The Sound-nin scrambled desperately through the woods, his speed blinding and headlong in his desperate rush. His fellow shinobis had been torn limb from limb, shredded to bits without remorse. To make matters worse, there weren't enough left to tell how thorough any inflicted damage before death had been, so they must have been partially eaten. How anything could have been that strong to do that to two of Orochimaru's strongest fighters was a concept that hurt to consider. To complicate matters was that boy, the vessel of the nine-tailed fox. In the Sound-nin's mind, the only creature that was strong and bloodthirsty enough had to have been the nine-tailed fox. The timing was there, the insanity fit into the picture, and a person would wear only their boxers if they shed blood-covered clothes.

What bothered the Sound-nin was he hadn't noticed any blood under Naruto's fingernails or face. If the boy was so far gone in his madness, how could he take the time to clean the evidence off? If he did, he should have gotten clean clothes on rather than run amuck in his underwear.

But the two instances had to be connected. He felt it in his bones and his brother agreed with him. There were no coincidences in life; the strings brought everything together as subtle connections that influenced future events.

Already pushing fast enough to blur and barely touching the branches he launched himself from, the Sound-nin's reckless pace increased ever so slightly.


Sakura dashed into Naruto's little apartment with break-necking speeds. She slammed the door shut behind her and leaned heavily against it, gasping desperately for breath as she placed a hand over her heaving chest. She had been spotted by a dozen people no less, and the first had been Sasuke-kun! She touched a hand to her face, felt how warm her skin was and knew her face wasn't red due completely to exertion. M-chan jumped from the brim of her hat and scurried across the wooden floor in search of the sort of things that stuffed monkeys tended to search for.

Sakura yanked the hat from her head and peeled the ridiculous shirt off. She kicked the shorts free, and the sandals flew from her feet with two more vicious kicks. Clad once more in only her boxers, she hurried to Naruto's room and began rummaging through his things. Orange jumper. Orange jumper. Orange jumper. Oh look, how shocking — another orange jumper! Sakura put her hands on her hips and surveyed the clothes. All were slightly baggy and just a little too big to fit properly. She looked upwards, as if to ask some Greater Being why. Konoha Orphan Fund, she thought to herself in explanation. It allowed Naruto just enough of a stipend to get by on cheap food bought in bulk, and the clothes looked like they came from a factory closeout. It would explain why they were slightly too big and why he had so many. At least it was better to be oversized than undersized; Naruto's clothes would fit until he hit a growth spurt.

Still, anything was better than her father's clothes. Sakura made a face just thinking of how much courage it took to wear them through the streets, even as another person. She reluctantly dressed in an orange jumper that smelled relatively clean (Mental note to self, Sakura thought, must do a load of laundry. There was no way she was going to live two more days in Naruto's little flat without doing something; years of living in a house where dirtiness was fought with a vigor that would have put the ANBU on their missions to shame had left a deep influence on Sakura), and then hurriedly gathered the dirty clothes into a misshapen pile in the far corner of the room. A small, frog-like purse tumbled out of a stray armload. She absently picked it up and stuck it in her pocket as she kicked a few stray socks into the pile. With that fulfilled, Sakura, hitching up the bottom half of her jumper with a purposeful frown, marched off to the attic for more searching.

When M-chan realized she was being left behind, she scurried after Papa.


Asuma landed before the front door. He paused long enough to put out and tuck his cigarette out of sight. Prior experience with Mother Haruna indicated that she would take the cigarette from him while wearing latex gloves, flush the cigarette down the toilet, and then fumigate both house and visitor with Lysol. It was a traumatizing experience that he was still trying to forget.

He knocked once on the door, and then allowed himself into the house when no one answered. As he closed the door behind himself and stooped to remove his sandals, Ino poked her head around a corner. "Asuma-sensei," she said brightly, "Sakura and I nearly have breakfast ready if you care to have some."

That sounded promisingly edible. "Ah. What are we having?" he asked as he kicked off his sandals beside the door and then trod through the hallway. It never failed to amaze him how he could clearly see his own reflection in the hardwood floor. Since both Harunas worked as housecleaners, it always amazed him how much energy they had left over to clean their own house so thoroughly.

Then he made it into the kitchen.

The change from sparkly clean to a disaster zone of dirty pots and pans, flour everywhere, scattered dishes, and slopped dough was a shock to Asuma. He felt an odd sense of displacement, as if the Universe was spinning out of place or reality was disoriented. He had to lean against the wall for support as his mind stuttered to a shocked halt. This . . . This did not fit into his scheme of reality! Denial! His brain screamed. Pretend you are elsewhere!

"Here!" Their faces were stretched with the proudest smiles he had ever seen, Ino and Sakura, both white from head to toe (although, for Sakura, that might have more to do with her uncharacteristic outfit than anything else) as if they had attacked one another with bags of flour. They promptly handed him a plate piled high with waffles and watched him warily. Asuma was beginning to feel as if he'd been had. He prodded the waffles with his chopstick — no, not rubbery or undercooked. They looked a lovely golden brown with a crisp outside. He sniffed; nothing out of the ordinary.

"Ah," he said, because he couldn't think of how to tactfully say he decided to trust their cooking. He carefully made his way around the various strewn pots and pans, the larger piles of flour, and the sticky spots where dough had been spilt, to the kitchen table that was only lightly covered with flour and cooking utensils. He scrutinized it carefully — look at that! Some part of the table was actually (fairly) clean! He swept the seat of one chair clean with his hand before seating himself.

"Where's the syrup?" Ino asked Sakura.

Sakura shrugged. "Dunno," she said.

"You live here! How can you not know?"

Sakura looked surprised for a moment, frowned thoughtfully a moment more, and then said, "You think my parents trust me to be in their kitchen long enough to find out where syrup is kept?"

Ino put her hands on her hips. "Do you really want me to answer that?" she asked darkly. She flicked a finger against Sakura's forehead and smudged the flour there.

"I don't need syrup," Asuma said assuredly. The girls stopped arguing and looked at him in surprise. He swiftly cut the waffles into bite-sized pieces and confidently took a bite. He chewed; his eyes watered up. Check that, he thought desperately as he felt steam starting to leak from his ears, Syrup — I need lots of syrup! Trying desperately not to make a face (and not really succeeding), Asuma barely managed to gulp down the mouthful. He smiled apologetically to the girls, and stood up. "I just remembered another engagement," he said hurriedly. "Ah, yes, your mission. I'll give you the details, and then I must be off."

The girls glanced with some uncertainty to the waffles, but before they could ask any questions, Asuma hurried on. "Due to the increased tension and worry for attacks, the Postal Service has decided to hire the help of some experienced ninjas." Unfortunately, you two are just about all we have, he thought. "As a C class mission, your one responsibility is to accompany the Postal Service worker on his delivery to Kikorrin. You are not expected to fight; it is hoped that by having extra manpower and the assurance of experienced fighters that the Postal Service worker feel more confident in himself. Should a fight occur, it is your prerogative to see that the mail is delivered. Fight only if you absolutely must; escape must be your first option. We ordinarily would not give a C rank mission to you two, but Kakashi believes that you," he looked at Sakura, "can handle this calmly, rationally, and to the best of your abilities and I know can trust you, Ino," he said as he looked at her. "I do not know yet who the worker is, but you'll meet him at the Post Office."

Asuma looked at the girls with some worry. It hadn't been his idea to stick the two together with a mission, considering how bitter they acted toward each other. The Hokage had insisted though, saying she couldn't afford rivalries in the village, and the two were going to work together or die trying. Asuma hoped it wouldn't come to that extreme. "Do you feel up to this mission?"

Sakura shrugged. It seemed off to Asuma that Sakura should look so disappointed. Surely working with Ino wasn't that bad, and he would have expected anyone to be happy to get out of Konoha, even if they were in such troublesome times. "You shall report to the Postal Office before eight," Asuma said. "I expect you can do this without my help." With that said, he hurried out of the kitchen and out of the Haruna household. He knew of a decent teriyaki stand that was open this early in the day...


Sakura's stomach decided to protest its emptiness by growling loudly and adding a twist of pain just as she passed the teriyaki stand. She froze in mid-step and winced, hugging her stomach and trying to remember the last time she had had anything to eat. At least it wasn't ramen, she figured as she looked over the stand. With a sigh, she rummaged through her pockets, found Naruto's purse, and weighed its contents expertly in her hand. Hmmm. There was more than enough there to cover a small bowl of chicken teriyaki. Naruto must have received his stipend not too long ago, or perhaps he had saved from the last few missions. Sakura walked over to the stand and seated herself. She glanced critically over the menu and added a small glass of ice water to her original order when asked if she wanted anything to drink.

Sakura found herself comfortably falling into her old habits. Without realizing it, she had crossed her ankles ladylike despite being too short for her feet to touch the ground from where she was seated, folded her napkin demurely on her lap, and laid her chopsticks delicately across her mat. She sighed and closed her eyes, listening to the sounds of bustling, the waking people beginning to pass her on the street, the cooking food, Asuma-sensei sitting down beside her and wishing her a good morning—

Uh oh.

"H-hi," Sakura said nervously as the Jounin folded his arms on the countertop and squinted at the menu posted above the grill. "Fancy meeting you here."

Asuma nodded his head in absent-minded agreement. "I know. Came here looking for something edible, since the waffles Sakura and Ino offered left much to be desired. You'd think that with two girls who successfully completed their special course in undercover, traditional female menial labor could actually cook."

Inner Sakura popped up out of nowhere, the nine-tailed fox as absent as she had been before Asuma's comment. "Screw you, you misogynist pig!" she yelled in Sakura's mind, thankfully unheard by the rest of the world. "And I can too cook!" They heard the kyuubi snorted derisively at that, but wisely remained silent afterwards.

Clearly, discretion was the better part of valor, here. Sakura watched Asuma from the corner of her eye. There was a relaxed air about him that, despite being laidback, still held a shadow of seriousness. The man worked with three very difficult children who had nothing in common with one another, and somehow managed to forge them into a cohesive team; he had to have some marginal intelligence and quite a bit of talent, and Sakura was suddenly filled with the need to pull him aside and confide all her problems in him. She didn't look forward to searching the attic, and she had an itch on her leg where M-chan clung. She wanted to break the plans she had made with Naruto — and why not? It wasn't as if she specifically said, I promise.

Still, Naruto trusted her to stick it out for these two remaining days, and Asuma looked relaxed, puffing languidly on his lit cigarette. He looked as if he had temporarily removed himself from stress and worries and was enjoying it immensely. She couldn't bother him with her problems. Sakura's hands twisted her white napkin. She couldn't disturb this fragile peace he basked in.

Asuma glanced sideways and noticed Sakura's tension. "Is something the matter?" he asked.

She jumped, startled. "Ah, n-no!" She laughed, the tips of her fingers pressed lightly against her lips. "No! Nothing is wrong! Wh-why would you say that?"

"You aren't acting like yourself."

Sakura froze in horror. The server set the small bowl of food before her, and she swiftly turned to it, grabbing the chopsticks and splitting them sloppily. "Heh. Oh boy!" she cried in false happiness. "Teriyaki! It's not ramen but it'll do!" She noisily gulped down a mouthful and glanced sideways to see if she had somehow managed to put Asuma's fears to rest. He was leaning on one elbow and holding his cigarette lightly between two fingers.

"You're trying too hard," he said knowingly, giving her an expression of, I know you're up to something, and the food suddenly became tasteless in her mouth. No longer hungry, Sakura pushed her bowl to the side and stared at the tabletop, fighting down the urge to throw her arms around Asuma, bury her head against his shoulders, and sob her heart out.

This was stupid. She couldn't hold up this charade; Naruto couldn't hold up the charade. Why did she agree to those two days again? She turned to Asuma, who placed his order, and opened her mouth to explain the entire story, but something stopped her. Perhaps it was the flashing memory of Naruto resolutely holding up three fingers; perhaps it was the sinister snicker that tickled her mind. Whatever it was, she stopped, and then smiled wanly at Asuma. "I'll be all right," she said. "It's just one of those times."

"Really?"

A brainstorm struck. "Yeah. You know how it is, I mean, we're guys, so I can say this openly, right?" Sakura looked around; no one passing seemed to be interested in them, and the cook was whistling merrily as he concentrated on his tasks. "You know, this whole thing about puberty is really, um..." She blushed, despite of herself.

Inner Sakura poked her awareness. "Are you trying to say what I think you're trying to say?" she asked Sakura in disbelief. She suddenly flashed the victory sign. "SCORE!" Shut up! Sakura pushed her Inner self out of the big picture and tried to ignore the resentful grumbling that took place in the background of her thoughts and the dark, amused chuckling from a different source.

Asuma cleared his throat. "Ah, yes, trying times, trying times," he said knowingly with a nod of his head and a flashing look of relief. "Just from personal experience along, I know how difficult it can be." Sakura hunched her shoulders forward and hoped he wouldn't go into any embarrassing anecdotes. "But it's not going to be easier for you, and probably less so when you haven't any parents." He gave Sakura a concerned look, and then reached his hand out and settled it on her shoulder, in a comradely guy-to-guy manner. "If you ever need to know about anything or just need someone to talk to — especially another guy — I'm here for you."

Sakura gave him a smile of relief. "Thank you," she said honestly, although if she told him anything it certainly wouldn't involve puberty.

The cook put a bowl before Asuma, who turned from Sakura and grabbed his chopsticks. "Although," he said hurriedly, the words rushing headlong as if he had seen an escape up ahead and it was close to outrunning him, "although such matters may be better discussed with Jiraiya-sensei. He's more experienced in such matters as, um, that."

Sakura hoped it wouldn't come to that. While she had never personally met Jiraiya, the things she had heard from Naruto (peeking in the women's bath? Honestly!) was enough for her to suspect Jiraiya hadn't completed his own transition through puberty. She looked down at her bowl of chicken teriyaki and mechanically finished eating. She and Asuma ate in silence, but she finished before he did. "I have to finish yesterday's mission," she said, bouncing off her stool. She tried to ignore the persisting itch where M-chan clung. Asuma looked up from his meal.

"Are you not finished with it?" he asked.

"S-still have to put some equipment away, like brooms," Sakura said. "We stopped when it got too dark, and I also wanted to make sure that it looked as clean in the light as it did last night after the sun set." She held her breath; the last thing she needed was Asuma coming along to check her work, although she didn't know why he would. When he went back to eating his teriyaki, Sakura made her escape, bouncing to the roofs of the surrounding buildings and moving toward the east where the attic was.

She practically flew over the rooftops. It was surprising how little effort she needed to actually move, how much stronger Naruto's body was than her own.

It made her feel strangely inadequate. Here she was, one of the two smartest ninjas to graduate this year from the academy (she wasn't sure where to place Shikamaru since, all things considering, he certainly lacked what motivation she had), and she was hard-put to keep pace with someone who flunked three times before he actually graduated.

What had she been doing, all those years, by mooning after... Well, she wouldn't follow that line of thought when she couldn't even cook! Well, she could, sort of, if it came in a package and the only requirements were adding water and/or heating.

With a sigh, Sakura hurried onward.


First impressions are often the most influential, and so far, Ino's first impression of the Postal Service worker wasn't a very good one. In her opinion, he was a balding, rotund little man with too much stomach and mustache, but not enough spine. In the time she and Sakura had been with him, he had dismissed Ino as a dumb blonde, demanded to know how someone as flaky as Sakura was going to protect him, thought this entire delivery wasn't worth his pension, and why again was everyone so sure that two little brats could possibly be enough to protect him?

Protect him from who? Ino thought scornfully. Us?

Since they were trying to protect the man, Ino and Sakura both refrained from giving him a solid kick or three. Instead, the two gritted their teeth in what a half-blind eighty-year-old, toothless woman would have politely called a smile. Sakura had been in a poor mood, although Ino could hardly see how that was different from other times, but she was acting odd. That is to say, while Ino had always known Sakura was a little off whenever she PMSed, this was off the wall. Of course, given Sakura's track record since the Chunin exam and that really odd entity that had literally tossed out Ino, Ino supposed she shouldn't be surprised.

"Can't we just leave him tied to a tree and deliver the mail ourselves?" Sakura asked behind her hand as she shot the postal worker a shifty look when his attention diverted elsewhere. There was something completely uncharacteristic about the way she walked with her feet turned inward, the way she held her head and angled her shoulders. It was almost as if she and Naruto had switched places, but Henge was out of the question. (Just to be sure, Ino had "accidentally" whacked Sakura several times during their waffles-making episode, but never once did Sakura's appearance change. Ino knew Sakura didn't have the stamina to hold Henge through multiple physical attacks. They'd also been together since early morning and Ino didn't know of anyone not Jounin level who could maintain Henge for great periods of time.)

They walked together down the road, the Postal worker lurking between them and sending fugitive glances at his surroundings. Ino and Sakura were quiet for a time, neither willing to break the heavy silence that loomed over them like an ominous thunderhead. Still, Ino was the first to break the silence.

"Why are you dressed all in white?"

" 'Cause it beat pink," Sakura replied somewhat absent-mindedly.

"Oooh?" Ino thought this was a curious point, since Sakura decided that pink was a good, feminine color that would attract Sasuke's attention.

"It's the only non-pink that I had," Sakura said, finally becoming more aware of Ino. She gave Ino a strange look, almost as if to ask why it was a shock that she should be wearing something that lacked a black bull's eye.

"Don't you have anything else?"

"Besides underwear?"

Ino hissed and jerked her head toward the Postal worker. His name was unknown to the two of Genins, since both were determined to forget about him as soon as their mission was completed. Sakura looked away, and Ino clapped her hands cheerfully. "We should go shopping!" she declared happily. "It'll cheer you up and provide you with clothes that aren't pink!"

Sakura looked suspicious. Well, that was nothing new. "Why?" she asked carefully, edging slightly away as Ino grinned manically.

Ino wagged a finger. "I've been thinking," she said ("Uhoh!" declared the Postal worker, "blonde thinking alert!" to which Ino considered several miserable and painful ways to kill him, but discarded all simply because they couldn't possibly convey her irritation with the silly little man), "of how we lost touch, of how nice it would be to do something together."

"Eh?" One of Sakura's eyebrows arched upward in disbelief.

"Why should this be so difficult for you to understand?" Ino demanded impatiently.

The Postal worker snorted. "Look, I'm not paying to have you two to girl-bond on duty."

Rather than acting affronted, Ino chose to laugh at Sakura's puzzled expression. "That's it!" she crowed triumphantly. "Girl-bonding! We haven't done it since, oh, we were yaaay high," she waved her hand somewhere in the vicinity of her knees, "and we had finished our flower arrangement classes."

Sakura's eyes were wide. Poor dear must have been shocked at Ino's open display at friendship. She ought to do this more often if Sakura proved to be this surprised at the idea of girl-bonding. (This, of course, was ignoring the fact that Sakura's expression was more of a deer-caught-in-the-ninjas'-game-of-tag look than it was surprise.)


They were attacked around noon by rabid squirrels. "Happens all the time around here," said the Postal worker conversationally as he stood off to the side of the road where not a single living creature would approach him while he smoked a gigantic, evil-smelling cigar. "Feed one little bugger and refuse to do it again so the whole lot attacks you," he added. "But don't worry – at least the wild geese aren't located on this run." He dodged one flung squirrel as Naruto screamed in fury and threw them left and right as soon as they fell on him. Ino was situated behind the Postal worker. She had said somebody needed to watch his back, but Naruto secretly suspected Ino was hiding in the ill-smelling safety of the cigar smoke.

Huffing, puffing, red in the face, Naruto tried to perform his Kagebunshin without Ino noticing, but he still couldn't summon Sakura's chakra. He finally resorted to stepping on those misfortunate enough to get under his feet.

They made satisfying crunches.


Nothing. Sakura carefully checked over her shoulder and tossed the book over it. It landed where it wouldn't upset something. The last time she had carelessly tossed a book had led to being attacked by shadows that she had only managed to get rid of by running into the sunlight that filtered through the window. Other incidences that occurred—-the never ending laughter in one hand mirror when she picked it up (she didn't see what was so funny about her reflection), the chair with the gaping maw that chased her (reminiscent of the trunk), and another stuffed monkey (this one without a tail and its 'fur' a charcoal gray) had attached itself to her and calling her grandfather—were almost enough to make her give up. What about that book Naruto mentioned? she wondered. Perhaps she should be reading that instead of trying to sort through this mess.

With a reluctant sigh, Sakura carefully began to pack everything away. She ducked another shadow that tried to grab her about the shoulders, ruthlessly beat off the flying carpet from her and Naruto's last attic expedition as it tried to fling itself at her, and methodically began to put everything in its place and cover all with the sheets. It was quicker to pack everything now that she recognized the various levels of danger, and she did so briskly, moving with the grace and efficiency she had acquired from years of following her parents' orders. She moved from one end of the attic to the other, sweeping up dust and scooping it into the thick burlap bag Grandmother Puu had silently handed to her the moment she stepped into the house. (Grandmother Puu hadn't asked any questions, such as where was "Sakura" and why hadn't they finished earlier; Sakura didn't volunteer anything since she hadn't been asked.) As she cleaned and packed, Sakura carefully kept her mind blank of the personal inadequacy that had been nagging her since she ran along the roofs after speaking with Asuma.

Without realizing it, Sakura bumped backwards into the shelf from which the statue that caused the mess had fallen. She whipped around and steadied it with one strong hand. The various knick-knack rocked and swayed, but none fell. She brushed a hand over the edge, wiping away the dust and studying the other artifacts. She wondered if there was a statue that could reverse the effect.

She stopped, her hand freezing in mid-brush, and then slowly turned to stare at the empty, undisturbed dust on the shelf. Her body was rigid as she shook her head slowly, trying to deny what she wasn't seeing.

The remains of the shattered statue were gone.

Sakura tried to process it; she tried to ignore the malicious laughter beginning to rise in the deeper recesses of her mind; she tried not to think of how it was Naruto — always Naruto and always Sasuke — being the strong ones physically and mentally, because she couldn't handle the situation even in Naruto's body. She leaned away from the shelf, stumbled backwards until she tripped over the puzzled purple monkey and landed hard on her backside. "Two days," she said slowly, her voice edging on hysteria. The laughter grew. Sakura dropped the broom she clung to as if it had burned her, and leapt out of the attic through the window in an attempt to outrun the laughter and inadequacy.


"Should we?" Ino asked Naruto as the Postal worker scratched fiercely at his skin, glowering coldly at the two Genin.

Naruto shrugged. "He's the one who ran into the poison ivy to hide, not us."

Ino nodded her head and pumped a fist in the air. "Exactly! So apologizing would be out of the question."

"You brats! I oughta strip right here and now and jump into the river!"

Ino and Naruto shuddered. "That," Ino told Naruto behind one hand, "is a sight we can do without!" The Postal worker huffed, dropped his knapsack of mail from his shoulders, and began to open his buttons one by one. Both Naruto and Ino cringed as the flabby, hairy chest was slowly revealed.

Naruto glowered. "I say we toss him into the river before he has a chance to finish."

Ino nodded sharply. "Right."

They rolled up their sleeves and pounced on the Postal worker before he had finished unbuttoning his uniform. The bag of mail was kicked in one direction (dry land), and the Postal worker was booted in another direction (not-so-dry land).

"YEEEK!" Splash!

"Sakura-chan," Ino said in a friendly manner as she put an arm around Naruto's shoulders and watched the Postal worker flounder in the water, "I think we can consider this a deed done good."

"Don't you mean a good deed done?" Naruto asked as he smoothly shrugged Ino's arm free. Ino grinned and grabbed Naruto's upper arm, steering him over to the shade where they proceeded to sit and wait for the Postal worker to splash his way to shore.

"That depends entirely upon whose point of view you look at."


Sakura numbly made her way through the streets, her arms wrapped around her shoulders. She whimpered quietly, trying to ignore the snarling threats, with all of the gory imagery and accompanying feelings of nausea, of the nine-tailed fox and Inner Sakura screaming at it to be quiet. She tried to ignore the itching at the very tips of her fingers, and the slight stretching of skin across her cheeks.

She tried to ignore the fact that this was only going to be two days.

No. She couldn't handle it. She was too weak; she didn't have the strength of character to last.

The statue was gone.

The statue couldn't be gone.

But it was.

She had voices in her head. This wasn't new, to be sure, but these voices had personalities far too large to fit in her head, let alone get along peacefully.

She and Naruto were in deep . . . well, it was deep.

The statue couldn't be gone! It just couldn't.

Oh, but it was.

Sakura wrestled with her doubts and fears, and didn't see Rock Lee when she passed him.

"Oh! Naruto-kun!"

Sakura hurried on. Rock Lee blinked, puzzled at being ignored. "How rude," he said finally, dejected from such scorn. No one likes the cripple, he thought unhappily. With a sigh, he limped in the opposite direction with his crutches, and Sakura continued on, half-walking and half-running. She ignored most of her surroundings and vaguely took notice of people, but just enough not to walk into them. She barely missed stepping on one little kid as the squirt dashed out onto the street, almost tripping into Sakura.

"Sorry!" the kid called over his shoulder as he dashed through. Another passed Sakura. She stopped and looked wide-eyed in the direction they had come running, just in time to see a mob of children bearing down upon her.

"Eeek!" Sakura jumped the side and scrambled up a light post as the mob surged past, the children tripping and falling over each other to get away. "What's with them?" she asked herself, craning her neck and watching them disappear into the distance. She looked around to see what was chasing them, if any.

Sasuke trailed behind, his hands curled into tight fists at his sides, and his expression dark, angry, and contemplative of something violent yet satisfying. He was muttering something under his breath about sprogs, spawns of ogres, and parents should not breed without having a certain IQ level.

For just one moment, looking at his strength, at his gliding walk, he seemed to be a predator on the prowl. For just one moment, as the voices were drowned in the rising roar of silence in her mind, Sakura was able to disassociate from her current situation. For just one moment, she basked in his strength and abilities, the memories of being protected by him. For just one moment, she gave in to her true nature.

With a happy little squeak, Sakura slid down the post and pounced on Sasuke, her arms sliding around his neck. "Sasuke-kun!"

Sasuke's hair stood on end as Naruto's arms circled his throat. With an indignant yelp, Sasuke broke free of Sakura's hold and scrambled backwards, his eyes filled with shock and his fingers twisting in a sign to ward off evil.

Sakura realized belatedly of what she wasn't supposed to be doing. "Oops. Uh. I mean. Sasuke!" she yelled suddenly, pointing a finger at him while placing her other hand on her hip. "I'll get you one of these days you, you bastard!" Oh shoot. That didn't go over too well. Sasuke was giving her a look of mixed fear and revulsion, and Sakura decided to beat a hasty retreat while she still had some shreds of dignity left (somewhere; she was sure she had some… maybe). Without saying another word, she whipped about on her heel and bolted. Amused laughter, not tinted by viciousness or hatred, rang through her mind. It didn't sound as if it belonged to either the nine-tailed fox or Inner Sakura, yet it made her feel slightly better about her situation.


"Ooooh! This is sooo cute! You have to try this on!" And another bathing suit was tossed on top of Naruto's armload of clothes that Ino was piling on him. At this point, he had given up on being able to see over the material that was tickling his nose. His legs trembled from exertion and he breathed heavily, as if he had run a marathon. Who'd have thought that six hours of shopping fruitlessly for something that he didn't even like (and certainly couldn't afford) could be so tiring? In his old body it wouldn't have been a problem, but Sakura's body didn't have the stamina and strength that he needed. His arms were beginning to become fatigued, and all he wanted to do was sit down and not move.

And his breasts (er, Sakura's) hurt. He hadn't been so much aware of it until he felt the constant pressure of the clothes pressed continuously against his chest. Two days of this? There was no way he was going to survive! (Naruto eyed the frilly, barely-there bikini that Ino had added, and knew exactly what was going to happen if he tried it on and Sakura learned; he had less of a chance surviving that than these remaining two days.)

"This! This is so your color!" Ino held up a silk blouse of evergreen and threw that on top of the pile. It was the camel that broke Naruto's straw back. He collapsed as his strength and stamina were pushed beyond his limits, the clothes falling on top and smothering him under their heavy weight. "Honestly! It's not that bad!" He ignored Ino's sulking complaints as she dug him free of the pile. Dazed, he barely knew that she was leaning him against one stack of stuffed bras. "Are you okay, Sakura?" Ino asked finally with genuine concern. She pressed a hand against Naruto's forehead. "You don't have a temperature."

Naruto shook his head to clear his thoughts. "Weak," he muttered. He held his hands up and looked at them in amazement. Sakura's fingers were long, her hands small and her wrists thin. It was such a delicate body. It lacked strength, stamina, and the pools of chakra he used so freely in his techniques. He suddenly grabbed Ino's hands and compared them with Sakura's. Ino's hands were larger and had calluses where Sakura's had none. Did Sakura realize how much difference it made in fighting to have that little extra bit of strength, that little bit of extra speed? Chakra enhanced it, but if there was nothing to enhance, what was the point of perfect control?

Sakura's body needed help. Sakura needed help, but considering where he was and she was, he was best able to help Sakura by helping her body.

"I gotta go," he said, somehow finding the strength to jump to his feet.

"Why? We don't have to report back for another two hours!"

"No. I gotta train." He hurried around the pile of dropped clothes and ducked under one saleswoman as she descended upon Naruto and Ino. Natural trouble-maker and rabble-rouser that he was before he became a Genin, Naruto easily broke free of the saleswoman's grasp on his shoulder. Ino, model student and daughter, didn't have the experience.

Naruto didn't feel guilty in the least for leaving Ino responsible for the dropped clothes. He had a mission: Find Sakura, inform her how he was going to train her body, and then maybe get Pervert-Sensei's input on the quickest way to train a girl's body. It couldn't be any different from his, but then again, he still didn't know how to use Sakura's chakra.


"Trouble?" The Sound-nin ducked his head in a respectful bow for Kabuto, breathing heavily and his hands pressed firmly against his knees to hide the exhaustion that shook his limbs. "What sort of trouble?"

The Sound-nin trembled. "Two companions dead, killed by some unrecognizable beast. I should add, however, that the nine-tailed fox appears to be unstable, since its vessel last night beat his head against the pavement and yelled about it shutting up."

At the mention of the nine-tailed fox, something seemed to flash through Kabuto's eyes, but the moment was so fleeting and the look was so obscure that the Sound-nin might have imagined it. "Ah," he said, before falling silently into thought. He bowed his head until his chin nearly touched his chest, and he wrinkled his brow. After a moment, he lifted his head and adjusted his glasses "Tell me more; I'll relay it to Orochimaru-sama and see what he decides."

The Sound-nin smiled gratefully, since Orochimaru had a bad habit of punishing the messenger.


author's notes: To me, Sakura is Sakura and Naruto is Naruto. They just aren't in their bodies, but they have the same personalities and characteristics of what makes them them. Sakura still feels female, so she refers to herself as female; Naruto still feels male, so he refers to himself as male. Others see them as to which body they see; Ino will see Sakura, and Asuma will see Naruto. Italicized pronouns and names are actual references to the body, not the person. The only other way to make the genders for the switches persons any less confusing would be to call Sakura Sakura-kun and Naruto Naturo-chan.

I am not willing to resort to that.

Finally, the nine-tailed fox squishing Inner Sakura? He was never able to communicate with Naruto (whether for lacking the want to or being unable due to other blocks) up until Naruto made the effort to seek out the nine-tailed fox. How can the fox squash Inner Sakura like a bug when she is, for all intents and purposes, an extension of Sakura's mind? Inner Sakura made a bridge between the unconscious where the demon is, to the conscious where Sakura is. For all anyone knows, the demon can be toying with Inner Sakura and with Sakura, or maybe Naruto. Who knows. For that matter, no one still knows what Inner Sakura is. The fox doesn't know what is going on with this switch, so would it be wise to make his move with the unknowns? Maybe; maybe not.I'm not saying.