoffed and rolled her eyes before trying Ino again, "Oink, oink, piggie," reaching across to tap her on the shoulder.

Ino sneered, pulling off one AirPod.

"I hear you, Forehead."

Sakura shrugged and grabbed her notebook out of her backpack.

"You gotta help me with this Counseling II stuff. We get our clients next week and I'm just. Not ready," Sakura explained, sifting through pages and pages of notes she had already allocated. It'd only been a few weeks of classes, and she was already sure she'd undershot the size of the notebook she'd be needing.

Ino took out her second AirPod and tucked them away in their case.

"What do you know about them?" she asked.

Sakura balked, "Nothing. Kurenai-sensei said they're doing random this year for a more authentic experience."

"That makes sense."

"That makes sense," Sakura mocked. She ignored Ino's glare and continued, "I could get a lunatic!"

Ino frowned, "Now you know, that is not very neuro-diversity positive of you."

Sakura grumbled and buried her head in her hands. She didn't need criticism from Ino right now. She needed answers!

Why else keep Psych majors for friends if not for answers to all of your life's problems!

As Sakura queried all the (nonsensical) reasons why pre-med students needed to take as many psychology courses as they did in order to graduate, Ino took it upon herself to snoop through her best friend's chicken-scratch for something useful. It had been a couple of semesters since she'd taken a psychotherapies course but...the blonde tapped her chin as she thought about the best plan of action she could offer her (clearly struggling) friend. She also puzzled over the several textbooks Sakura had checked out from the library on counseling theories. Everything from Freud to Zimbardo was represented.

Sakura was really putting her all into this, and she hadn't even started yet. This was already worlds better than the effort that she'd put into Counseling I, which the pair had taken together (allegedly). For all intents and purposes, Sakura had only made it out of there by the grace of God and, obviously, the geniusness that was one Ino Yamanaka.

"You're looking at this too hard, Forehead," Ino sighed as she tried to decipher Sakura's maniacal diagram of the CBT Model. It was supposed to be, simply, a freaking triangle, and the rosette had somehow managed to turn it into a plot for world domination.

Sakura peeled her head off the wood of the table (leaving an ugly pink ghost on her porcelain skin in its wake) and stared at Ino, mouth agape, at a loss.

Ino scoffed and flipped to a blank page of Sakura's notebook. Then, she handed her her pink pen.

"Repeat after me. You can't do any more harm than harm done without."

Sakura held Ino's pen dumbly. "...what?" she murmured.

Ino repeated, "You can't do any more harm, than the harm that can be done without. It's what my dad says. If someone needs help, you being there as someone who wants to help them is better than nothing. Do you want to help?"

Sakura nodded.

"Okay then! Suck it up!"

Sakura pouted. "But, Ino-chan–"

"No," Ino shook her head and waved her hand. "None of that. Write down the theories you know and your strengths and weaknesses in each. This is cake, and you're going to eat it."

"This is cake and I'm going to eat it," the rosette repeated, confidence growing. She knew all of the theories. She could write a list, no problem! Her pen moved down the page with ease, a smile growing.

Whoever her client would be, they were no match for her.

Shannaro!

Sasuke slotted his phone in between his cheek and shoulder while he habitually twirled his football into the air, catching it with ease as he leaned back and spun in the desk chair that he'd just finished putting together. He'd very rarely been on a phone call as awkward, yet interesting, as the one that he was in now.

It was like every three minutes, he and this girl would go back and forth for a few good exchanges...and then...silence. He didn't mind it – he had a chair to put together, after all – but he could tell by the nervous chuckles and fervent flipping of pages that his conversation partner was more than a little uncomfortable.

He stopped spinning the ball when he heard her gulp loudly.

"Am I the problem?"

"No," Sasuke answered quickly, simply.

She sighed, seeming relieved, "Ah, I see. Do you know what the problem is?"

"There's no problem."

And, there it was. The silence.

Sasuke went back to his football, propping his feet on his desk and thinking about what all he had left on his plate. Finessing this counseling thing was a huge relief because now he could finally get Itachi off his back a little. If it went like this every time, Sasuke figured he'd be able to kill two birds with one stone and maybe do some homework at the same time. The system might be random, but it sure seemed like it would be working well for him this semester.

Sakura's eyes were wary as she tried to mime her concerns to Ino, who was filing her nails absent-mindedly at the foot of the rosette's bed. She'd put this conversation on speaker, a direct violation of both Kurenai-sensei and the Counseling Center's rules, and invited Ino in to listen as support and guidance as needed.

And Ino wasn't even friggin' helping!

The rosette plunged her nails into her mouth and started gnawing. What could she do, what could she do? This guy was giving her no budge. She abruptly stopped chewing her nails and flipped through her notebook. The pages were roughened up with her abuse, and she cursed her handwriting to hell for being so damn illegible. Why didn't she work on this more as a child? Who told her that she could keep writing messy if it meant she would be a doctor one day?

That was a lie!

Sakura choked on a silent groan. Her silence was verging on awkward. She had to say something, if only to make sure this guy was still on the line.

She took a deep breath and exhaled.

What.

Would.

Ino.

Do?

"I'll talk to you next week, Uchiha-san."

His phone beeped three times, signaling the disconnection, and Sasuke smirked as he stared at the simple uchiwa fan of his clan on the background of his phone.

That was...interesting...to say the least.

He leaned back in his chair, swinging from side to side briefly. Then, the emblem of his uchiwa necklace found its way into his mouth as he fiddled. He wasn't sure how he felt about the experience altogether, except for the fact that he wanted to do it again.

With her.

Specifically.

"Let's see what you've got," Sasuke murmured to himself, releasing his necklace and letting it fall back against his chest. He reached for the Bluetooth mouse on his desk and shook it slightly to awaken his desktop. The first thing that he did was give his session five stars – no, nope, never mind, 4.5. There's always room for improvement.

Then, he clicked to his calendar and blocked off thirty minutes every Tuesday at 8:00 pm for the remainder of the semester.

He would, most definitely, be doing this again.