Disclaimers are at the beginning, but there are no more warnings this time around, except that this chapter is really short. Sorry! I didn't have time to write anymore, 'cause stupid finals are coming up. *kicks finals* But after that, there'll definitely be more, I promise!

~*~ A Tribute to John Steinbeck ~*~

While Sakura was giving Naruto his "makeover," Sasuke was out in the woods, venting some steam.

"Damn him," he muttered to himself as he beat the sap out of an innocent tree. "Damn him and his stupid party tricks."

He paused for a moment and glared at the tree. Then he redoubled his efforts.

"Damn his hyperness--" he continued to mutter, punctuating each syllable with a chakra-powered punch or kick, "--and his loud mouth, and his stupid grin, and his hair, and his whiskers--"

As he mutilated the defenseless sapling, images flashed through his mind: fighting against Naruto, alongside him, watching him fight Sakura, the few times they'd had to bathe together, his smile when he was genuinely happy...

And now, Naruto's arms crossed over his chest, accentuating his new cleavage. His orange shirt hugging his new, socially-acceptable curves. The few inches of smooth belly the shirt had ridden up to reveal. Naruto's face as Sakura had essentially groped him. He imagined Naruto hopping along on top of the village rooftops to his house for a change of clothes, completely naked.

Sasuke's flurried attacks slowed, then stopped. He stared at the tree, noting that he had stripped a large section of the trunk of bark, leaving it bare.

Bare like his heart now was. He leaned his forehead against the smooth wood, punching at it without energy. The action brought his weariness to his attention; weariness of the body, weariness of the soul. He was so tired of it. Tired of it all. Tired of revenge, tired of being cold and distant, tired of hiding how much he truly liked his fellow Chuunin, some more than others... He slid to the ground, exhausted and sore.

And then, it rained.

~*~ To Be Continued ~*~