Disclaimer: Naruto copyright Masashi Kishimoto 2006 and beyond.

Lesson One: Listen to the Music


She grabbed his hand, pulling him close in a sharp movement more jerky than fluid.

"Calm down, Ms. Haruno. We are learning to dance, not to gut fish."

She gritted her teeth, but smiled pleasantly at the instructor. She knew that. Her partner just wasn't helping. If anything, he looked like a fish about to be gutted. Or at least his eyes held the disinterested, blank stare of a dead fish.

Then again, she had dragged him here against his will.

"Shikamaru," she ground out, smile plastered on, "You could at least try to move like you're supposed to."

"Tch," he said, looking disdainful. It was the damnedest thing, considering he didn't bother to look any other way. "It's troublesome enough having your roommate-"

"Your girlfriend-" she pointed out.

"-My Friend-With-Benefits," he amended, emphasizing the unseen capitals, "Threatened me bodily harm if I didn't show up here tonight." Shikamaru looked decidedly unimpressed. "Dancing. So goddamn troublesome."

Privately, Sakura agreed. She picked up on the basics fairly quickly, but getting coordinated past that point was proving nearly impossible. "You know I would have asked Chouji if he'd been around."

"Tch." Shikamaru knew as well as she did Chouji would have come along – for a price. He was good natured and easy going, but offering him a decent dinner at one of the better places in town certainly sweetened the deal.

Plus, you felt guilty otherwise. Chouji was simply too... giving to have nothing come back.

Still, this wasn't half bad. Even if Shikamaru looked pained. Sakura forced herself to relax. She was here to learn, she had to remind herself.

Plus... In all honesty, while their instructor was gay, he was also very kind on the eyes. After dealing with a department of older, if distinguished, men all day, it was a nice break. If an admittedly shallow one.

"Okay! People, switch it up – trade your partners, come now ladies, don't be shy, gentlemen – remember yourselves. Smile, everyone – we're happy! There-there, Tsuichi, no need to file your teeth on the new boy – Oh don't tell me that was Tayuya I heard cursing up a storm! SAMANTHA, Samantha darling, please join me here and let poor Darren have a chance with the new kids, yes I know darling, it's so out of date, but sharing is caring they say – distance makes the heart grow fonder and I'll be damned if I don't want to dance as well!"

Sakura wrinkled her nose and patted Shikamaru's shoulder in apology. "Sorry, buddy – rules of the dance floor." She heard his groan at her back as she smiled at the young Caucasian in front of her. She was petite, and Japanese. He looked worried.

"Hello. I'm Sakura." She smiled, non-threatening. The dance instructor's voice was a pleasant murmur behind her.

"David," he offered, flashing an awkward grin. "Nice to meet you. Shall we dance?" He held out his hand, offering to take hers.

Sakura allowed him, and in the poised moment before their instructor called out some rhetorical nonsense and hit play on the old boom-box settled in the gym's corner, she closed her eyes.

College.

What a rush.

And then they were moving, and the only thoughts in her mind were of the rhythms, and the faithful beat of her two feet in tandem with the stranger's on the ground.


"Temari's going to kill me."

"For what?" Sakura raised an eyebrow. "The tango?"

Shikamaru scowled. "You have no idea how troublesome that woman can be."

"You can't be serious."

"Oh, but I am." His eyes looked up into the dark sky, devoid of a moon, appealing unseen gods.

Sakura shook her head, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. Temari was her roommate, for sure – still, she didn't seem to be the sort to... Well, suffer needlessly from jealousy. Temari struck her as being very self-assured. "If you insist. Though you only danced with me, and she can hardly fault you for that."

Shikamaru looked unimpressed. "You females..." He shook his head. "I wouldn't be surprised."

The odd-colored red-head snorted in amusement as she hit the button for the crosswalk. "You're a Chauvinist, you know."

"Point of pride," he quipped back, languidly moving across the street as Sakura frowned and waited for the sight to flash white, signaling her okay. Shikamaru was waiting on the other side, one eyebrow quirked up in silent question. She chose not to answer what he hadn't bothered verbalizing.

Their walk back to the dormitories was made in silence.

A stray biker passed them, zooming off in clicking silence into the night. Sakura dug around in her off-shoulder purse for her keys, pulling out the familiar lanyard with a sigh. "Thanks, Shikamaru. You coming up?"

He sighed, briefly closing his eyes and then staring up at the blank face of the building. "Nah. She should be sleeping, and it's more troublesome to walk the extra stairs and dealing with her waking up and being surprised to see me than being bitched out tomorrow." He shuddered, mostly in remembrance of the last time that had happened.

Sakura frowned. "You did deserve that, you know."

He shrugged, walking away. "Eh." With a backward wave, he continued toward his dormitory. Sakura shrugged. He was a nice enough guy.

Though she didn't quite see what Temari found in him – at least that way.

The slight oceanic breeze which cooled the campus at night managed to chill Sakura as she climbed the empty, uncovered stairs. The doors she passed looked in on still-lit halls, a few denizens spilling out in their haphazardly social fashion. Sakura wasn't often tempted, herself. She enjoyed quiet moments of solitude, personally – few and far between. Life had made her silence precious. When there were no outside words, she could listen to the ones she liked to ignore. Pick at old scabs. Hope they wouldn't leave scars anyone could see.

She paused, the fourth story the last in these clustered buildings. The catwalk uniting this building to the next stood vacant, and unlike the halls below, not a soul was in sight. Her eyes drifted out over the courtyard of the quad, into the darkness of the lagoon and the bookstore beyond it, lit up haphazardly this late at night. The mountains in the distance were impossible to spot, fading into the inky sky smoothly. Sakura stared at the invisible point of their divergence, key in hand.

The blinking lights of an approaching aircraft drew her back to herself. She fumbled with the key in the lock, turning and pulling outward, slipping silently into the warmer hallway. She allowed the door to close behind her, soft as it wished. Three doors down, and even walking that far she could hear the life behind the thick, impassive wood frames.

4113. The secondary key was cold in her fingers, sticking in the lock. These may be the newest dorms on campus, but they still behaved like rickety old men. Or was the word she wanted crockety? The door swung open under her hands, jerking her key away as she blinked and found herself staring at her roommate's chin.

"Out late, Haruno?"

"It's only eleven, Temari. Still - I thought you'd be asleep by now." Sakura pointedly looked at her roommate's shirt, a ratty old thing she often made suffer through the washing machine and often wore to bed (it wasn't fit for anywhere else).

"Couldn't. I've a two page response paper due tomorrow on a book that didn't come in until this afternoon." The blonde didn't look exactly pleased.

Sakura shook her head in sympathetic consternation, slipping into their room as Temari moved to the side. The jingle of keys proved Temari's good-natured retrieval of her roommate's lanyard.

"How was dance?"

Sakura slipped out of her shoes, kicking them toward the closet. "Tiring." She sighed, flopping onto her bed. "Did you happen to know down comforters are the most heavenly things on Earth?"

"No," Temari said simply, shuffling back toward her desk and the laptop humming happily on it's surface. "But I'll keep it in mind." She sat, yawning. "Learn anything new?"

Staring up at the ceiling, Sakura took her time in replying. "Well..." She sighed and sat up, scooting back so her legs dangled over her bedside. Her feet were privately very happy to be relieved of pressure. "We did learn a bit of tango."

"Oh. That's nice." Temari paused, looking over her shoulder. "Wait. Tango?"

Sakura grinned, waggling her fingers at her roommate, and most-times friend.

"It takes two to tango," Temari pointed out, as if the quote had some special merit.

"I'd hate to see three people attempt it, but yes. Don't worry," she said teasingly, "I made sure the only one Shikamaru got close to was me."

"That's supposed to comfort me?" Temari raised her eyebrow, keeping a straight face.

Sakura snorted, standing to move over to her closet. "Even if I was interested in his lazy ass, I wouldn't want to deprive you of your on again, off again sweetheart." She cocked her head to the side. "Though it would stop the sexiliations..."

A pillow hit her in the back of the head and she turned and mock scowled at Temari, picking the pillow up and setting it on her dresser. "Now that wasn't very nice. Mine for the night."

"We do not sexile you!"

"Not often," Sakura quipped back, winking. "And don't pretend otherwise. I'm just surprised you remembered to hang the fan on the door handle."

Temari didn't dignify the accusation with a response, turning to face her glowing monitor. Indignity enough to be a third year housing with a first. Arguing was just not something she cared to indulge in as well.

Sakura was just as glad, slipping out of her clothes and into her night-gown. Already out of fashion in her parent's generation, it was one of the few oddities the young woman allowed herself. Still, as she shrugged into her robe and headed to the restroom, at least Temari didn't feel the urge to pick on her for it.

She returned, finding Temari frowning at her computer screen and mumbling under her breath. Sakura wasn't inclined to inquire for clarification on what exactly her roommate was saying – from past experience, it wasn't exactly pleasant. "Frustrated?"

Temari flipped her the "affectionate" version of the bird, and Sakura shook her head and climbed into bed. "Goodnight."

"I hate you."

"I love you too." Almost immediately upon snuggling under her comforter, Sakura was out.

The next thing she knew the radio was blasting in her ears.

"You were right in front of me/Now I can see and you're long gone/Forget what everyone told you/My love is lost in time."

"Will you wake up already? Turn that damn thing off." Temari's sleepy voice cut through the haze of Sakura's awakening, and the younger woman frowned and slammed down on the snooze button. Fifteen minutes would see her up and out the door. Just long enough to allow her an escape before the alarm would pester Temari into actually attending her first class in the morning. Unlike Sakura, Temari lived for the odd period of daylight starting at roughly eleven-forty and ending at sunset. Considering her first class was at nine, this didn't work itself into her natural schedule.

Sakura herself took shortcuts. She slipped out of bed, grabbing her bathrobe and toothbrush. Take care of the little things first, and you'd be ready for the day. Her mother had been a fan of that saying. Still was, in fact.

Temari hadn't moved when Sakura re-entered the room. "Twelve minutes," she piped up, smiling as the lump known occasionally as the Great And Wonderful Ass Kicking Temari (self-labeled) grunted and shifted.

Sakura shifted through her closet and pulled out a pair of clean jeans and whatever shirt looked appropriate for the moderately-overcast day outside. She didn't own much of anything revealing – Sakura appreciated the effect a well formed woman could have on a man, but in college, it was easier to be taken seriously without showing cleavage or thigh. That, she figured, or at least Temari had informed her, was when you wanted something.

Right now, the only thing Sakura wanted was to get to class on time – and stay awake through lecture. Which was a tall order, considering it was History – and American History, to boot.

Slinging her backpack over her shoulders, she plopped the lanyard over her neck and fled into the hall. "Two minutes-" she called over her shoulder, startling one of the other girls in the hall and causing Temari to groan again, no doubt. There was a small smile on Sakura's lips as she flew out the door and down the stairs, locking her hand on the metal rail to swing herself around the corners.

Maybe today wouldn't be so bad after all. The sun was even emerging from behind the clouds as she unlocked her bike and put the kickstand up, wheeling it out backward before straddling it's frame and taking off.

No, today might actually be wonderful indeed.


Author's Note: Now. I have been out of writing fan fiction for some time. Everything I started years back has been on hold since all that I had written as continuation was lost. That has no real forbearance on anything here. I just felt like saying it.

More pointed note: I welcome flames. I welcome critique. I welcome useless spewage. Not sewage, but spewage. I am writing this as a college setting. What college? The one I attend. There will be points to the effect that these are Japanese students in America. I will write them as American, because I don't think I have the ability to not be ethnocentric enough to understand another viewpoint and faithfully write it. I will be attempting to stay IC. I will be expanding upon what I understand of characters and moving them forward emotionally as I interpret their reactions to events. I will be attempting to involve all characters from the manga series as I see fit – and the relationships are, at large, similar to those found in the manga. Not the same, as this is also AU.

THE POINT being I want you all to argue with me. Your insight and debate sparks interesting thoughts, and I trust you are all intelligent enough to care to see things through.

And no, I don't necessarily sanction many pairings all around, so based on how I see things going, these may or may not happen. "What?" says you. "But you set Shikamaru and Temari up right at the... start." I call it plot device. ;D Or something ludicrous like the rapper. I hope the story is interesting – I don't want to create a forced following based on who may or may not end up with another character.

Because, to spite my one loyal reader (namely, myself), I will pair everyone with everyone in one big "love-fest" if I so choose. ;D Meaning: no expectations going in will be a healthy way of getting good things out. D