"Are you sure about this, Sakura-chan?" a certain blond-haired, knucklehead ninja asked as he watched his teammate strap on her weapon holster, confidence emanating through every pore of her small body.

"For the umpteenth time," she growled, angrily rolling her eyes, "I am sure."

"But Sakura-chan—!" The words of protest died in his throat as the young woman raised her head to glare at him.

"I thought we had already established that I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself," she spoke in a low voice that, although calm, failed to conceal her annoyance. "Please let me know if I was wrong, so that I can prove it to you once more."

Naruto paled. "N—no, Sakura-chan!" He gulped, frantically shaking his head. "You can take care of yourself."

Sakura nodded, satisfied with his answer. "I thought as much."

Not that she would have had a problem with demonstrating her strength, but the village they currently found themselves in was small, and gossip spread rather quickly; having a blond-haired man slammed through a wall would most definitely alert their target—and thus damage their mission beyond repair.

But it seemed like a week spent in the hospital—in the intensive care unit—had taught Naruto his lesson.

"But I still don't like this, Sakura-chan! I really, really don't!"

…Or maybe not.

"Naruto!" she snapped.

"I know, I know," he waved her off, "You can take care of yourself. I don't doubt that. The thing is… This is Sasuke-teme we're talking about!"

"And…?" she trailed off expectantly.

"And we promised we'd bring him back together!"

"And we will bring him back together," she assured him. "Only this time, I will be the one to do the convincing."

Naruto decided that he really didn't like the smug look that spread on her features and the way her eyes glimmered with mischief.

"Don't worry," she said. "The worst thing that can happen is for me to come back with no Uchiha on my trail."

"But I don't get it!" he whined, plopping down on one of the twin beds. "How are you going to convince him? Last time we met he didn't even spare us a second glance, much less listen to what we had to say! At least I can scream after him if the bastard tries to run away or something!"

Sakura rolled her eyes. "I think we've done enough of screaming and chasing after him. It's time to try a different approach."

"And what's that?" he asked warily.

"I will try to discuss this matter with him," she replied simply.

Naruto scoffed. "And have him grunt at you?"

"Naruto," she whined, resisting the urge to childishly stomp her foot. "I know you're worried—about both of us—but guess what? That is exactly how I feel every time you two go off and try to kill each other with your stupid Rasengan and Chidori and God knows what other techniques you've perfected just for that—for the moment when you two would meet and let your anger out on one another. But I've grown sick and tired of standing aside and simply watching. It's my turn. And I'm gonna do things my way."

"But you can't just ask me to stay out of this!" he whined back.

Sakura rolled her eyes. "Actually, I could," she replied pointedly, memories of how many times they had forgotten about her as they grew more and more engrossed in their fights flashing before her eyes.

It had been six years—three since he had completed his revenge and killed his brother, and ever since then, Team Kakashi had been on his trail. Time and time again, they found him, sometimes even stumbled upon him out of pure coincidence, but they always ended up coming back home empty-handed. For some reason that was unknown to them all, Uchiha Sasuke refused to return to Konoha, and there was little other than chasing after him that his old friends could do.

Hopefully, though—she reminded herself—she would be able to melt down some of his walls tonight. At least enough to make sure he was alright and content with the life he had chosen, because Sakura had long since promised herself that, despite the feelings she still harbored for him, she would let him go if he found happiness in another place, with some other friends and another woman. She was no longer foolish enough to believe that her childhood fantasy had any chances of becoming reality.

But maybe she would be enough to bring him home. That was one hope she did not want to give up on—at least not yet.

With a sigh, the pinkette attempted to reassure her teammate that everything would be alright. She might not be able to promise him that Sasuke would be coming back to Konoha with them, but at least she was comforted by the thought that there would be no bloody injuries for her to heal this time.

"I'm not going to ask you to stay out of this," she said. "You can guard the exits if you want." She paused for a moment, before adding, more to herself than to her blond teammate, "Although I highly doubt he will try to flee the moment he sees me."

"Eh?" he perked up, blue eyes shining with innocent curiosity. "Why do you say that? What are you going to do?"

Behind him, face half-hidden behind his ever-present orange book, Kakashi smirked, the corner of his visible eye crinkling. He had obviously figured out what his female student had in mind, and Sakura fleetingly wondered if what she saw in his expression was pride.

Regardless, she answered Naruto before he could get any louder, "I'm gonna use his weakness against him."

Naruto blinked. "Eh?! What weakness? And why didn't I know about it?!"

Sakura smirked. "The reason why you don't know about it, Naruto, is because you aren't supposed to."

"What does that mean?!"

"It means that you will have to figure it out on your own, because she refuses to tell you," Kakashi answered easily.

"But—"

"See you later, Naruto," the pinkette said, slinging her backpack over her shoulder as she headed towards the door. "Keep an eye on those gates for me, will you?"

Nineteen-year-old Uchiha Sasuke heaved a sigh as he watched his teammates fool around, fighting once again over a matter that he had not managed to grasp yet. Ever since they decided to stick to his side after he'd made it clear that Team Taka no longer existed, he was having quite a hard time understanding them.

He had never considered them to be his friends—comrades at best—so there was no denying the fact that he had been surprised when they announced they would follow him to the end of the world; they would do it for their own selfish purposes, but they would follow him.

The surprise had grown even larger when the young Uchiha realized that he was not bothered in the least by the thought of having to spend more time in their presence. He now figured it was because their decision had caught him in a rare moment of weakness, when he felt rather lonely and the prospect of spending the rest of his life without somebody by his side looked particularly daunting, because boy, were they annoying!

Suigestu did nothing more but complain, and when Karin wasn't trying to force her way into his pants, the two of them were fighting. The only one in the group who was alright by Sasuke's standards was Juugo, even though his silent nature could sometimes grow to be quite disturbing.

At least he could trust him to tell the others that he had left—preferably before Karin concluded that a woman had abducted him and went on a killing spree around the village.

Slamming enough money on the counter to pay for their consummation, he stood and swiftly made his way out of the bar, the action going completely unnoticed by his still bickering teammates.

Outside, it was snowing heavily, harder than it had been when they first arrived into town, two days before; he had barely taken three steps away from the protective cover of the doorway, and his coat was already covered in a light dusting of snowflakes. In the past, he could have cared less about the weather, but lately, he was surprised to find himself rather attuned to it, his mood changing along with the natural phenomena. Right now, he was sullen. Sullen and annoyed. There were times like these when he missed Konoha—with its mild winters and few precipitations.

Sasuke had never quite liked snow.

Sakura bit her lip as she stared at her reflection in the mirror, hesitance and unease shining brightly in her green eyes. The confidence she had displayed earlier, when she more or less presented her plan to her team, seemed to have left her.

When the idea first popped into her head—the result of a sleepless night after another failed mission—she had thought it was brilliant. She still thought it was brilliant. The only problem was… well, herself.

She should have shared her thoughts with Tsunade and told her to send Ino for the job, because she surely wouldn't be contemplating running away right now, too damn afraid of rejection to be able to think straight. Knowing Ino, that thought wouldn't have even crossed her mind. But then again, it wasn't Ino in this precarious position, but Sakura. Billboard brow with a wild temper and a terrible inferiority complex.

"Although I highly doubt he will try to flee the moment he sees me."

Right. As though Sasuke hadn't already proved she meant absolutely nothing to him. He could probably have any woman he wanted, so why would he even glance at her? She must be some masochist, because really, who else would seek pain like that?

Sasuke would flee. And he would tell her to get the hell out of his sight. And she would go home to Konoha nursing yet another wound, covered from head to toe in shame, so that when her old teammate did return, she wouldn't even be able to look at him in the eye.

Closing her eyes, she tried to take in a deep breath and regain control over her emotions. She had learned to subdue them over the years, and she simply could not afford to fail now, of all the times.

This would be another try. Another try to bring him home. If it failed, then it failed. But the question with Sasuke always was: what if it succeeded?

Perhaps Sakura knew little about life; perhaps she still had so much more to learn. Sasuke may be right, she couldn't understand much. But if there was something she knew for sure, that was that she would do anything for him. Every risk was worth taking if it involved him.

With that in mind, she reopened her eyes, taking in her reflection and the steely resolve visible in them.

This was it. Her turn had come.

"Alright, Sasuke. You wanted to play games. We'll play games. But this time, we'll play by my rules."

And she would make it count.

The hotel room was dark and cold when Sasuke set food inside it later that night. He hadn't expected it to be any different; that was what every room he had stepped in over the past six years had been. He took off his cloak and threw it on a nearby armchair, uncaring of the snowflakes that had soaked through it.

His brows furrowed and his body tensed when his acute senses picked up a slight change in the atmosphere of the room, but after extending his chakra and not managing to detect anything unusual, he relaxed. Nobody knew where he was. It had been such a long time since anybody managed—or cared enough—to pick up on his trail that Sasuke could say he could almost sleep peacefully at night. He had completely disappeared from everybody's radar, and since he no longer made a habit out of getting in trouble or bothering the wrong people, they seemed to have either forgotten about him or decided not to scorn his anger once again.

It was a good feeling. He felt free, in a way. Free from his present—not quite from his past, though.

Sighing, he stripped off his weapons and laid them on the nightstand, having every intention of taking a shower and then slipping under the covers to get a good night of rest. He would see what tomorrow would bring when it would come.

He was just leaning his prized katana against the wall when the room was suddenly bathed in her presence, the signature of her chakra suddenly there, enveloping him and everything around them.

With lightening speed only he could possess, he turned around.

Then he promptly froze, every muscle in his body locking. His lungs stopped functioning, but his jaw was slack and his mouth dropped open slightly.

There she was, standing in the doorway of the bathroom, green, hypnotic eyes staring straight into his, dressed in the sheerest, most provocative white garment he had ever laid eyes on and a pair of panties that barely left anything to the imagination.

Taking a step back, Sasuke squeezed his eyes shut and then popped them open again. It was not to say that he did not know how to hold his liquor, but sometimes, he and alcohol didn't get along very well. So maybe he was hallucinating.

But she was still there, grinning now, her pink hair a sexy mess as it tumbled over her back and shoulders.

His eyes widened.

"What's wrong?" she asked, and that voice was not hers. He did not remember his teammate ever purring like that.

He was completely flabbergasted. Sasuke could handle the most dangerous S-rank criminals in battle, he could face Uchiha Madara, look at him in the eye and defy him, but this—Sakura—lowered all his defenses and rendered him to a spluttering blob of tension.

Straightening, a smile still on her face, she began to walk confidently, alluringly in his direction, wrapping a lock of pink hair around her finger as she gazed at him, seductively biting down on her lower lip. She had to look up at him, he was a full head taller than her, but the way her green eyes shone instantly made him realize that he was under her control, and not the other way around.

"It should be illegal for someone to look as good as you do," she whispered, reaching up to touch his face.

Sasuke stumbled back, and with a grin on her face, she placed both hands on his chest and pushed him down on the bed, not even giving him time to react as she clambered on top of him, settling on his lap. He looked up at her, his mouth open, his mind unable to form sentences, unable to do anything but stare.

She was gorgeous, make-up darkening her gleaming eyes, the little light that came from outside casting shadows upon her face, the white material of her clothing of choice complementing her pale skin tone, her pink hair, her smooth skin.

Was he dreaming? Had he drunk too much?

She leaned over him then, her hair falling around their heads like a curtain, and her soft, familiar perfume enveloped him, transferring him back to another place, another time, another life.

He wanted to stop her, to push her away, to tell her to get the fuck off him and leave him alone. But most importantly, he wanted to find out just what the hell she thought she was doing. How could she put on something like that and not feel like she was doing something wrong? How could she climb on top of him and not feel like she was breaking every rule? Because she was. Sasuke could feel it clearly, running through his every vein.

"Cat got your tongue?" she whispered seductively, nibbling lightly on his jaw.

The Uchiha opened his mouth to speak, but she stopped him.

"Doesn't matter," she said as she straightened, pink hair flying backwards with the movement. "I'm tired of talking."

It was wrong. It wasn't anywhere on his radar. It wasn't supposed to happen, wasn't the slightest bit planned, was so surprising and out of the ordinary, coming from Sakura, that his entire body locked up and his mind froze completely, along with his judgment. But of all the wrong turns he had taken in his life, this seemed to be the one that promised most. This seemed to be the one he truly had no control over—the one where he had no choice at all.

So when she lowered her lips upon his, he allowed her. It was only when he made the conscious decision of surrendering to her, only when it was too late, that his muscles decided to unlock.

Nothing would ever be the same after this, and his mind, as clouded as it was with the alcohol and with her presence, knew exactly in what way it would affect him and in what decisions it would sway him.

And he discovered… he didn't quite have it in him to care.

A/N: Merry Christmas, everybody!

Light reading. Speechless Sasuke. Fun. Haha!

I hope you're all enjoying your holidays!

Please review!