AN: Naruto belongs to Masashi Kishimoto
– 外で。
Her earliest memory of him was of green eyes in the early morning light the day before the chuunin exams.
The sun had yet to break through the thick cover of night, the sky painted a deep indigo. Sakura had been unable to rest, her stomach churning uncomfortably with emotions brought on by the approaching test. It had been around midnight after much tossing and turning in bed that she'd given up on all thoughts of sleep, opting to sit outside on the balcony. Wrapped in a thick patchwork quilt, she leaned against the stone wall with her knees pulled tightly to her chest. The moon had still been visible and a few stars shone against the velvet backdrop of the late (or early?) hour but Sakura knew they'd soon vanish with the rising of the sun, wiping away any reminders of the night. Sakura's breath wisped as it left her, the temperature still a bit chilly. Spring had settled in but the cold of winter seemed reluctant to leave. Goosebumps formed where the cooler air brushed against her skin. The gentle breeze ruffling strands of her long pink hair which took on a darkened fuschia hue under the moons light.
Sakura's mouth set into a grim line, eyes vacant as her thoughts wandered into dangerous territory. Sasuke. The boy had grown cold as of late, the expectations of greatness automatically placed upon him as the last honorable Uchiha pushing him to his limits. He was putting distance between himself and his teammates. He came to training early - his upbringing as clan heir wouldn't allow for impunctuality - and left in the same fashion. He turned down invitations to lunch offered up by both herself and Naruto. When she had been able to gather the courage to even approach him he'd given her this look and walked away, his hands in his pockets and shoulders slumped as if all the weight of the world had been forced upon him. That was the worst. That he could just look at her and make her feel stupid and naïve and insignificant… She almost hated him for it. Almost.
Even Naruto had noticed Sasuke's odd behaviour. The blonde had taken it upon himself to increase the level of stupidity with which he acted, hoping to aggravate a response out of the other boy. He'd become so much more annoying that simply being around him had become unbearable for Sakura. Normally Sasuke would put Naruto in his place or blow up or something but Sasuke no longer took the bait, ignoring the hyperactive blonde completely.
This worried her. With the examinations but a few hours away and growing closer still, she had every right to be worried. Team seven wouldn't survive the next couple of days if they didn't get their act together. Shinobi operated as a team – their lives depended on teamwork, dammit!
Her thoughts shifted to her other teammate. Uzumaki Naruto. The boy, while not the sharpest crayon in the box, was the most determined and hardworking person she'd ever met. Sakura could remember their Academy days, back when she only ever saw him as a nuiscance. Back then all he'd ever been was a problem-child, the orphan with no discipline; no talents to speak of. How wrong had she been. Sure he was troublesome at best, but talentless? Naruto couldn't be any further from it. With a seemingly never ending supply of energy and chakra, the boy was a powerhouse. His only real flaw was his naïveity. Naruto was still so enamoured by the notion of fame and glory that he didn't understand – or didn't want to understand (?) – that this lifestyle was no longer a game. It never had been. Sakura wondered if either boy was truly ready for the dangers a raise in rank would provide. She wondered if she was ready.
She wasn't ready.
She wasn't ready for the responsibilities that would be thrust upon her, wasn't yet ready to leave behind her childish notions of a fairytale romance and second chances. The life of a ninja didn't allow for second chances. There would be no do-overs, no better luck next times. If she screwed up just once she could very well find herself lying in a ditch on the side of a road somewhere. Dead. The wings of the butterflies in her stomach beat painfully against her insides and her mouth dried. She could die – and for what? Meager pay and a collection of ugly scars? Sakura had to scoff at that, imagining an older, jaded version of herself sitting in a dark tavern, drunk off her ass and battle hardened. Her features would be disfigured and her clothes blood stained and torn. The image shifted to one of her lying facedown, drowning in a pool of her own blood, her comrades – friends, she corrected herself – lay slain around her.
Sakura's brow furrowed in worry. Surely she wasn't stupid enough to want such a fate?
No. She didn't want it.
She needed it.
I'm crazy.
She needed to do this. She had felt the strong need to protect from an early age and these feelings had been the deciding factor in regards to her enrollment into the Academy. She wasn't strong enough to protect anyone or anything on her own, not in a world so battle worn and dangerous as the one she lived in. As a child, she'd been criticised and ridiculed, unable to stand up for herself because of she was weak. She was still weak. This was why she hated bullies and the fact that rogue ninja were nothing but big bullies fueled her drive to become stronger so that she could stand agaisnt them to protect those too weak to protect themselves. Money didn't matter to her and never had, so meager pay for a day of honest work suited Sakura fine. She would rather die than live in a world where bullies ruled. She had to go through with this, had to rise through the ranks of shinobi in order to fulfill her dreams. So even if she wasn't ready, she would go to battle with her head held high because when would she really ever be ready if not now?
Besides, Kakashi-sensei thought they were skilled enough for the rank of chuunin. That was a reassuring thought.
Sakura stood just as the sun began to peek through the horizon, her quilt slipping from her shoulders exposing her to the cool of the early morning. She bent to pick up the fallen blanket and folded it over her forearm as she reached for her now cold cup of tea. Straightening, she stared into the depths of the half-empty mug with a thoughtful expression. Stifling yawn, she wondered if her teammates had had any luck sleeping last night. She knew from the tired circles underneath Sasuke's eyes and the increased droop in their teacher's visible eye that both had been having troubles sleeping over the past week. The restless two and a half hours that she had gotten had deffinately not been enough. It had been then, while she was pondering over the sleep deprivation of her team, that he'd fallen from the sky.
Literally.
Her knees buckled under the unexpected impact, her legs giving away beneath the added weight. She made a small strangled sound of surprise as the floor flew up from under her and into her face. Her nose made a frightening crunching noise and pain exploded everywhere as her face smacked against the concrete. Black splotches blossomed in her eyes, the tears that formed blurring her already impaired vision. Sakura cursed herself. What kind of ninja allowed this sort of thing to happen? For goodness' sake, what if she'd been anywhere else - outside the village on a mission? This kind of incompetence could and would result in her untimely demise. She rather enjoyed living, thank you very much.
The rose haired girl was frozen, anticipating her attackers next actions. She tried to think of a reason behind this surprise attack, a motive a shinobi of Konoha would have for ambushing one of their own. She came up with a blank. It had to have been one of the foreign nin here for the exams. A frown marred her features, mind racing as she searched for a plausible reason behind her attack. The Haruno's were primarily a civilian merchant family, so it was highly unlikely that another clan from some far off land had a score to settle with her kin. Also, she was a genin and aside from the escort mission to Kiri, she'd barely seen any action outside the high walls of the village so it really wasn't possible that anyone had a personal vendetta against her.
A musky smell permeated the air, thick and masculine in nature and Sakura could feel something hard poking her into her lower back. At first she'd mistaken it for a kunai – a very blunt kunai – but realized the location of his hands and the location of the object poking her. She had no valuables of any substantial monetary worth. He wasn't here for her belongings. Bile rose in her throat.
Her face paled as the reality of her situation sunk in. Here she was, barely clothed and pressed into the floor in a very compromising position, her attackers package poking her backside. His deep breaths were strained, the hot air tickling the little hairs on the back of her neck. Something sticky and warm leaked onto her back, soaking the fabric of the oversized t-shirt she used as pajamas. Sakura froze in horror.
No, no nonono… This was not happening. Sakura snarled, if this sick fuck thought she was going to give up without a fight then he was sorely mistaken. Kicking and elbowing to shove her attacker off, she stopped when she noticed he didn't react. What the hell? Struggling, she managed to twist her upper torso enough to see behind her, her eyes widening when she spotted the blood. Scrambling to free herself out from under him, she scooted as far from him as the tight quarters of her balcony would allow. The body didn't move, the blood from a large gash extending from the top of his shoulder blade to his upper arm dripping onto her floor. She watched the drops fall one at a time, the dark liquid slowly accumulating into a puddle.
Kami! There's someone bleeding at my feet and I'm sitting here staring like an idiot. Shaking herself from her reverie, she shakily got to her feet, watching the body with caution, careful not to expose her back to a possible enemy. When she determined that he was, in fact, not going anywhere, she scurried back into her room and into the adjoined bathroom to grab a towel and her first aid kit, leaving the sliding door open. Rushing back to the bodies side, her protective instincts taking over, she immediately tended to the wound, applying pressure to the surrounding area. She was so immersed in her work that she failed to notice the sand that stirred about her, rising as if to protect its master but falling away when it sensed that she posed no threat.
Sakura's medical skills were amature at best but at least she'd managed to stop the flow of blood. Upon closer inspection, the cut was superficial at best, and not as deep set as she'd originally thought. Most of the blood probably hadn't come from him. She tied the bandages over the butterfly closures, mindful of how tightly the linen sat around his arm. When she was done she sat back to admire her handiwork, grimacing when she took note of the blood that had pooled under her impromtu patient. He would need to still need to go to get proper medical attention, but for now, it would suffice. Carefully flipping him onto his uninjured side so that he could breathe easier she huffed at the sight of the red liquid smeared across his face. Picking up the towel she fetched with the medical supplies, she gently wiped the mess away revealing pale skin. Her grip on the towel tightened when she saw the uncovered face of her 'attacker'.
The man wasn't so much a man but a teenaged boy that couldn't have been much older than herself. Sakura clenched the towel to her chest, his blood smudging across her shirt front. He was quite a sight. Pale skin stretched over high aristrocratic cheek bones, a straight nose, a strong jaw line and… would you look at those lips! He had a strong, masculine brow bone that was oddly enough, browless, but somehow this only served to enhance his looks. Under his brow were bruise like dark circles that she knew were caused from many sleepless nights - the darkest she'd ever seen. Sakura had never lain eyes on him before, this much she knew as she would have remembered such a exotic looking boy. He was from another village - more than likely here to participate in the exams.
Unknowingly, her breathing grew shallow as her heart clenched inside her ribcage. If this was another participant – he was the right age and had the physique – they would undoubtably cross paths in the arena. She had seen previous chuunin exams; she wasn't stupid. Genin were pitted against one another in trained combat to show off their skills, to show who was stronger. It saddened her that she might have to fight with this strange boy.
Sakura sat beside him as the sky gradually lightened, silently observing. As the sunlight chased away the last vestiges of night she noticed another odd thing about the boy. Something on his forehead that she couldn't properly makeout was hidden behind his unruly hair. Reaching out to brush aside his fringe, her fingers froze in place. Etched into his skin was the kanji for 'love'. At first glance it would've appeared to have been a tattoo but at the close proximity at which Sakura sat she could see that it was in all actuality a scar. An old scar that he must've gotten at a young age.
Yet it hadn't been the sight of his scar that froze her, but the thin tendril of sand that had mysteriously coiled around her wrist. Sakura had watched in fascination as sand made its way up her arm, coming to rest at the juncture of her inner elbow, when she felt someone watching her. Slowly, she raised her gaze to meet his. Sakura's breath caught and although she knew it was rude to do so, she couldn't help but stare. Ringed in black and framed by thick lashes, he had the most hauntingly beautiful green eyes; eyes that were so alike to the own but so very different. While her eyes were vibrant viridian, his were a pale sea foam that in the morning light seemed almost iridescent – something she was sure should have been impossible.
Sakura stayed frozen, unsure of what to do or say as strange green eyes watched her. Unable to help herself, she gave him a nervous smile. His countenence changed then, the look of confusion gone. The boys face was emotionless but she could tell from his calculating gaze that he was trying to figure out what had happened to him and if she was a danger to him or not. Her stomach tightened painfully as she realised he didn't trust her. It's normal behaviour befitting of a shinobi, she reasoned. Hell, I'd react the same way if I woke up with some stranger staring at me. But there had been that small part of her that had hoped that his subconscious would recognise her as a friend.
The sun had made its way into the sky while this silent exchange had occurred, casting a warm glow over the two. Sakura was suddenly very aware that she had been still staring at the boy and quickly averted her gaze. She coughed awkwardly, stealing a glance at the red head, a brilliant flush working its way across her cheeks when she realised that he was still watching her. Sakura huffed. Didn't this guy have any manners? First he comes out of nowhere, bashed her face into the ground and possibly in the process broke her nose, bleeds all over her nice clean floor and then has the gall to stare unreservedly at his savior.
Resolve steeled, her face had been set in a stern expression. She was prepared to give him a very firm scolding, "You can't just fall on top of people like tha – "
Her voice trailed off.
He was gone!
Sakura scrambled to her feet, head whipping everywhich way insearch of the red haired boy. When she didn't find him she rocked back on her heels with her hands on her hips, clicking her tongue in disappointment. He was just like Sasuke; a silent, ungrateful pretty boy. A resigned sigh left her and the throb in the centre of her face grew. Disappointed, she shuffled back indoors to get ready for the day but not without casting one last curious look over her shoulder as if hoping the strange boy would reappear.
She tried to convince herself that the water in her eyes came from the pain of her broken nose.