Disclaimer: Naruto copyright Masashi Kishimoto 2006 and beyond.
Lesson Two: Feel The Rhythm With You Eyes
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Fog moved off the ocean, hanging over the campus like a living creature, creeping across the grass and asphalt to pool around the buildings. Sakura drew her coat tightly around her shoulders with one hand, the other tightening on the handlebars. The morning rush of biking traffic was slow, as if the fog had materialized around the bike wheels and slowed their rotation. She shivered, feeling incredibly awake in the crisp morning air. She missed the sun, which had seemed so promising a handful of minutes ago.
She slowed as another student darted across the bike-path, clutching their backpack to their chest. Sakura had seen several accidents already, and this was only the first week of actual classes. According to Temari, "The idiots don't get smarter, they just get faster." Of course, Temari held a similar opinion with most everyone.
The bikes in front of her slowed as they neared the first major round-about on campus. She tensed, knuckles turning white. Adrenaline rushed through her body. A small part of her mind thought this was ridiculous – biking was not a life or death situation. Normally.
She still was hyper-aware. Her eyes were wide, seeming to take in every small detail as she merged, registering the flickering glance a fellow biker gave her before they slowed to cut behind her. She eyed her path, brow furrowing as she felt the sharp edge of adrenaline travel down her spine. She was ready to move – she could see her opening as she rounded the curve. Tensing, she went for it.
Out of the corner of her eye, something caught her attention. Black hair… Recognition hit – just as someone's bike did.
Sakura flew sideways, skidding on her shoulder and feeling her bike slam down on her left leg as her head cracked against the pavement. She heard the squeal of the bike tires as people pulled on their brakes to avoid hitting her, the buzz of voices calling out, "You okay?" and "Dude, did you see that?" Rubberneckers. Sakura forced herself to move, glad for the helmet on her head as she pushed the bike off her leg and tried to sit up.
The biker who'd hit her was already gone. She was pissed, even as unfamiliar hands pressed against her back, steadying her. "Are you alright?" The same question, repeated again, though this time Sakura pinned the question to a face and answered vaguely, scanning the crowd for a chance sighting of what, or rather who, had distracted her. Nothing.
Still a bit shocked, she got to her feet with someone's unneeded help, mumbling, "I'm fine," to every question tossed her way. She bent to pick up her bike, noting as she righted it the rear tire was bent awkwardly. She stared at it dumbly for a moment, then frowned.
"They can fix that over at the A.S. Bikeshop." The helpful hands spoke again. Sakura managed to shake off enough of her mental stupor to look toward them, smiling as much as she could.
"Thanks," she said. The bells of the campus tower rang, indicating the ten minute warning to the hour. She tensed. "Shit." She needed to get to class. Realistically, the Professor wouldn't notice if she was absent, but Sakura abhorred missing class.
"Well, hey, if you have to get to class, I can drop it off for you." Sakura looked at him, feeling a mixture of insane hopeful gratitude and distrust. The young man was smiling at her, an open, honest grin that struck Sakura as refreshing on this gray and painful morning. His hair was black – Not Sasuke's – and bowl cut, something she privately thought had gone out of style in middle school. There was something earnest, and frankly, boy-scoutish about the young man.
She found herself smiling in kind. The seconds were ticking by, and he seemed nice enough. Still... "No, I can't have you bother yourself-"
"It's a nice day, isn't it?" He looked off toward the ocean, hidden beyond the buildings, smiling still. "Perfect day for a young man and a young woman's broken bike to become better acquainted." He looked back at her, giving her a thumbs up. "Trust me!"
Sakura wasn't inclined, but she wasn't left with much choice. Unless she dealt with this after class... "...You don't even know me," she pointed out, rubbing her elbow as she realized it was skinned. The bike flow had dropped down, and standing between both lanes as they were, she felt less isolated and caged.
A hand thrust itself in front of her. "Lee Rock."
Conditioned, she firmly shook his hand, blurting out her own name in polite reflex. "Sakura Haruno."
"Nice to meet you, Miss Haruno," Lee said jovially, giving her a slight bow as he picked up her mangled bike. "Registered?"
"Er-" she assumed he meant the bike, but seriously, carrying it was a bit too much- "Yes, but-"
"Number?"
"Well it's on there, I don't remember-"
"Yours," he clarified, nodding his head pleasantly and flashing her a wider grin.
"Ah." Oh. Right. A.S. required those details on registered bikes, lest thieves actively flaunt the system. "Do you need to have me write it down?" She patted her pockets, finding neither a pen nor paper. She could get out her notebook, but that was even more time-
"I take it as a challenge that I can remember it with just these two ears," Lee said, enthused. While she looked at him incredulously, he gave her another thumbs up. It was enough for now. Why not believe in random acts of kindness?
"Eight zero five, five five five, nine three six one. Are you sure?"
He winked. "In this springtime of our youth, it would be my honor!" He winked, and about then, Sakura realized he was flirting.
She prevented herself from recoiling. It wasn't him, it was just... the thought. Even her counselor agreed – nevermind. Don't read into it. She smiled; a loose, honest grin. "Thank you." She had to be grateful.
And on time.
Even as she was about to apologize for having to run, Lee had already moved. "Best of luck, Miss Haruno!" he called over his shoulder, making quite the picture as he ran with her bike. She half waved, not sure what to make of everything that had just happened. Her head pounded in agreement.
Well, today was certainly turning out to be interesting. Sakura sighed, rubbing her elbow again and wincing as she looked at her watch. Shit... I've got five minutes.
Sakura Haruno had never run across campus so fast in her life.
---
She pushed through the double doors just as the professor set his transparencies on the projectors, adjusting the focus to his pleasure. As usual, the seats toward the back of the auditorium were jam-packed, people jabbering and laughing in the prelude to the rapt attention people pretended to pay once the professor would clear his throat and begin.
She sat herself in the front, to the left. Mostly, she would be alone. Sakura found she took better notes without the constant movement people engaged in while sitting "still" for class.
The professor cleared his throat, and for the first time, Sakura registered that he looked different. As he spoke, she came to a startling realization of just how different he was.
"Good morning, students! I am Professor Maito, and I regret," he said, looking honestly saddened, "To inform you that Professor Kanovitch has been forced to take this quarter off. Fear not," he continued, smiling suddenly, "For your education, however! I promise you all, youthful as you are, I, your esteemed professor, will make this class on the intricate history of these United States a dynamic, interactive experience!" He grinned, giving the few hundred stunned students a double-thumbs up.
Sakura had two thoughts pass through her mind. One, Professor Maito reminded her awfully much of Lee. Two...
Men in business suits shouldn't strike poses.
"Dude!" A voice rang out from the back of the room. "Are you gay?"
The professor smiled. "Am I happy? Terribly! Thank you for asking young man." His grin turned vaguely threatening as he gave the rude student a thumbs up. "What might your name be?"
A slight jostling occurred, one of the speaker's friends nudging him until he coughed and spoke up again. "Michael Wilson, Professor Maito."
Maito smiled pleasantly. "I'll be expecting your three page short report on the etymology of the word "gay" and its slide into common slang within the States on my desk Thursday afternoon by five, Mr. Wilson. I look forward to what you have to say." He gave the class a broad smile.
Everyone was silent. Sakura, privately, was a bit awed... and scared.
"Anyone care to volunteer for extraneous research right now?" One kid shifted in his seat. "No? Then let's get started." Professor Maito strode over to the far wall, flipping the lightswitches, dimming the lights in front. The screen flickered to life, and a power-point sat at ready, course requirements in bold black on simple white.
Sakura was fairly certain History would never again tempt her into slumber. At least not with Professor Maito. After he had passed out the syllabus and moved into it's discussion, he'd spotted one student sleeping in the middle of the room. Even now, no one was exactly sure how he'd hit the sleeping student with that water balloon, but no one was questioning much of anything. It was too engaging. Their eyes were glued to him as he paced the front of the room, at times gesturing grandly, others pausing and assuming a pose of deep concentration before bursting into action. The man was fascinating.
"Balloons were invented in England in 1824. In this same year State-Side the United States War Department created the Bureau of Indian Affairs, dealing with an already devastated population. This same year Ambrose Burnside was born – he who would grow up to be one of the many American Civil War Generals. Do you understand the connections? Can you see the amazing vitality in these three separate events?" One of the students shook their head. The professor smiled, regarding his class as a whole. "That's why you're here," he said. "To learn to see."
He made history come alive. Something that was both powerful, and frightening... all in one. Sakura was inspired. His energy captivated, drew them in, demanded. Class ended almost too soon. Students milled around outside, conversing lively and smiling, laughing.
Sakura lifted her head, smiling to herself. She could have joined them.
She glanced at her watch and grimaced.
No she couldn't. Her next class was about to begin. "Will it ever end?"
---
"You get used to it after the second week," Temari confided, sliding into the booth in the cafeteria.
"Ah," Sakura gingerly sat, pushing her tray sideways and grimacing. She'd discovered most of her injuries from the morning's 'accident' after classes, when she'd returned to the dorm for the afternoon. Now, at dinner, Sakura looked like shit.
"So what exactly happened, again?" Temari picked at her salad. She had decided to try a diet. Sakura had ostensibly only been living with her roommate for two weeks. So far she'd seen three different "diets". She privately thought Temari was just creating some sort of elaborate ruse to allow the food to maintain a degree of variety and flavor. This was her third year eating on campus, after all.
She sighed. "I was at the round about when someone bowled me over."
"And left you with a bruised forehead, skinned elbow, shoulder, knee and..." the older youth trailed off, making a vague gesture to Sakura as a whole with her hand.
"More bruises than I care to ever remember all over. Did I mention my helmet was cracked?"
Temari shook her head, but didn't look all that concerned. Sakura was here, after all, and likely was as good as she could be. "Welcome to the hell that is bike traffic." Temari gave up on her salad. "What did you end up doing with your bike?"
Sakura's brow furrowed. "Actually, it was the craziest thing. This guy said he'd take it over to A.S. for me, and I didn't get a chance to stop by there before they closed, but..." She shook her head. "It was just insane. You should have seen him run with it!"
Temari raised her eyebrow. "Are you that sure he took it to A.S.? Bike theft is fairly common, and it would be almost too ironic if you'd handed your bike over to a thief with a smile and a nod." She grinned. "At least tell me he was hot."
Sakura frowned. "What? No, I don't think Lee would... " she trailed off, since realistically, she knew nothing about the stranger. Well crap. "But he has my phone number and I-"
Temari's laughter interrupted her. "You gave this kid your phone number? Sakura, I never knew! And it being only the first week of classes. You sly dog, you."
Sakura blinked, then frowned, the abruptly shook it off. "Right. No, but I hope to god he isn't interested."
"Really?" Temari leaned forward on her elbows, curious. The sad salad sulked beneath her disinterested frame. "What, is he hideous?"
"No."
"Evil?"
"Not that I know."
"Bad hygiene?"
"He looked perfectly fine." Sakura sighed. "It's nothing in particular. I don't date."
Temari let it slide, and they finished their meal in relative silence, Sakura ignoring the glances occasionally tossed her way for the beat-up appearance she wore like a badge of abuse.
"I look pretty awful, don't I?"
Temari smirked. "Like death warmed over. I bet people wonder what goes on behind our closed door," she teased, draping her arm over her roommate's shoulders.
Sakura laughed, but felt uncomfortable. Temari was hard to read, and to Sakura, that was dangerous. She pushed the dark thoughts that tried creeping into her mind out. It was neither here or now for those remembrances.
She was brought back to the full present as Temari's arm moved off her shoulders. "Shikamaru! Hey!" She was gone, after her not-quite-significant other.
Sakura allowed a small smile to grace her lips. Hopefully, that wasn't a sign of impending sexile. For having only moved in last week, it was already becoming a pattern.
Her keys jangled as Sakura stretched, pleasantly full. Temari would be up eventually – for now, Sakura was better off returning to her room. She was aching, even if the night air was crisp and the fog and cloud coverage of the day had burned off. Stars beckoned above her head, in the moonless sky.
Everything felt soft, poised, collected. She pulled her keys out, her access card falling out of her pocket. She sighed, awkwardly bending her knees to retrieve it.
"You always were clumsy."
She froze, her hand hovering over her card. Her face in miniature smiled up at her, nervous and excited and staring off to the side, as if speaking to some unseen person. There was no excitement in her face now. Her hand trembled as she raised her face.
"Sasuke..."
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Bleck. End two. I could have lingered, but I want to start from there on the next one. I was going to pull a Kishimoto...
And then he pulled one himself so I got bratty ;D and didn't. Anywho, same old, same old, CC&C.
Shout out!
Pookie-Poo: No – much as in life, our first impressions are not always the most correct. I'm glad you enjoyed the first chapter, and I thank you for reviewing.
Sakura Neji Rules and Kakashi Sakura or Sakura Lee Maybe Even Sakura Gaara: I feel you have been ambiguous. However, I am free to interpret this ambiguity. Yes, you may join my harem. No, you don't get a pony. Only a pita. I'm on a budget here. ;D
Leiral: I am gladdened by your enthusiasm! I hope you continue to be interested, which can be hard at times, I am the first to admit. Things are a midge slow at the start, simply to set scene. Enjoy!
Jenn Jenn R: I wanted to thank you very much for your kind words. I've always wanted to set something in college (even back in highschool) because it's a more... interesting environment to work in. Ha! You noted my AN of ethnocentric. Much love to you for enjoying that word! Shikamaru Temari amuse me as a beginning because of how I've set up their relationship – honestly, how much work is Shikamaru willing to put in if he doesn't have to, and Temari, being ahead in school, might enjoy a more loose (if exclusive) relationship. It's also because it allows me to explore one of the odd things about people I've noticed - "friends with benefits". Heh. I hope you continue to read, or at least boot me in the bum if it gets annoying!
Faint Pride: Thank you so incredibly much for your review – as I have time tomorrow I'm planning on going over the first chapter, since your suggestions are spot-on. :D Thank you, thank you, thank you! It seems understated but I appreciate it so much.
