She led Naruto up to the second floor of the art building as promised into the studio she had her class in. There were a few students there working on their pieces. She led him to the corner of the room where her things were. She had looked around when they had entered to see if maybe Sasori was there, she was more curious than frightened by the news his dad was some international criminal. She knew to be careful but she wasn't as suspicious or as narrow minded as Sasuke. Just because his dad was a criminal didn't make Sasori one. She preferred to see the good in people. Uchiha were just suspicious by nature.

"It isn't done yet so don't judge it too harshly." She warned and pulled the cover off of her work.

It was a field, a battlefield. The landscape was done, open fields, a river through it, it was a valley, surrounded by high cliffs in the background. The banners of the two opposing clans fluttered in the wind, the outlines of the fighters were there, the detail of their armor and weapons yet to be completed. Cherry blossom trees were painted on the high cliffs their cherry blossoms falling over the, what would be carnage when she was finished.

"Whoa." Was all Naruto could say.

"It's um, it's different than what you usually paint Sakura. It's uh…" He couldn't find the right word, he didn't want to insult her and call it dark but...it was kinda dark.

"It's her." Came a lazy voice from behind, surprising them both.

Sakura and Naruto whipped around to find Sasori watching them with his steady amber eyes.

"Sasori!." Sakura put her hand to her chest. "You startled me." She laughed, slightly embarrassed.

Sasori didn't say anything, he just stood there looking at them, his eyes shifted to her painting.

"Hey, I'm Naruto, what did you say about Sakura's painting? It's her? What does that mean?" He asked the redhead. Maybe if Sakura heard it was dark and a little disturbing from a stranger it would make it easier.

"It means," Sasori said slowly as if talking to a small child and not another 19 year old. " That the vision depicts her reality." He said still not looking at either one of them, his eyes fastened to the painting.

"Depicts her what? That doesn't even make sense." Naruto rubbed the back of his head and frowned. He was confused. It certainly wasn't the answer he had thought the boy would say.

"Then you don't really know her," Sasori said it like it was a command instead of his opinion like it was an indisputable fact.

"I know her, we have been friends since we were six!" Naruto was getting ruffled, who did this guy think he was? Didn't know her, she may have moved away but he knew her. This guy is a jerk Naruto thought to himself.

"Sasori, that wasn't very nice, Naruto is one of my best friends. If we are in your way we will leave." She started to walk away but his voice stopped her.

"What do you see?" Sasori pointed to her painting, his amber eyes stilling her in place.

"A battlefield." She said flatly. Sasori had this way about him, it made her feel like he knew things about her that she might not know about herself as though he were watching her, it was unnerving.

"You lie." Sasori smiled then, a slow almost indecent smile. He knows it is hard to admit unwanted truths to yourself, he has many.

"Let's go Sakura, this guy is creeping me out." Naruto grabbed her hand and almost ran out the door.

Sasori didn't move as they left but stood there still looking at her painting. "I see the passion and loneliness in your heart...Sakura. We are surrounded by people and yet, we are still alone, so very alone, but not forever, not for long."

Sasori turned to his own painting then. He pulled the cover off of the canvas to reveal a woman, splattered in blood, mouth open in a scream, but not of terror, of lust and want, her arms above her head, held by invisible hands as her head, thrown back, chest pushed out as if she is struggling against her lover, hair wild behind her back, flared out and stuck to the blood on the wall behind her, pinkish white tresses stained blood red in spots.

"I see you...Sakura." He said as he picked up his brush to finish the piece. "I see you."

Naruto and Sakura waited outside of the Psyche building for his dad who was thier ride home.

"That guy is a little strange don't ya think Sakura? I mean what was that about, he is a little creepy ya know?" Naruto was saying to her.

"Yeah, a little, I don't think he meant to insult you though, it is just how he talks. He kinda reminds me of Sasuke. He doesn't think the way other people do I don't think he, he's just different is all, not a bad person though." She tried to defend Sasori, after all, he hadn't really done anything wrong. The feeling she had though when he had said it was her.

"It's her." His voice came back to her in her head.

That's what Sasori had said. It was her, and yes...she had lied.

It was her personality, her deepest secrets about herself. Of course, she had lied. The battlefield was her constant struggle to be who she wanted versus what was expected of her. The cherry blossom trees represented how the world saw her, a fragile girl who couldn't stand on her own, who needed the support of her friends and family.

The opposing warriors were the two different sides of her personality, the fighter in her, the passion, the wild versus the need for stability. The falling blossoms, her confusion on how to maintain both and still remain sane. So, of course, she had lied, that wasn't the issue. The issue was, what bothered her was, he saw what no one else could see. So clearly and had said it, so bluntly.

The truth was, she didn't know who she was now, she knew who she wanted to be but going from one point to the other, was easier said than done. Her parents were dead, they had both died in a gruesome car crash 2 months ago. She was still sorting through the house, going over legal papers, reminding herself to be strong. She wasn't a little girl anymore, she was a woman, and she needed to stand alone. None of her friends understood what she was going through, she was alone.

She didn't blame them, she knew it wasn't their fault. They had happy and healthy parents who were there for them, who were still alive. She didn't wish her misfortune on them, only a little more understanding. She didn't want sympathy, she wanted honesty. Honestly like Sasori's. It was harsh, it was bloody and brutal, but it was real. She respected him for that.

There was no hand holding, no excuses or sympathetic quirks of the mouth when he looked at her. He knew her parents had died recently, he had found her crying it the common room of the art building after class one day, in the corner. "Stop crying, it is a useless reaction, it benefits few and gets nothing done" is what he had said to her. At first, she was shocked, at first she was angry, who was this red headed asshole interfering with her grief. She had stood, her hands stiff at her side, her fists clenched ready to hit him. "Hit me." he had said, "Make me bleed." he had told her.

Sakura had collapsed in on herself at his words, had fallen back into the chair she had shot up from. He continued to stand over her, watch her, then sat beside her in the chair next to hers.

"This is not who you are, you are a warrior, act like it." a simple statement, that had a profound impact on her. She had always wanted to be a warrior. He had walked away after that leaving his email behind on a little slip of paper.

She had tried to thank him the next day in art class, he didn't say a word at her thanks, only took his canvass and moved it beside hers, took his paints and supplies, moved them by hers. They had been painting together ever since it was comforting. He was there, but he only talked if she wanted to, there were no false words between them, no extra words. He said exactly what he wanted her to hear, and she heard every word he said. With him, she didn't feel quite as, alone.