Chapter 2: In Which Konoha Holds its First Ballroom Bootcamp Ever

Optional Soundtrack: Straight to Memphis, by Club Des Belugas (Samba)


Sakura pounded her fist into the ground, splitting a yawning chasm into its surface. The aftershock rippled through the earth, sending a dozen clones careening into the sky, where they popped out of existence, not unlike overinflated balloons. The original sat crosslegged in front of her, hovering just out of her range. "Jeez, Sakura-chan. That bad?"

"No," she growled savagely. She crouched down then launched herself toward him, fist cocked. "Worse."

Naruto yelped and scrambled out of her path, while several of his clones nobly sacrificed themselves to cover his escape.

"Hey," he called from above. "Then why don't we just have a nice, therapeutic talk about it? I'm good at that, you know? Just ask Sasuke."

Sakura's eyes narrowed dangerously. Wrong move.

She unearthed a tree, whirled it through the air to pick up some momentum, then swung it at him like a flyswatter. Since the reunion of Team 7, the only reason Konoha remained hidden in the leaves was because Yamato made it his personal mission to regrow the forests every night.

"Over ramen? Please?" he pleaded uselessly.

She lobbed the tree at him, anticipating his attempt to dodge, and punted him clear across the field.

"DAMN IT! WHY DO I ALWAYS HAVE TO CLEAN UP AFTER THAT BASTARD?!"


Sakura shifted closer to Sasuke, who stood facing her, gently clasping her right hand within his left. In an alternate universe where they were madly in love or even just friendly strangers, this might not have been such a bad place for her right hand to be. But as it happened, they were in their usual universe, just having a dance lesson. And her palms were sweating.

"We'll start with rumba, which will serve as the technical foundation for your other four dances."

Sakura, the follow, stood in front of Sasuke, the lead, her left hand resting delicately near his shoulder, right by the very defined line of his deltoid. His right arm was under her left, with his hand placed right under her shoulder blade. Miyuki adjusted her shoulders, her arms, and even the placement of each of her fingers on his arm, straightening some and curling others. The goal was to make it look less like she was holding on for dear life. Miyuki did not need to fix the Great Sasuke Uchiha, Dark Avenger Extroardinaire.

During this process, Yuzuru droned on and on about the rumba:

"The rumba is the slowest and most romantic of the latin dances, so judges will expect the most body action simply because you have the most time. It is danced to music with a four-four time, with an emphasis on the four-and-one. By that, I mean that in general, you take a step on the two and another step on the three, but you use the entirety of the four-and-one to take just one step. You fill up that time by delaying your weight transfer, keeping your weight split between your feet as you move forward beginning with your ribcage, your knee, your foot, and then finally your hips, like so: foooouuuur and one, two, three, foooooouuur and one, two, three, foooooouuur and one, two, three, fooooouuuuur and one, two, three, foooooouuuuur and one, two, three, fooooooooooouuuuuuur and one, two, three…"

After a few measures, Miyuki motioned for them to try it, too.

"Don't worry," she whispered to Sakura, who was getting rather sick of the phrase, "Sasuke-san already knows his part perfectly. Follow his lead, relax, and just feel the movement of his hips through the connection in your hands."

Then Sasuke took a step to the side, and to her surprise, the shifting of his hips as he transferred his weight was actually rather easy to feel, his movements slightly exaggerated by his Cuban heels.


"Hang on," said Naruto, cackling. "The bastard's wearing heels?"

Sakura smiled in spite of herself. "Yeah, that's actually kinda funny. Or it would be. It doesn't seem to bother him, and he never trips up. It just makes him look even taller."

"What?!" cried Naruto. "He doesn't even look stupid in heels?!"

"No, the swishy black dance pants usually hide them. And it's not like he's wearing stilettos or something."

"Damn. Maybe I can find him some official shinobi body glitter…"

Well, Naruto was nothing if not persistent.

"I hope you do. Now will you please hold still? I can't fix your ribs when you keep squirming and laughing and talking all the time."


They spent the whole morning on their rumba basics. More accurately, they worked on Sakura's basics. They worked on open position, where they were farther apart and Sasuke just held her right hand. They worked on having just the right amount of tone in her arm, so that it was relaxed but not limp. They worked on having her move her free arm delicately, so that it followed the motion of her ribcage and so that she lead the movements with a graceful elbow and followed through with elegant fingers, slightly more like a ballerina and lot less like a bar brawler.

The thing that Sakura struggled with the most was just walking, because it wasn't really walking. She could never let her feet completely leave the floor, dragging the pads of her toes across the floor and always keeping her toes turned out. She had to lead each step with her knee, leaving most of her weight on her stationary leg, so that as one knee went forward, her opposite butt cheek moved back. It was a lot to ask of someone. And even when she thought she finally got the hang of it, Miyuki just clicked her tongue.

"I can see the light of day between your thighs," she said, punctuating her statement with a gusty sigh. "The point of latin dancing is to leave your audience entranced, to make them desire the opportunity to discover what's between your legs." Sakura's cheeks flushed, but Miyuki continued ruthlessly. "It defeats the purpose if you just show everyone right off the bat."

Then she produced a strip of paper and had Sakura hold it between her thighs, centimeters from her crotch.

"This shredded piece of paper is what remains of your dignity." She declared. "Now try dancing again, but do NOT lose your dignity this time."

Sasuke committed the absolutely unforgivable sin of smirking at her.

Once Miyuki was satisfied that they had completely soaked up their rumba crash course, they took a break for Yuzuru and Miyuki to do a short demonstration of some advanced figures they would actually need for the competition.

When they danced, Sakura completely forgot they were mother and son, which was definitely weird but mostly impressive. For a few minutes, all she saw was the tumultuous love story that played out in front of her. Sometimes the woman stepped back, only for the man to tug her right back in, drawing her closer on the next step. But he never let her stay too close. Whenever she came back to him, within moments, he was pushing her away, ambivalence clear in both of their steps.

Beside her, Sasuke's eyes burned red, and she knew he was already internalizing the steps, rearranging them and modifying them in his mind. And for the first time, Sakura wondered if two weeks was going to be enough to whip her into shape. Unlike Sasuke, she couldn't simply activate the Sharingan and instantly dance just as well as professionals who had devoted their entire lives to ballroom dancing.


"Stupid Sharingan," spat Naruto, ever loyal. "He's so OP."

Sakura healed the last of the contusions on Naruto's abdomen, then stepped back to give him a once-over. "OP?"

"Overpowered. The gamers at that convention I spoke at last week use it all the time," he informed her. "Did you know they're making a video game about me? It's called Ultimate Ninja. Cool, right?"

"Quite," she said, not at all jealous.


"Relax," hissed Sasuke. "Tensing up like that just makes it worse."

They were working on the paso doble, a dance meant to mimic bullfighting in some obscure nation. In this dance, Sasuke was a bullfighter, all powerful lines and effortless agility. Sakura was alternately the cape he flaunted and the bull that was unsuccessfully trying to maul him. At the moment, she identified more with the bull role: his natural superiority was a lot less charming than she remembered from their genin days, and a whole lot more irritating.

Sakura scowled. "Then you relax. I'm only tense because you are."

That wasn't really true. She was tense more because the dance was just weird. While rumba had seemed unnatural, it was really just a matter of letting certain leg muscles go strategically limp at the right times. The paso, however, was truly unnatural. Since it was a like a bullfight, they had to hold themselves with their knees slightly bent and their butts tucked in, as if a bull could sneak up behind them at any moment and impale their butts. This meant their pelvises were thrust awkwardly forward all time and it felt kind of stupid.

Otherwise, it was a fun dance, with lots of aggression and sharp movements and stomping. And if she got frustrated and frowned a little, she got congratulated for staying true to the character of the dance. Sasuke was good at the stern face thing, too.

It was not until they finally started working on the jive that Miyuki and Yuzuru had any sort of constructive criticism for Sasuke. Jive, Yuzuru had explained, was very fast and the most athletically demanding of the dances. In a competition setting, some couples were great dancers, but got weeded out simply because they didn't have the stamina for consecutive rounds of jive. Not only was it fast, but it had a more playful character, so it was important to make it look effortless and fun. Naturally, Sasuke had no trouble making it look effortless because to him, it was. The fun part was the problem.

So Yuzuru suggested he focus on childhood memories of time spent with his family, or with his best friends. Sasuke very sensibly did not dwell on the topic of his family. Instead, Sakura was pretty sure he thought about Naruto because he produced a rather vicious smirk. Miyuki assured him that it had a thrilling bad boy air and was very sexy, but it did not quite capture the mood they were going for.

For a moment, Sakura entertained hopes that the emotionally constipated golden boy might fail to deliver for once. But Sasuke just nodded curtly, restarted the music, and danced it again with a perfect, charmingly boyish grin.

Miyuki and Yuzuru were in raptures over him, excited about the all the hearts he was inevitably going to steal at the next competition. Then they asked Sakura if she could try to match his enthusiasm because her smile looked rather forced in comparison.


"Huh," mused Kakashi, "He grins? I don't recall teaching him that. I guess I'm just a natural when it comes to this rehabilitation stuff…"

"You're late," snapped Sakura. "And I don't recall you ever teaching anything."

Kakashi ruffled her hair affectionately. "I give the Godaime full credit for your bad attitude. Good thing you're so adorable when you're angry, I'm willing to overlook the fact that you two went on vacation and threw me under the bus."

Naruto looked up from his ramen and gasped. "Sakura-chan! But those who abandon their teammates are trash!"

"No," said Kakashi, patient as a saint, "they're worse than trash, Naruto. Would you believe it? She and Tsunade conspired to saddle me with decades of work. The paperwork is so backlogged, I just approved the proposal to build the ninja academy."

Naruto cocked his head to the side, confused. "Then why are you doing it? If none of our predecessors have ever done it, I'm not going to, either."

"Hmm." Kakashi nodded sagely. The boy had a point. "I suppose it would be unwise to mess with generations of tradition while the real Hokage escapes to the hospital for a vacation, and her apprentice—"

"This is no vacation, and you know it," Sakura interrupted, snarling. "You knew Sasuke-kun was assigned to this mission all along!"

"Naturally," said Kakashi. "I assigned him, too."

"Hold up!" Naruto threw up his hands in disbelief. "You made Sakura do this? You're both trash!"

"Worse than trash," corrected Kakashi.

"Get it right, " added Sakura.


"How about this one?" Yuzuru held up a one-shoulder dress, made entirely of electric blue fringe on flesh-colored mesh. "I'm afraid we can't let you use any of Yuna's newer costumes, they were custom-made and would definitely be recognized."

"Oh, I don't mind," said Sakura. There were several dozen dresses laid out before her, constructed from various combinations of fringe, strategically placed illusion netting, Swarovski crystals, marabou feathers, and a frightening absence of fabric. "Really. Never in my wildest dreams have I ever imagined wearing dresses like these."

Not even in her nightmares, in fact.

That said, the dresses really weren't all that bad—certainly nothing worse than the things her fellow kunoichi had been known to wear, just sparklier and rufflier; eye-catching.

"Yuzuru-san, I need to look the part of world-class dancer. What would stand out the least?" she asked. The she remembered she was supposed to be able to think like a world-class dancer, too. "I take that back, what would stand out the most?

"Honestly?" Yuzuru asked. He clicked his tongue in a manner reminiscent of his mother, scanning the options. Then he picked up a jewel-encrusted bra and a matching micro-mini tube skirt, with something pale pink, sheer, and fluttery artfully draped over it all. "You know, I don't think she ever got a chance to wear this one. She commissioned it last year for our honor dance—it's tradition to perform one when you win—but the runner-up couple got into such a row, they had to evacuate the ballroom. I think the follow had a bomb or a gun or something. It doesn't usually get that bad, most times fighting couples just smack each other or have screaming matches."

"Ah," said Sakura, eyeing the dress. If all dancers wore dresses like this, how on earth had a civilian managed to hide a bomb? Not everybody had skills like Tenten.

Yuzuru was still talking when it occurred to her that she should pay attention. "I think that's partially why nobody is taking this case seriously, we've developed such a melodramatic reputation over the past few years, it's downright tame for a follow to just walk out on her lead and disappear." He passed her the dress. "Try it on. If it fits, you should give it a test run this afternoon."

Unfortunately, it fit perfectly. And it matched her hair.


"Wait, I thought we were talking about why this mission sucks," said Naruto. "That sounds great!"

Sakura glared, then took a swig straight from the jug.

"It's not great," said Sai, as if surprised by Naruto's dimness, "because she's ugly. "

"Oh dear." Kakashi flipped the page of his book. "It's not good to get so drunk, Sai. You might say things you really don't mean."

"But I'm not drunk," Sai said flatly, "I meant it."

"No," Naruto shook his head, nervously watching Sakura as she upended the empty jug to make sure she hadn't missed any rogue droplets. "No, you didn't."

Kakashi and Naruto were visibly relieved when Sakura didn't seem to hear and simply slurred on.


Miyuki was thrilled when Sakura came out in the dress. She had sketched the design herself. Evidently, she was a multitalented woman, the paragon of womanly virtue.

"Sakura-san, you're soooo gorgeous! And so sexy, I don't know how any men can resist your womanly charms," she simpered.

Sakura laughed elegantly. "Oh, Miyuki-san, I don't know either."

Miyuki elbowed Sasuke. "Yeah, what's wrong with you? Bow down to your queen, you fool."

Sasuke glowered at her, barely sparing Sakura a glance. "Why? I'm not interested in her, even though I know she's still madly in love with me for no good reason."

"Why not?!" asked Miyuki, genuinely confused.

"Hn." He snorted. "I only have eyes for Naruto."


"Eh," said Naruto. "Are you sure that actually happened, Sakura-chan?"

Kakashi casually patted him on the head with enough force to send him face-first into his bowl of ramen.

"Ignore him, Sakura," he said kindly. "Please, continue."


Miyuki looked disappointed. "Really?"

"Really," said Sasuke. "That guy's the closest thing I've ever had to a lover."

"Liar," sneered Sakura. "What about Orochimaru?"

"Tch. I gave him my body, never my heart."


"Actually," said Kakashi, "maybe that's enough of that, Sakura." Sasuke's defection in favor of Orochimaru's questionable tutelage had always been a bit of a sore point for Kakashi.

"Ok," agreed Sakura with surprising ease. "I know! Let's cha-cha! No, wait, I'll teach you all the samba, it's perfect because we're all drunk—"

"But I'm not drunk," said Sai.

"—and Yuzuru said the samba is like drunken waltzing!"

Naruto hesitated a moment, then decided not to point out that she'd spent the whole evening trying to convince him she hated dancing. "But Sakura-chan, I don't know how to waltz."

Sakura gave his chest an irritated poke. "So?" She poked him again. "Nobody does."

"Actually," said Kakashi, "I do."

"Nobody does," said Sakura, again.

She dragged Kakashi to his feet and stood him in front of Naruto, then arranged their arms around each other.

"Dance position," she explained.

She stepped back to study them, and considered them a moment before nodding her approval.

"Now do what I do!"

Then she realized that since they were facing each other, if she wanted to stand in front of one, she had to stand behind the other. The problem, then, was that they could never both see her. But Sakura had always been rather quick-witted, so she soon solved the problem by inserting herself between them and barking out instructions and counts.

And that was how Sasuke found them half an hour later: Naruto was trying to roll his hips properly while Sakura just kept repeating some nonsense about imagining his butt was cupped within a giant spoon. Kakashi was present in body but certainly not in spirit, with his book propped on Naruto's shoulder but safely behind Sakura's head, out of her line of sight. (Incidentally, Naruto never sold Kakashi out, proving himself the only person on Team 7 who wasn't trash, or worse.) And Sai was on the sidelines, impassively documenting the whole spectacle.

"Tch."

Sasuke took in the situation, having just completed an extra D-rank mission to charge some kid's night light for the evening. Sakura had Team 7 whipped, as usual.

"This isn't what you think!" Naruto burst out. "We're not coercing Sakura-chan into having an illicit threesome with us while she's drunk."

"We probably could, though," Kakashi mused.

Sasuke sighed, infinitely glad that he hadn't actually gone through and executed Tsunade. He liked the practical, straightforward woman far more than he had expected, which was a pity because sometimes he had the sneaking suspicion she hated him. And as long as she reigned supreme, it meant that neither of these fools was in a position to destroy the village Itachi had sacrificed so much to protect. Yet.

"That's not what I thought, idiot." He held out his hand. "Sakura."

Sakura extricated herself and obediently slipped her hand into his. It was probably due more to force of habit from their ballroom bootcamp than to any lingering romantic attachment. After all, one generally gave up more and more rights to a girl's undying love with each subsequent rejection, with bonus points for those that involved murder attempts.

"I'm taking her home," he said, ignoring Naruto's kissy faces and Kakashi's smugly raised eyebrows. "We have a mission in the morning, unlike you."

"It's ok," Naruto stage-whispered to Kakashi and Sai. "He's just jealous he didn't get in on any action."

Sai looked doubtfully at Sasuke and Sakura's receding silhouettes. "If that was action, he spends all day getting it."


The next morning found Sakura trying to blink away a colossal hangover. Tsunade definitely had a jutsu to take care of these sorts of things, but there was no way she was going to go crawling to her for it, not after all the times she'd tried to convince her master to cut back a little. Although if she did, she suspected Tsunade would probably be somewhat proud. She might even give her a raise to fund an alcohol habit…

Oops. She remembered, with a jolt, that Miyuki was still talking.

"…being the most basic, is a good choice for your showdance. To expedite your learning, we've given you routines for all five dances, but in theory, you should be able to dance them spontaneously, using lead-and-follow as a team rather than relying on pure memorization of predetermined choreography." She looked pointedly at Sasuke. "Floorcraft, being able to navigate around the other couples, is essential. The lead must be able to predict the trajectories of the other couples and know instinctively which steps he could use to evade traffic, while still conforming to the proper timing and technique. The follow, in turn, must be able to react instantly and effortlessly."

Sakura nodded to show she was paying attention.

"Floorcraft is no longer as important during the showdance. Because only the finalists perform their showdances, only one couple is on the floor at a time. The goal is no longer just to demonstrate your technical skill, but to demonstrate your ability to entertain. So it is expected to be a routine, and you are allowed to include elements that are not otherwise allowed, like lifts."

Sakura nodded again to confirm she was still paying attention.

"So taking your personalities—Sasuke, aloof but intense, and Sakura, emotional and expressive—into account, we choreographed this rumba for you."

Miyuki started up a song, then walked slowly to the center of the floor, where Yuzuru stood with his back to her. She reached for him, but her fingers had barely brushed his shoulder when he shrugged her off, never even looking at her. Sakura caught some of the lyrics, noticing with some discomfort that the song was about unrequited love and metaphorical wounds that kept bleeding. Meanwhile, Miyuki had circled in front of Yuzuru and lifted a hand to his cheek. He leaned into it slightly, almost imperceptibly, then suddenly grabbed her hand and tore it from his face, but did not let go of it. This, Sakura recognized, was almost open dance position, and probably marked the transition from their opening into the main substance of the dance.

It wasn't. Yuzuru dropped the hand he had held just a touch too long, turned, and began to walk away while Miyuki stared longingly at his back. When she finally chased after him, pressing her cheek to his back while she hugged him, Sakura felt something in her chest tighten and twist at the familiarity of the scene. If simply watching the dance was uncomfortable, actually practicing and performing it with Sasuke would be torturous. The warmth of his back, her vision flooded with the red and white of the Uchiha fan, the scent of—

"No."

Sakura turned to Sasuke, surprised to see a muscle jump in his cheek, a telltale sign he was clenching his jaw. Miyuki and Yuzuru stopped.

"No," Sasuke repeated firmly. "For the success of this mission, I don't think rumba is the best choice."

"I agree," Sakura jumped in, gratefully backing him up. "I appreciate the work you have put into this dance, but we are shinobi. Competing against trained professionals like yourselves, it would be imprudent to pick a dance that highlights our ability to emote, when others can certainly do it better. Our biggest advantage is our physical capabilities: our speed and stamina."

"Ah," Yuzuru murmured thoughtfully, "so you think jive would be best for you two."

"Yes," said Sakura.

Miyuki nodded. "It has some merit. Being the fastest dance, if your technique is imperfect, which it won't be, it will be harder to notice during jive, while it would be unforgivable in the rumba."

"Definitely," said Sakura.

She had decided to arbitrarily agree with any reasons they came up with to support her plan.

"We should pick a song that's just a touch faster than what normal professionals can manage," Miyuki continued, muttering to herself.

"Sounds great," said Sakura.

Yuzuru smiled and motioned for Sasuke and Sakura to join them on the floor. "We'll be a little behind schedule, but I think we can do it. Let's just jump right in."

And for the first time, when Sasuke offered her his hand before leading her onto the floor, she gave his hand a small squeeze. He kept his gaze straight ahead, but she saw the corner of his mouth curl upward into a slight smile.


A/N: I finally see what all the fuss is about with wanting reviews. Every time I got an email about a favorite, follow, or review, it kinda made my day. So, thanks everyone!

Somebody commented about the title, but I really can't take credit. It's adapted from a quote by George Bernard Shaw that is well-known enough to be misquoted and misattributed. As a result, I'm not quite sure what the real quote is.

Also, true story: Bruce Lee was a cha cha champion.