(Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews! Remember, if you're reading, please review! As always, warnings and disclaimers apply to all chapters. If anybody remembers the chapter titles of chapter 33, 34 or 37, please e-mail me or leave me a review!)

And the Beat Goes On
Chapter 29: Requiem of the Moon

Naruto knocked the snow off his shoes, then walked into the school, scraping what he could of the persistent snow off on the rug. Some days he wondered why Iruka didn't just take him with him when he drove to the school, but he supposed it was because Iruka was one of those 'up-and-at-'em' types. And he wasn't.

Sighing, he tugged open the door to the music room, only to pause and note the biggest notice he'd ever seen in his life posted on the door and staring him in the face. He nearly jumped back from the obnoxious green paper.

He read it once, and then he read it twice. He scratched his head a couple of times, and then, he paused to wonder how crazy Tsunade was. Did she actually think she'd get people to audition for some stupid play?

Eh, probably, he thought, putting to rest any thought of the bulletin, and walked inside the music room. He was thankful that he wasn't the only one there, nor was Sasuke the only other person in the room. Iruka was bustling about, trying to find music, or something, and Sakura and Ino were sitting on either side of Sasuke, flirting with him so blatantly it made Naruto want to gag. Every once in a while, they'd pause and glare at the other girl when she said something particularly clever.

They paused in their chatter and looked his way. Sasuke looked violently away from him, his mood souring suddenly. Up until that point, he'd been tolerating and ignoring Ino and Sakura to the best of his ability, but now, he kindly told them to, "Fuck off."

Naruto swallowed nervously, watching the two girls peel off Sasuke as if they were burned, startled by the sudden anger that must have just been emanating from him. He walked slowly by the three students, to sit at the piano. He could feel Sakura and Ino's eyes on him. Sasuke wasn't looking his way, looking fixedly at the other side of the room.

Iruka obliviously continued to run frantically about the room to get set-up for the lesson.

Naruto slowly fished around in his backpack to see if he could find his music, and he sat there, contemplating as other people began to filter into the room. Apparently, the moon no longer wanted to associate with the sun.

He supposed that might be because the moon was aloof and haughty, and now that the sun had wounded the moon and it's pride, the moon had more cause to be so. But, he would wait and see, because the waxing and waning of the moon happened, not in an instant, but gradually, over time.

He'd wait and see what happened to Sasuke.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

It was like deja vu, Ino thought. She was sitting at the same table, in the same place, with the same book opened on her desk. Her pen, her blue pen from the week before, was in her hand, and she had stopped mid-sentence to look at the clock, which read the same time.

And of course, deja vu wouldn't be complete if the same sort of thing didn't happen. The chair beside her slid out, and somebody sat down in it. She glanced to the side, and saw the same blonde girl who had sat down beside her last time she was in the public library.

The girl, however, said nothing immediately, just sat there, admiring her nails. Ino bit her tongue, sorely tempted to say something, but not wanting to at the same time.

At last, the girl said something, her voice low and calm, but cutting the air like a jagged knife. "Ino-dear, I heard you and Sakura had a little fight."

Ino huffed at the condescending tone, and threw down her pen, narrowing her icy eyes at the girl she didn't even know. "I don't care what you've heard," she snarled.

The blonde girl smirked. "Oh, don't you now? Well, I suppose you shouldn't really. I mean, you don't know me, after all."

Ino looked back to her paper, muttering, "That's right."

She had just picked up her pen, when the girl's hand grasped her own and she glanced up, looking into dark blue eyes. "Would you like to know me, Ino?" the girl said, and a smirk crossed her features.

Ino stared at her, dumbfounded by the double meaning and the implications of that statement. "I. . .I. . ."

The blonde girl smiled at her, then handed her a piece of paper. "I'll let you think about it," she said, coyly, then got up and walked away, leaving Ino bewildered.

Slowly, the platinum blonde looked down at the paper she held in her trembling hand. "Temari,"she mumbled through shock-numbed lips, studying the number written beneath the name.

She looked up, but the girl was gone.
- - - - - - - - - -

How utterly fitting was this. Two opposing forces, two opposing sides, two enemies were placed on opposite sides of the hospital hall.

Itachi had actually just stumbled across that by accident, because he was there to visit one of those embittered enemies. Orochimaru's fall out of his apartment window had done the older boy no good; but nobody would dare tell him anything.

He suspected that Orochimaru was in some sort of coma, at least, for the boy had been unconscious for days on end. He was worried that he'd broken his neck or something dreadful like that, but so far, he couldn't tell and nobody would tell him anything.

His teachers had practically excused him from school because, suddenly, for the first time in his life, he started to struggled with schoolwork. He couldn't tame his mind and it kept wandering back into the field of endless worry. He'd been so distracted that his teachers had kicked him out.

And so, there he was, not doing the schoolwork he should have been concerned with, because his future really rested with paper and pens, and not with the boy who was lying there, dead to the world. But somehow, he couldn't see those stupid math equation ever lending him money, or that English lesson helping him up if he fell down.

He was sure that Orochimaru, being the bastard he was, was going to be just fine and wake up and say something completely perverted when next he saw him, because he wouldn't wake up while he was there. It was like a written law, or something. And then, things would go back to normal.

But there was a tiny grain of him that couldn't be satisfied, nor assured, that everything was just fine and dandy. There was that tiny bit of worry that made him doubt and made him wonder, and whenever he wasn't there beside Orochimaru, that worry seemed to grow and grow and grow until it consumed most of him and he couldn't think straight.

He wanted everything to be all right, he really did, but he knew what a broken neck could do to you, and he knew that if Orochimaru was in a coma, he might never wake up. So did his future really lie there?

He wasn't sure of his direction anymore.

It was unnatural, because he had always been so sure of himself, so sure he knew what he was doing, and so sure that he knew how to handle everything, and just so sure that it made other people sick because he had such faith in himself.

Where was that confidence in his ability to be right now?
He'd just happened to look across the hall and find that Kisame was lying in the bed he could see from his seat beside Orochimaru. It seemed slightly. . .ironic.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The moon was wounded, exponentially.

Sasuke held his head high and was icier than anyone could remember him ever having been after his parents had died. He was on the point of blatantly rude, if he hadn't been before, and it was starting to make his classmates and his teachers angry.

But he learned his texts and did his work, so they had no right to complain about him. He knew they wanted to, but they didn't, because he was sitting right there, and he could still hear. Even though his head was down, and his eyes were trained on the paper, he was still well aware of what was around him.

Yes, he even knew that Naruto was looking at him, every few seconds, glancing up sideways from his work and looking directly at him. He wasn't about to acknowledge it, and he wasn't about to say anything about it, but it was annoying him. Annoying him to the point where he felt like snapping his pencil or turning about and screaming at the blond or throwing something. But that just wasn't mature and it would give his teacher a much needed excuse to throw him out of class.

So, he sat there and tried to concentrate on numbers and figures, and all the while, he could hear the click of twenty-seven pencils, when there were twenty-eight people in that room, and he knew that Naruto was looking at him again. What was worse, was that he could feel those eyes burning into the back of him, raking up and down him, like he was something to be objectified.

What he really wanted to know was why Naruto was looking at him like that, because they both knew it was over. They had broken up, and it was done with, so why the fuck was Naruto looking at him like he wanted to eat him? Was it because he regretted it? Was it because he wanted Sasuke now that he couldn't have him?

The dark-haired boy closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then set his pencil back to the paper, only to hear the lead snap, and looking down, saw all the itty bitty pieces of it, trailing across the paper like stardust and when he brushed them away, grinding into the paper, and the skin of his hand.

He was taken then with a coughing spell, which had been increasingly persistent in the past couple of days, and though he told himself it was nothing, he was beginning to worry that there was something wrong with him.

He'd taken a long look in the mirror that morning, and he'd been almost frightened by what he saw. He'd slept and slept and slept, but he still looked tired, with dark circles making his eyes look darker than they were. His hair had been a mess, but he hadn't really brushed it at that point, adding to his haggard appearance. His high cheekbone was infinitely more apparent than it had ever been, and he looked ill, peaked and drawn.

He'd lost weight too, which wasn't very good because he didn't weigh all that ridiculously much to begin with. He wasn't sure how much he'd lost, just that his clothes were a little looser, and were starting to hang off him, and make him appear gaunter than he already was.

He wasn't well, and he knew it. It made him nervous and edgy to think about what was ailing him, though. So, he didn't think of it at all, and he wouldn't think of it until he was dying. Even then, he didn't think he'd want to think about it much.

He glanced up at the front of the classroom, to find something to distract him from his work. He wasn't in the mood for working, or concentrating for that matter. He tried to read some of the notices written on the board, but found he couldn't, and they just became insignificant little white squiggles on a green backing. It was like not knowing how to read anymore.

But he knew he still knew how to read, so he put his head down on his desk and tried to nurse the headache he could feel building behind his eyes. He was intent on going to sleep, because he was so very tired, but somebody poked him in the arm with their pencil and Sakura's voice hissed at him, "The bell's going to ring."

He lifted his head, slowly, noting that it felt like a deadweight and proceeded to stuff his notebook in his backpack, just as the bell rang. He exited the classroom, just in front of Naruto, whose eyes were on his back instantly.

He stayed the urge to turn around and yell at him, stayed the urge to turn around and deck him, and just kept walking forward, eyes closed, suppressing that urge, and the urge that made him want to be sick.

A hand on his shoulder made him lose it, and he whirled about, nearly gagging because of the quick motion. Naruto's face was full of worry, unrighteous worry, because why should he worry about him when they had broken up?

"Hey, are you okay?"

Okay? Okay? Ha, okay, that was a word he'd never heard in his life! He didn't know what it meant, he didn't know how to pronounce it and he didn't know how to spell it. It was a foreign concept to him. Still, he merely shrugged off Naruto and turned away, intent on walking away, but Naruto was a persistent pest and Sasuke was reminded of why he'd hated the blond annoyance in the first place.

Naruto put his hand back on Sasuke's shoulder, holding him fast, and spun the older boy about. "You're wobbling," he stated and Sasuke glared at him, then swatted him off.
"I'm fine," he growled lowly, then started to walk away.

And as he stomped off down the hall, he began to feel a little more sick, and his limbs felt like they suddenly were ten thousand times lighter than they should have been. His breath came fast and he felt like gagging, and in a confused moment, he just collapsed in the hall, and for the most part, was unable to stand up.

Surprisingly, Naruto wasn't there to help him up. Or was that unsurprisingly? They had broken up and it was over, so what was the use in hoping he'd be there to help him up? On the other hand, the boy had been worried about him, so why hadn't he stuck around, persistently, for even a moment longer?

The world was spinning when two people started tugging on his arms, making him climb to his unstable feet and he swayed from one side to the other, like a young tree in the gale, and he tried to bring himself under control, but the more he tried, the further away control seemed to be.

Why was everything so dark?

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

It was all the buzz in the cafeteria. Everyone who walked by, whatever way they were going, whoever it was, high or low on the social ladder, was talking about it, and he was hearing all sorts of crazy things.

The most accurate depiction he could glean from the buzzing rumour mill was that Uchiha Sasuke had fainted in the hallway after third period.

He'd tried to get answers out of Sakura and Ino, who were sitting on either side of him, but they were too busy glaring at each other around him to say anything if they even knew a damn thing. Then again, it was about Sasuke, so they knew for sure.

Shikamaru was too lazy to bother telling him, as he'd soon found out, because the other boy knew something, but he had said it would be too much trouble to explain it to him. Choji was far too busy stuffing his face to relay any sort of information, other than how the vending machine sold an excellent array of chips.

So, Naruto sat in the cafeteria, listening to the people walking by, listening to all the buzz and chatter, and he sat there and felt self-satisfied. If this wasn't proof that his moon was waning, then what was?

He knew his next move, he knew what he should do next. He needed to kiss and make up with Sasuke, and he knew now that Sasuke was missing him sorely and would maybe object to him a little bit, just to make a show, but welcome him back with open arms.

Or so he thought.
When the bell rang to end lunch, instead of going to his class, Naruto decided to skip out and see Sasuke. If he cornered the boy in a weakened state, it'd be easier to talk to him, because Sasuke when he was fully coherent was incredibly scary.

So, he skirted by the door of his fourth period classroom and skidded down to the nurse's office to see if Sasuke was there. The nurse was out, so he let himself in, and he pulled back the curtains of the first bed, to find it empty. The second one was the same, and thus, Sasuke was not there.

Panicking, he tried his best to remember what Sasuke had fourth period, but he could not remember, for the life of him. Almost desperate, he turned about to dash out the door and nearly ran into the nurse.

She stared at him, but he bolted by her before she could say anything and ran as fast as he could, down the hall, all the way to the other end of the school. He stopped by his locker and grabbed his coat, and on a moment's hesitation, his mittens. He threw on his jacket and tugged on the gloves, then started running again, barely having caught his breath from his earlier jaunt.

This time, he ran out of the school only to find it was snowing like there was no tomorrow. The wind had turned bitter and it was blowing the falling snow into his face. Turning in the opposite direction of going home, he started to run, his breath scraping roughly at his insides, burning as he gulped in cold air.

He tore down the street, away from the school, narrowly avoiding on-coming traffic as he dashed across the street, trying his best not to slip and slide on the new fallen snow.

He ran up the hill on one of the back streets, feeling icy patches give way beneath his feet. He practically slid down the other side of the hill, then, slipping and sliding and narrowly catching his balance, he continued to run, as fast as he could, toward the Uchiha household.

He dashed up the drive, and he hopped the little gate that led to the walk, nearly falling on his ass when he landed. He skittered up the walkway, and scrambled onto the porch, then jammed his finger against the door bell, and pounded his fist against the door.

He tried the doorknob and found the door was open, so he opened the door, tumbled inside and slammed the door shut behind him, knocking the snow off his shoes as he proceeded to kick them off. He glanced up and there was Sasuke's aunt, Kurenai, and his great-grandmother standing there staring at him.

"Good afternoon," he said, mustering the most polite voice he could. "Is Sasuke in?"

They stared at him some more. Kurenai said softly, "Shouldn't you be at school?"

But Grandma Uchiha was the louder voice and she shook her cane at Naruto, declaring loudly, "You git outta my house! You're not welcome here, you hear! I don't want you near him, so you can put your shoes back on and leave!"

"I want to talk to him!" Naruto practically screeched at her.

He was in no mood for the old bat's theatrics. She was still shaking her cane at him though, and now she was glaring the patented Uchiha glare, but he wasn't about to take it. He shoved the wooden stick aside, and walked into the living room.

"This isn't your house," he said, rather quietly, rather dangerously.

The old woman narrowed her gaze. "This isn't your house either, brat."

He said nothing to her, fear of being hit with the cane catching up with him and he ran to the stairs, dashing up them and then, opening the closed door to Sasuke's room.

He shut the door, a little too forcefully, and the sound made a resounding echo in that suddenly small and secluded silent place. The blinds were drawn, and the whole room cast in darkness, like the nighttime.

He smirked a bit to himself, and was very glad it was dark, because he was pretty sure Sasuke was turned to face his way, but the darkness prevented him from seeing the grin of someone who had conquered something.

Naruto was grinning because inside his head, he was continuing his little metaphor. He supposed that Grandma Uchiha and Kurenai would serve as stars to his moon, the persistent attendants in the luna's court. If that were the case, and if the Uchiha house were considered the moon's domain, the kingdom of the moon as it were, then he had just entered the moon's most private chambers.

He had been right. Sasuke was looking at him, eyes narrowed and dangerous, enhanced by how thin and pale his face was. The older boy had propped himself up on his elbows, though he looked like he was having trouble holding that position. His mouth was drawn in a frown, and his entire body language was screaming at Naruto, "What do you want? Go away."

Naruto looked at that sallow face, then took a hesitant step forward. Sasuke's expression didn't change. That small room suddenly became ten thousand times larger, and walking across the floor to the bed seemed a suddenly impossible task. Still, he persevered and took another step into the room, deeper into moon territory.

Sasuke in the meantime seemed to be shrinking back, retreating and he curled up, pulling the blankets around him and trying to hide. Naruto nearly fell on top of the dark-haired boy when he tripped over an old magazine lying on the floor and landed square on the bed. The room didn't seem quite so big any more.
"Oy," he murmured, glaring at the other boy, who looked at him dully, as if exasperated. "Don't leave your shit lying around, eh?"

He felt around on the floor for the magazine and touching it with his hand, he grabbed it and removed it from the floor. He glared at Sasuke, who would have coloured if he could have, but he didn't because he couldn't.

Naruto glanced to the side, and one word in the title caught his attention, and he did a double take, then stared at the magazine for a moment or two. He looked at Sasuke, who bowed his head and looked away.

The blond looked back at the magazine, in mock-horror. He curled in horror at the sudden thought of Sasuke having that . . .thing spread open on his bed, exactly where he was then, and. . .

"Ew, you horny bastard!" Naruto cried, thumping Sasuke soundly over the head with the magazine before tossing it away.

Sasuke rubbed the top of his head, and glared darkly at Naruto. Naruto shuddered and made a face. "Bah!" he cried, twitching. "That's disgusting."

Sasuke said nothing. Naruto prodded the older boy in the ribs, wincing when he felt the skin shift over the bones, even through layers of cloth. "How'd you get that? The old fart who runs the adult bookshop won't even let me in!"

Sasuke looked at the floor, then muttered, "My brother."

Now there was an image Naruto really did not need. He cringed again, because his mind was providing him with far too many mental images.

And then it struck him that this should be far more awkward, because they had broken up, on bad terms, and they weren't even friends. They should no longer be talking this easily, him making fun of Sasuke and talking this casually to him, as if he were his friend. With that thought, he became awkward, and he glanced shyly at Sasuke.

"So, um. . ."

The boy cleared his throat, and coughed a little, then mumbled with a dry, cracked voice, "Why are you here?"

Naruto stumbled. "I. . .um. . .I wanted to apologize to you. . ."

"We're through," the older boy said coldly, and turned over, turning his back to Naruto.

"Hey now!" Naruto cried, angry with Sasuke and suddenly reminded of why he had hated the arrogant bastard in the first place.

He grabbed Sasuke forcibly by the arm and turned him back over, glaring at him, reading his eyes, his expression, and then, slowly, came to the conclusion he'd been looking for. "You're sick."

Sasuke said nothing, just went on looking at him, and being ill, and getting paler by the minute. It was almost as if Naruto could feel the boy slipping away from him, wasting away beneath his very fingertips and that scared him.

This was how his mother's illness and subsequent death should have affected him. It should have scared him, and hurt him and made him want to cry. But it hadn't. It had left him numb and confused, but this. . .

This was something else entirely. It was another plane of emotional stress, another new pinnacle on the mountain of fear. It was another gash, but this one seemed to be in his heart and lungs, and the blood in his very veins froze to see those eyes and that face becoming nothing, fading away, and the stab hurt his lungs, punctured them, and made it hard to breathe, like he was a fish above the water, trying to process air and oxygen.

He couldn't.

He couldn't believe this. He couldn't believe that Sasuke, that cold arrogant jerk he'd known since third grade, when he had changed schools, was right there and then, going toward being no more. Uchiha Sasuke was dying right before his very eyes.

"Oh, gods," he murmured, and slowly, numbly, with his arms and voice shaking, he gathered Sasuke to himself, pressing that cold, thin body to his own, trying to share life and vitality with that corpse.

Sasuke struggled against him for several minutes, but his strength was waning, and he gave up before long, protesting meekly, with a tired, quiet voice, as he laid there, cuddled in the blond's arms. He frowned and tried to push away again, finding the entire situation wrong as they were through, and once again, Naruto unconsciously exerted his strength and crushed the frailer boy against himself.

Here came the tears now, the sorrow and the pity. It was everything he hated, and he no longer wanted it. He was tired of being 'poor little Sasuke' and having all his teachers give him good grades anyway, when he struggled to even read a paragraph in the text books, right after his parents died. He was tired of people saying, "Poor Sasuke. He lost them at such a young age, and he never got over them. . ."

He wasn't scared, or lost or confused anymore. He wasn't the little boy who had lost his parents any longer and didn't know when or why or where they'd gone, or even if they were coming back, and slowly realized that they weren't.
He knew exactly where he was going now, and he was no longer confused about what direction to take. He knew exactly where his parents were, and he was like the child who went to meet those guardians at the airport, and he knew this, and was anxious to see them.

He was going to his grave.

Tears now, all wet in his hair, making him cold with their cooling presence as they dropped into his hair, onto the exposed skin of his neck, rolling down the blanch expanse, tracing gentle patterns, like someone's soft touch.

If he closed his eyes now, he could almost see his mother. . .

Was that what her touch had felt like? Soothing, yet cool? Had her hands been warm or cold? He supposed they were cold now, because bones and earth and corpses were always cold. So yes, her touch had been cool. But gentle? He couldn't remember. That was a lifetime ago.

"Hey! Jerk! Don't go to sleep on me!"

Naruto's voice warbled into his head, winding up and down, unevenly, jaggedly, like the rocks at the bottom of a cliff, and he felt the blond's grip tighten on him, his fingernails cutting crescent moon prints into his skin.

"I'm awake," he mumbled, and faintly, he could hear the stomping of feet on the stairwell, and the steady bang of something wooden on the stairs too. Who was that?

Sasuke pushed himself away from Naruto, just a bit, and looked into the blond's teary face, noting the tears, and the red blotching of the skin around his eyes, irritated by the salt in the tears. He stared into that face he'd once liked to look at, but now, he only felt numb about this person here, holding him.

"Naruto," he murmured, his soft tone barely catching the blond's attention. "I'm sorry I didn't say it earlier."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

At first, she hadn't wanted to be curious. At first, all she had wanted to do was burn that slip of paper, and with it, the memory of that blonde girl. But somehow, as she stared at that strange scrawl, in that pretty shade of blue - like the girl's eyes had been, oh how intense they'd been! - she couldn't decide whether or not she really wanted to let this opportunity slip away from her.

She could get back at Sakura, and make the pink-haired fiend hurt, just like she herself had hurt when she'd found out there was betrayal at hand. Treat treason with treason, was the poison her mind gave her, and she'd take that venom and kill Sakura with it.
So, there she was on that winter's night, on the far side of town. She was worlds away from home, and she knew it, standing in that dank, dusky hall, which was lined with door upon door upon door, and she knew in an instant she would always hate apartment buildings. She'd found this place by looking up the phone number she'd been given and she'd taken the address and run with it, all the way to the bus stop.

She'd paid her two dollar fare, and she ridden from the suburbs, lined with neatly trimmed lawns, buried under snow, and warmly lit houses, to the core, the very depth of Konoha, with their ancient buildings, narrow streets, and their late-night convenience stores. She'd ridden out of the downtown core and beyond, toward the highway, the ancient highway that took them to Suna. And then, she'd stopped, and she'd walked, and she'd come to be standing there, in front of that worn door, and she wondered if this was really the right thing to do.

She had no more time for thought, however, when the door swung open, and a blond boy, the shade of his hair so very like that girl's, looked at her, squinting as dim light flooded out from behind him, but his shadow blocked her from that light.

He just looked at her for a moment or two, and she felt scared, startled by that gaze, by the fact he was just looking at her like that. What was that thing you were supposed to say when you answered the knocking on your door and found someone there?

Oh, yes, 'hello' was a typical greeting. Or 'may I help you'. But he said nothing, for an eternity, or so it felt to her, as she stood there and tried very hard not to shake in her designer boots from things other than cold.

At last, he turned about, a bit at least, and yelled, calling back into the depths of the apartment, "Temari!"

There was that name! It was the name that was written on the small slip of paper in her pocket. She stayed her breath, which was hitching in nervousness and anticipation. The girl's words from earlier rung in her ears, and she tried not to let her eyes, or her face give anything away.

"Would you like to know me, Ino?"

The boy was gone now, without so much as a word to the girl standing at his door, and then, rather suddenly, he was replaced by Temari, with her eyes darkened by the poorly lit hallway, but her sly smirk made no less brilliant.

"Oh, hello, Yamanaka Ino," she said, her voice coy and curling about the younger girl like smoke.

"Why don't you come inside?"

There was that sly innuendo again, so blatant that even the most naive twit simply could not miss its implications! But Ino nodded lightly, replying to the words, without speaking herself, because she was too dumbstruck.

She stepped inside, feeling intoxicated by that smoke that was winding its way around her, and holding her tight, and she inhaled deeply, trying to get a breath of fresh air to clear her head, but the whole apartment was filled with that heavy air, and it filled her lungs, making her head spin. The world was hazy, as if smoke-filled.

"Come on, Ino-dear," Temari said, closing the door and laying her hand on the small of Ino's back, cleverly establishing contact and guiding the struck girl from the eyes of her brothers.

Ino sucked in air, but couldn't seem to breathe, feeling warmth radiating from that hand. Her mind began to crowd her head with thoughts, thoughts of that hand, touching. . .elsewhere. She happened to glance to her left, though, and the illusion was shattered, only to be replaced by that prevailing sense of bewilderment.

Startling green eyes bored into her head, and she almost started, thinking for a moment this was Sakura, and maybe - But no, the hair was far too deep a shade of pink, more of a blood red, to belong to that wench, and she recognized this face now, as none other than Gaara, the boy who had started all that trouble for -

No, it wasn't good to think about things that had been, but the things that could be.

She turned her gaze back front, hearing Gaara turn away, and she saw, from the corner of her eyes, his disgusted scowl as he turned away.

Temari glanced at her brother, then at the blonde girl she was guiding into the depths of the apartment, and looked puzzled for a moment or two, before smiling and turning her attention back to the matters at hand.

Manipulating people was so simple.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Sakura tore down the street, sure she was going to be late getting home for dinner. Her shoes slipped on the icy patches on the sidewalk, and her hair was filled with the snow that kept flying at her. Band practice had run so late!

She skidded by Ino's house, heading toward the path that led through the woods, which they'd deemed as a shortcut when they were five. When they were still friends, she managed to think, and struggled to stay upright, frowning bitterly.

Her shoes would have made noise on the snow, other than a squeaking noise because they were cold, as she tore by Shikamaru's house, no longer caring about slipping and falling. It was bound to happen sooner or later, so why should she worry about it? There was no use in trying to avoid the ice, because it was buried under layers of new-fallen snow. Her footsteps, behind her, laid the ice bare, churning up the fresh snow as she went.

And then, she stopped, slipping and falling, though she didn't really slip so much as she crashed into something in her way and stumbled back, and from momentum, fell onto her bottom with some degree of force.

"Oh, I'm sorry Sakura," said a terribly familiar voice.

Though she dreaded to, she looked up and came face to face with Lee. He was crouching down now, extending one hand, smiling that smile of his. "Let me help you up."

She scuttled away from him, and got up herself, brushing the snow off her jacket and glaring at Lee from this safe distance. "I can help myself," she growled dangerously.

Lee looked. . .disappointed? "Sakura!" he cried, a look of utter hopelessness entering his eyes and filling them to the brim. "Why! Why do you still reject me!"

He turned himself about, making some sort of self-prompted monologue, while Sakura huffed and went back to trying to get the clingy snow off her clothing. She glanced over at Lee, and the words, "How could my plan fail!" struck her between the ears.

The pink-haired girl paused, and she stared off at the snowbanks for a little while, before realizing the full impact of what had just been said. She wheeled on the boy in green, saying lowly, dangerously, "Lee. . ."

He turned about to look at her, the corners of his lips trembling, indicating he was unsure whether to go on whimpering to himself or smile. "Yes, Sakura?"

Her eyes narrowed dangerously, and an angry half-smirk came to her lips. "What did you just say?"

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