Disclaimer: Naruto is the property of Masashi Kishimoto, etc. Borrowing for the purposes of entertainment, procrastination, and basically, escapism.

Warning: Possible spoilers. I read up to Ch 198 of the manga when I wrote this part. It's pretty safe, if you've read up to that. Spoilers are actually hard to detect, if you think about it. ;;

Chapter 1: As Necessary

Flooded moonlight caused the packed earth to seem coated with silver, in some areas even appearing to be extensively etched with intricate designs and black soldering. These shadows changed often, though subtly, as the wind blew lightly to rock the trees that concealed the Hidden Village of the Leaf. Barely discernable were the out of place movements among the claw-like projections, and few men would suspect anyone else but the night breeze of causing these disturbances. Sakura was after all a chuunin; stealth and speed was the very nature of the ninja.

A stray cloud passed briefly to gouge the single eye in the sky, and it was in that moment she slipped through the deepened shadows to stand unseen under a window she had stood under in countless times before. Always, before she entered that house, she set aside a moment of stillness at the threshold, as if to ask leave of entry from inhabitants long dead, as if to ask pardon for intruding upon that veritable ghost town. Yet it was also a gesture of defiance; there was a soul inside that still had life, and she was determined to keep that one from the glib clutches of the other world, so long as his body still abided in that of the living. Starting today, however, that gesture, which had merely been a preliminary in the past, would become the bulk of her periodic pilgrimage.

She sighed. It was bound to happen. She thought she had accepted that.

Team seven was bound together by camaraderie, trust, and a fierce sort of love that was casual, heartwarming, or occasionally so intense that it was frightening. Each member had a unique, deep relationship with the other, on top of the overall team dynamics. She wasn't precisely discontented with her particular one-on-one relationship with Sasuke, but she couldn't help but wish for more. Such was the nature of these kinds of things. Such was the nature of the human heart.

Space and time she did her best to give, of course. The sole survivor of the Uchiha clan had to live with the darkness in his soul. There are aspects of himself he needed to rediscover or heal alone, parts of him that were destroyed by his brother when he massacred their family----memories and notions of vengeance that plagued Sasuke for years----or parts that were simply never given a chance to bloom for fear of or due to trauma. Sakura didn't have the heart to just grab his, scarred and ill-used, into her ignorant hands.

She had been happy with the close, tentative distance he allowed her, contented with what he let her share. In time, her obsession turned to patient adoration; an object of obsession is what it is: an object. The static, flat-image of her childhood crush, a mere character seen daily in school and admired, naturally evolved to a breathing, dynamic person at constant, close contact, one who made it clear he didn't want to be sequestered atop a pedestal. The fatuous reliance on his attention and approval diminished over years, replaced by the need to care----a process that inevitably occurred as she and Naruto teamed up to coax (and sometimes bully) the withdrawn Sasuke into relying on his team during the course of his life in general, and not only during missions. She was almost willing to wait for forever that way----wait for what? At 24, she was more preoccupied with being young and being a kunoichi, rather than being in love.

That changed when Sasuke confronted her. Or who ever it was who did the confronting.

Tomorrow morning, two basic 4-man teams, including Sasuke, were going to depart for a Class-S mission in a small neighboring country sometimes referred to as the Southern Crack. She was concerned for him, more so than she usually was whenever any of her friends left for high-rank missions, because this was the first assassination he'd be involved in since dueling with his brother to the death five or six years ago. Even if he wasn't psychologically ready, Sasuke would accept such a mission; that was the shinobi way. But it wasn't only that. In many ways, the mission was a suicidal one. This was hinted at during the actual assignment.

Two years ago, the said country was seized by a military dictator. Various factions have been rebelling since then with little success. Lately, there had been discontent among the warlord's cronies, and rebel activity had began to escalate again----under one banner. The general mobilization of the country's armed forces severely interfered with world trade. Many were also concerned with the dictator's ambitions in the near future concerning the country's neighbors. There were even rumors of a hidden ninja village already in existent in the icy cliffs of the far south and that they were the ones who precipitated and magnified what started out as rumors of violent rebel activities to give ground to the suspicious militarization of the country when its troubles started years ago.

Officially, the Fire country was making no move to support either factions. Court politics, however, was churning with expected debate. All the while, the leaders of the Konohagakure were silently appraising the situation. Political expediency made them accept the top secret request of the rebel faction, despite the Fire country's neutral position. Assassinating the dictator swiftly would have the growing preparations for world domination twitching in the dust on its way to death, and those who have lived in terror under its shadow would be relinquished–--or plunged into utter chaos. As it was, there were disagreements on whether the village should expend lives on such uncertain operations, and many were convinced that the plots of invasion would not seriously threaten the might of Fire country. Declining such a request was out of the question, as such was a sign of weakness and therefore a blight in the security of the village still recovering from the ravages of the outlaw Orochimaru and the gang of S-level criminals Akatsuki.

Thus, it was hinted that the mission was voluntary—and highly classified. In the end, the ANBU was officially kept out of it. Qualified jounin were summoned in secret, but those who disapprove of the cause were expected not to answer.

Sakura knew only two among those who reported to the Godaime Hokage at dawn yesterday.

Sasuke wasn't even invited. He went there to replace another man who answered the summons. In fact, he demanded that he be allowed to do so, providing compelling arguments until Tsunade finally agreed. Both Sakura and Uzumaki Naruto knew about this because they were part of succeeding operations meant to "tidy up" after the assassination was carried out. Naruto expressed passing envy, complaining about not having thought of Sasuke's tactic in getting the high-profile assignment, but was interrupted by an impromptu body guard assignment---for which he left that same afternoon--- when a high-born lady sought refuge in the village following a harrowing attempt on her life. Sakura had no such distractions, however, and her sputtering anger over Sasuke's nonchalant disregard of his safety threatened to erupt several times that day.

When he accosted her the previous evening (reasons as to why were never fully revealed in the course of their following conversation), she demanded for explanations with uncharacteristic vehemence (at least, towards Sasuke). She allowed her inner self full vocal privileges.

"What the hell was that about?" she hissed. "Is it true you harassed the Hokage to replace--"

"Why bother asking when you already know?" he interrupted her coolly.

"But why?" It was almost a scream.

A single dark eyebrow climbed. "I thought you would have heard about that part, too."

"It's not him who's pregnant!"

Sasuke shrugged. "Immediacy. I perceived his need to attend to domestic matters. I merely used my interpersonal skills to further cement a social bond."

She had lectured him once, and only once, about interpersonal skills and social bonds, and never did again because of his infuriating habit of throwing bits of the sermon at her teeth like that whenever he got the chance. To calm herself, she took several deep breaths. "Hokage-sama had her reasons why she didn't choose you for the mission," she said. "It's strategically determined, not a personal insult. You know that."

"Obviously, it had been due to oversight. My presence offers certain gains that offset the loss of his powerful offensive value. If it wasn't like that, she wouldn't have given it to me."

"What are you trying to prove this time, anyway?"

The question was blunt; she made no pretense that it wasn't. His answer was the dangerous glint of his eyes in his otherwise impassive face. She ignored that.

"I have eyes, you know, and ears and so on," she said quietly. "I've seen how you like this kind of missions, the kind where you have fifty-fifty chances of not returning." Her voice trembled slightly. "This better not be some bullshit about pitting yourself against the strongest, against the worst situation..."

"What's the point?" came the infuriatingly icy return.

"It doesn't make any sense."

"Are you asking me if I'm following my brother's footsteps?"

"I-I don't quite follow you," she faltered.

"Hurling myself against the world to see just how strong I am."

"Are you?"

"Am I?"

Her jaw hardened. "I wouldn't know the answer. And with that man, I think it was a cry for help nobody knew how to answer."

"Death was his answer."

"Is that yours as well?"

"What makes you think I'm asking the same question as he was?"

The conversation wasn't going anywhere. She was too angry to think through his riddles, and even then, she couldn't assess the appropriateness of her anger to be confident enough to pit her will against his. What right had she to judge him so, anyway? She was about to leave then, to give up. But then, Sasuke's sigh stilled her steps. Sakura hesitated and she turned back to face him.

"There are debts between the us," he explained seriously. "I won't let him orphan his children or widow his wife."

Silence.

When Sakura finally spoke, her voice had an almost self-mocking overtone. "But me... I don't count like that, huh? Or Naruto----he does care, you know. Leaving us is okay, since were not really married to you or something, right?"

His coldest reply yet came then. "You're annoying, but I hardly expected to hear something like that from you."

"You're right," she said shortly, hanging her head. "I'm sorry; that was petty of me. What I really want to know is, why are you so keen on dying? The way you explained it to Tsunade-sama... It seemed like you think you're less worthy to live than Chouji, that you have less reason to."

Sasuke said nothing.

"Ne, Sasuke-kun," she spoke haltingly after a few silent moments. "I wonder if I provide even a little... a reason for you...?"

More moments of stillness passed before Sasuke noiselessly approached her. He took her by both shoulders carefully and nudged her to look into his impervious eyes.

"I can't give you what you want," he told her simply.

The pain was worse than she imagined it would be, but she thought she bore it quite well. Even though she never expected him to ever tell her directly to stop pursuing him (his declining her offers of dates when they were still kids didn't count), she wasn't really surprised by the succinctly packaged rejection. And so Sakura smiled at him softly, sadly.

"I know," she replied. "I know..."

She hadn't really seen him since then (which is about 30 hours ago). He was probably busy with meetings concerning the mission tomorrow. Most likely, he'd be already asleep at this hour. With a sigh, Sakura bid her friend good luck under her breath and turned to go.

"Walked all this way to stare at my wall?"

Past the melancholy she was snugly swaddled in, Sakura groaned inwardly. No, she wasn't counting on the fact that the Sharingan user wouldn't detect her had he wanted, but she wasn't exactly menacing, was she? She shouldn't have alarmed enough a sleeping genius to actually check out what could have been only a passerby. Of course, in the empty Uchiha property, incidental pedestrians were rare. All the same, Sakura didn't think he'd actually confront her again after their exchange yesterday.

"You're late," he said, jumping down from the very tree that cast the shadows that concealed her.

"Oh?" Sakura struggled to make her tone light. "I didn't know we had a rendezvous."

Sasuke snorted. "You always come the night before I leave for missions. I met you yesterday to get it out of the way, but I forgot to get to it then."

"That was mostly my fault," murmured she, abashed.

He neither affirmed nor denied her words. With a slight jerk of his head, he motioned for her to follow. A couple of leaps had him on the veranda of the third floor. Sakura trailed him and was led through the open window of his bedroom.

"I've closed the area downstairs," he said by way of explanation, leading the way out of the dark room and into the adjoining makeshift sitting room set aside for his usual visitors. Motioning for her to sit, he walked on to grab some bottles from the refrigerator and flicked a light switch en route. He took a lemon, squeezed it into two tall glasses, poured a shot of gin in each, and liberally filled both with iced tea. This was something he learned from Hatake Kakashi, their old sensei from their genin days.

One sweltering evening on the summer before the first member of Team 7 turned twenty---which happened to be her----their sleepy-eyed sensei had them over at his bigger, better, brand-new condo unit---a product of better days and weeks of lobbying for a general salary raise. Their little reunion was interrupted by Gai, who accused Kakashi of weaseling out of a scheduled duel ("I lost the memo while fishing on the sea of memories," he reasoned), and they all ended up running one hundred laps when Kakashi threw them in with the bet and lost thrice in a row in thumb wrestling. Anyhow, they were hot, sweaty, and irritated, so their sensei mollified them with generous libations of lemon iced tea; he only remembered about the gin part when he found himself straddled with a Naruto singing cheesy love songs, a Sasuke talking continuously for one straight quarter of an hour about what he thought of the Icha Icha Violence they stole as kids and about sadomasochism in general, and a Sakura giggling and crying at the same time about becoming the perennial bridesmaid of her generation. Curiously, Sasuke acquired the taste for it and regularly served the drink whenever Sakura or Naruto came over to his place.

Anyhow, Sasuke finished quickly, cleaned up his materials, and turned off the kitchen lights. The dim incandescent lamp on a side table was the sole light source left, but this didn't bother Sakura, who was used to this set up. (Naruto once theorized that his rival was actually an underground environmental activist who wanted to conserve electricity.) Sasuke handed her his preparation, and they sat in silence sipping their drinks.

"Would it comfort you," he suddenly spoke. "If I tell you Nara Shikamaru doesn't think the mission is as dangerous as everybody projects?"

The sudden reassurance caught her off-guard. Sakura tried to joke to gloss over the sharp, grieving pang in her chest. "Ordinarily, no," she said. "That bum is too good at running away, so his views are a bit biased to his skills. Nowadays? Still no. His genius brain is addled by Ino's demands. Isn't it weird that he got the placenta brain and not her?"

"..."

Sakura sighed. "Was I that pathetic yesterday?"she said, her tone now more relaxed .

"Aa."

"The question was rhetorical." That one was slightly offended.

"Aa," Sasuke said in the same tone.

There was another long pause wherein they sipped their drinks, lost in thought. Then, Sasuke spoke again.

"Yesterday," he said. "You asked me several things; I didn't really know the answers to them."

Sakura's new-found serenity, which was unexpectedly precipitated by Sasuke's hospitality, plummeted to the earth like a dead bird. The dull pain was back again, not just as a momentary jab, but as a lingering ache. The fear and anxiety over his safety returned as well.

"It makes sense, you know. That what Chouji has... and Shikamaru do... that I'd know their worth. Understand? I don't have it. What one lacks, one sees in others."

"But you can change that," she whispered. "That emptiness."

"No. And I am not willing to pay the price they had to---or will," he continued, his voice dying down to the same volume as hers. "Do you realize what kind of power they have handed over to fate?"

Sakura bit her lip to keep in a low cry that choked up her throat. She understood now; she knew where he was leading. He would exhaust that issue with her, that which started yesterday. He would keep at it till he's totally sure she could see his point. But why bother? Why torture her so? She decided she didn't want to discuss it anymore. It hit too close to matters of the heart. And she didn't want her heart to be so vulnerable that way. To be so naked, so stripped... she couldn't bear that. The aversion was so strong that she felt herself swimming in nausea.

But she swallowed that aversion bravely. As always.

"You don't really have to explain your actions to me, you know," she said gently.

"I am compelled."

"To tell me? You have no obligation to do that." She moved closer to touch his arm.

"No. To them, to him I do."

"Chouji doesn't think so."

"I do."

"It's not your fault Orochimaru---"

"I thought we already wore that issue to pieces years ago."

A pause. "I think I understand," she then said.

"But you still hurt."

"I'm still scared," she corrected evasively. "I'm not belittling you or your teammates, Sasu, and Shikamaru's a brilliant tactician. But tomorrow..."

"Death is inevitable, and violent ends are common in our life style."

Sakura shook her head. "It doesn't commonly come with this kind of certainty."

Sighing, she leaned against him. No change passed on his countenance as she did, and the momentary tension of a suppressed flinch in his muscles slowly disappeared. He wavered, it seemed, thinking about pulling away, before slipping into relaxation.

"That's right," she murmured, staring at the shadows. "Be kind to me. Do you realize? This will be the last time I'd be near you like this."

"..."

The dim incandescent light made his expression undecipherable.

"It's possible," he answered shortly.

"You wouldn't mind then?"

"What?"

"I want to ask you a favor."

"Aa.."

"Will you hold me? Just this once? Please?"

"Sakura..." The anguish in his voice tore at her, but Sakura bit her lip to keep from retracting her request.

"For the last time?"

Sasuke didn't answer.

"I will do it if you can't." She tried for a last time. "Just a hug."

"You mawkishly would stick to this. Che." There was an odd neutrality to his voice. "Hurry up and get it over with."

Nervously, Sakura appraised the almost defensive position of the man sitting beside her. She could barely see his shadowy countenance---which could be a good thing---so she shut her eyes tight and reached for him. Forever seemed to pass as she waited for her outstretched arms to make contact with his flesh. For one irrational moment, she suspected that he had drawn away from her at the last moment, and imagined Naruto laughing at her for bothering to ask permission in the first place.

Suddenly, she was off her feet, and he was there, around her, all over her. Stiff and awkward, as if embracing a barrel of explosives, he clasped her to him. Another eternity tiptoed by as she lay sprawled atop his wiry, sculpted body, his hard, tensed-up, but warm flesh....

Then she remembered to breathe. Against his chest she expelled the air she held, feeling the warmth as it spread on the fabric of his shirt and on her face. Tentatively, she tightened her hold around him, too, not quite knowing what else to do.

His rigidity melted off him like a cloak. The wild gallop of her heart took a little more time to calm to a steady, heady thrum to join the decelerating rhythm of his. Then there was just him, and his warmth, and his willingness to share that tiny space... his acceptance... his silence.

Lingering on the verge of sleep, Sakura was roused from tranquil uncaring when he took her by the shoulders and gently, but firmly, pulled her from him. A wistful, quiet ache replaced the heady bliss, and it was a pair of bleary, bright, green eyes that gazed back at his unreadable dark, dark brown.

"Now, Sasuke, you must be careful," she whispered peremptorily. "Promise me you would, and then I'd say goodb--"

Her eyes grew as round as saucers, and the tears that teetered on the verge of falling finally did so. Who was he to do this to her? How dared he! His kiss interrupted her so rudely, just when she was about to deliver the most crucial message, the hardest one to say to him. But there was nothing she could do about that. A jounin like him was stronger than a chuunin like her. No matter how hard she worked, how much she sacrificed, she would never beat him, never even become at par with his level.

It was unfair, but she never did stop fighting. Even then, why should she stop all? What he could do, she could.

When he began to pull away, her lithe arms held him still with surprising strength. She returned his lingering kiss with all her indignation, all her fury, all her heart.

Sasuke sighed even as his lips were locked with hers.

The kiss deepened and so did the night.

draft finished: 22:06 021204

To be continued...

Comments, questions, etc are welcome.

Next chapter's tentative release: 090504