A/N: ...I wrote this in my sleep. Not literally, of course, but the phrasing came directly from a dream (proving that my brain is more frightening than I'll ever know) that was very creepy, and yet cool. It involved a lot of ghosthunting (GHOSTS FREAK ME OUT) and banding up into three-man teams based on who was ALIVE to do so, and also, puncturing little things that looked like blood cells floating midair to gain their powers. Also, for no reason, Neo/Trinity mood icons. Er. Moving on.

This was written for the 31days LJ community, which I'm more or less an active participant in. More than most places, anyway. The theme for this was 'Battle without honor or humanity', and this is a fairly loose interpretation of it. Sorry 'bout that. >>

Blanket disclaimer for not-ownage and rampant, probable OOC goes here.

000

Sakon's shirt is already off, thrown somewhere behind him as he straddles her thighs, and Sakura's is halfway to following its trajectory before it occurs to her that this particular tableau doesn't seem quite right.

He tries to kiss her, and being the dutiful student to Tsunade that she is, she instantly punches him.

The mysterious miasma of fear, lust, and teenage hormones that sent them spinning into the shadows disappears as quickly as it came, their own personal bubble of privacy punctured beyond repair as he slides off her thighs and turns away, sulky. He also looks as though he's suddenly remembering just who and what they are, and at that, Sakura feels an odd, panicky desire to return to the anonymity of the moment before.

She does so the only way she knows how. No one's more suprised than she is when she rises on her knees, clamps her hands on Sakon's shoulders, and kisses him thoroughly when he turns towards her in surprise. Something that might be a muffled yelp explodes from his mouth where their lips meet, and for a moment, Sakura thinks he's going to kick her away.

Then he relaxes, and his fingers wander to hem of her shirt, easing it up and off her skin. This time, she lets him.

He kisses her, and it's the most unromantic meeting of teeth and skin she's ever been party to in her life. This is, at its core, a highly unromantic situation period, as she's reasonably certain that losing your virginity to the-enemy-turned-wary-ally among the thankfully odorproof trash bags dumped behind the hospital is just not the done thing.

Sakura tastes the blood and vomit on his breath, and because she is, above all, a medic, she counts his ribs in the dark the only way she knows how: by touch. Her fingers, callused and gentle, scale up his sides, and she counts at least two that will need binding before she slips her hands behind his back and drags them down what she suspects might be a double spine. She's smart enough not to ask, but she finds herself suddenly reminded of days in Konoha's infirmary, learning -- of all things -- birth defects.

Ukon is nowhere in evidence, and she wonders if Sakon has reabsorbed his twin into his body the same way one sibling may assimilate another in the womb.

The night air mouths her skin as he lays it bare, but it's need that makes her shiver when he kisses his way down her neck.

000

...Now I wish someone would write more of this pairing for me, even if it makes no canon sense.