What the hell was wrong with her?
Everything had been going to plan, the meetup, the music, their semblance of composure and conviviality - until she had blown it at the last second, impelled by some bizarre and inscrutable reflex. Again. She knew better, yet it kept happening. Every time she found herself within two feet of Naruto, something possessed her to come onto him. She felt like she was losing her mind.
Sakura examined each instance in her logician's brain over and over, searching for an explanation. The first night, she thought, made sense. It was catharsis, their mutual misfortune pulling them together, demanding release (although their literal execution of this might not have been the best idea). The second time: pure adrenaline. Faced with almost-death, endorphins drowning out the logical mind...
The third time, the two of them sat unassumingly on a couch, reading…
Well, that time she couldn't justify at all.
As a ninja, the rules were clear: observe and strategize before acting, or die. There was no room for recklessness in battle. Through years of experience she had honed this decisiveness, making critical calls on a dime in combat with relative ease, always coming out alive. Yet where was this supreme self-discipline now? Peace time must have softened her, she mused, and besides, emotional control had never been her strong suit. Still she had never felt more confused, bewildered, or betrayed by her own feelings before.
For half a week she tortured herself with such fruitless self-analysis, coming to no reasonable conclusion, and in time her tumultuous sentiments plateaued to a dull but constant roar in the back of her mind. She trudged through her work at the hospital, her training with Tsunade, her banal daily tasks, her every thought enshrouded with self-contempt and doubt.
What the fuck was her problem.
There was, of course, a fairly simple explanation for her behavior, but it was absurd. On paper a girl in her position, constantly throwing herself at a guy, would be presumed to be attracted to him. Right? But for a million reasons she couldn't quite articulate, that couldn't be the case with her and Naruto. There was simply no way. Naruto was an obnoxious, snot-nosed little miscreant turned shinobi prodigy whom she'd fallen for in the heat of the moment. He was the one sworn to return the love of her life Sasuke back to her, not somehow replace him as the romantic figure in her life. And yes, he had matured quite considerably in every way imaginable, but the bottom line was indisputable:
He was her friend. Her teammate. A reliable, unchanging pillar in her life. She was not supposed to be attracted to him, in any way. Yet on occasion the possibility would pop into her head, smacking her with a surprising insistence, like the rap of a pillow against her skull...
"Ow!"
"Wake up, buttercup," Ino jeered, glaring at her with an incredulity that could only mean Sakura had zoned out while she was speaking again, doubtlessly about something very important. "Do you have a brain tumor or something?"
That would certainly explain things, Sakura thought dismally, apologizing to her friend for the zillionth time.
"You know, I'm worried about you more than usual lately," Ino returned, retrieving a cardboard box from Sakura's side, one she'd been asking Sakura to hand to her for upwards of thirty seconds. Ino had decided, like her friend, to move into her own apartment and had enlisted Sakura's help unpacking.
"I'm fine," Sakura lied, but her voice sounded so pathetic she may as well have told the truth.
Ino paused midway through unwrapping a vase from its bubble-wrap cocoon, giving her a sly look. "More boy trouble?" she said hopefully.
Sakura sighed and nodded, too weary to keep up the charade. She desperately needed advice, even if it was Ino's.
"I...am so fucked," she admitted, voice already choked with impending tears.
She must have looked incredibly pitiful as Ino ignored the obvious innuendo, instead uttering a sympathetic: "Aww, hooker. What happened?"
Sinking down on Ino's new couch next to a box of kitsch, Sakura shook her head, wondering where to even begin. "I ruined everything," was all she managed before her eyes began to prickle, and she lowered her face to her hands.
Ino nudged her way through the maze of boxes to perch on the coffee table before her. "Did you sleep with him again?"
"No, of course not," she snapped, shooting Ino an incredulous look. "We just...sort of almost kissed a few times. I don't know, it's like I can't be alone with him without something happening."
"And that's a bad thing?" Ino cocked her head in question, long ponytail swinging to one side.
Obviously! Sakura wanted to retort, but then she remembered Ino still only knew half the truth. As far as she was concerned, Sakura had boned Sasuke, her supposed dream boy, and knowing Ino, she probably thought of the whole thing as an epic love affair for the ages or something, drama and all. Of course she would suggest pursuing it.
The reality was far from romantic, Sakura bemoaned, and too scandalous for Ino's ears. She had dug herself in too deep to reveal the truth now. She just wanted to forget the whole mess. She chose the vaguest words possible to close the subject. "Ino...the two of us just aren't meant to be."
The blonde gawked at her, jaw practically on her knees. Then a spark of intrigue lit up her eyes, and she whispered, as if there were anyone to overhear, "Is his dick weird?"
"NO!" Sakura shot to her feet, upsetting a pile of packing paper next to her. "It's not - it has nothing to do with that!" she fumbled, fighting off images of the aforementioned, a blush overtaking her face. "We just aren't supposed to be together!"
Her friend stared at her in silence, her face a mix of confusion and disbelief.
Sakura sighed, collecting herself. "I can't explain it. You're just gonna have to trust me on this." She returned to the box she'd been unpacking, thinking she'd laid the subject to rest.
"Well, that's a bunch of bullshit," Ino said, twirling a blonde strand around her finger.
Sakura gawked at her, stunned both by her comrade's words and the ire they evoked within her. Ino had picked the wrong day to be difficult. Her nerves were worn so thin from the whole affair a strong breeze could snap them.
"You have no idea what you're talking about," she said slowly, barely suppressing her anger.
Ino shrugged, contrarily nonchalant. "And you do? How many times has this happened to you before?"
"Well none, but -"
"Exactly." She released the lock of hair to point a manicured nail in her direction. "This is virgin territory for you, pun intended, so of course you're overreacting."
Sakura's grip tightened on the box she held, dinting the cardboard, but she held her tongue. Ino did have a point there. If anyone was prone to overdramatics when it came to matters of the heart, it was her.
"Look," her friend went on, "you've known this kid your whole life. You've always had a certain image of him, and now you've seen him in a whole new light, and that's jarring. But that's how this shit works."
Dumbfounded, Sakura could find no words to retort. Even after days of torturing herself for answers, she hadn't come close to such a concise and simple explanation. When had Ino become the smart one?
Ino went on: "Like it or not, things are different now. They changed forever the second you saw him naked. And you can keep freaking out, or you can just go with the flow. Although I'm betting the flow leads to you two being together."
Together? The thought had never crossed her mind. She'd been so preoccupied with returning things to how they used to be that she'd never considered the opposite outcome. Her and Naruto...together… She couldn't wrap her head around it. "But...I don't know if I - if I even like him like that." Even the words felt strange to her tongue.
"Well your body seems to, whether your brain knows it or not. You said you can't be alone with him without something 'happening,' right? Then it sounds like you have chemistry. Just let that call the shots, and if nothing else, at least you get laid."
She popped to her feet, coming to stand before her statuesque companion.
"In other words: stop thinking with your brain," she administered a flick to her namesake forehead; "and start thinking with your dick."
With a satisfied smirk Ino went back to unpacking, leaving her frozen friend to bask in her genius advice.
Think with her dick? Is that what she'd been doing? Was that the unseen force orchestrating her recent recklessness? She could hardly fathom it, it sounded so unlike her. But Ino was certainly right about one thing: these were not matters of the brain. It was something primal, almost intuitive, that drew her to Naruto time after time. No wonder she couldn't reason with it.
But this admission was inextricable from another, one that was much harder to understand: she was, in some way, attracted to Naruto.
It was no use denying it anymore. Ino's speech made too much sense. No matter what he'd been to her for all these years, a friend, a teammate, a punching bag, it was different now, and outside of her control. She was attracted to him. Memories assailed all her senses at once: the crash of their lips when they first kissed; the glint of his smile in the light of a cigarette; his thunderous voice electrifying her as he sang, his impassioned words burrowing under her skin like scarabs...
"...Fuck me."
"Atta girl."
For the next few hours Sakura puttered about like a robot at half-charge, unboxing kitchenware and knickknacks, stocking cabinets, vaguely conversing with her friend. Her body moved of its own accord, but her mind was somewhere far away from the modest apartment, still utterly transfixed with her latest conundrum. For a second she marveled that even when mentally absent, she could still navigate the labyrinth of boxes and breakable things without having to think about it. Hell, she had practically unpacked the whole apartment without even realizing it. Maybe there was something to Ino's suggestion of leaving her brain out of the equation and letting instinct do the work, she thought curiously - until Ino screeched at her from the kitchen for putting silverware in the cabinets instead of in their obvious home, the drawer.
No, her body was not to be trusted, at least not always. It had its own biological imperatives and reflexes, built either by habit or by the centuries of conditioning that shaped the modern human brain. She had learned in her medical practice that there are parts of the human body that no longer serve a purpose, like the appendix; parts that used to play an important role in survival that don't pertain to civilization as it's developed. Just because she felt some sort of primitive inclination to jump Naruto's bones didn't mean she should - she wasn't a fucking caveman. Society had evolved beyond that. If everyone still acted on their basest instincts the world as they knew it would collapse, with the beautifully paved streets of Konoha crawling with people trying to fuck or eat each other.
She sighed, catching herself in the middle of stocking Ino's sock drawer with tampons. She needed a new plan, one that took this new information into account. Sure, she may be physically attracted to Naruto, but that didn't give her permission to follow whatever fucking passing urge she felt. She was a whole person, complete with a conscience and a complex spectrum of emotional capabilities - as was he. She couldn't extricate one part from the whole and let it run her life, even if it seemed simpler. Still, she felt a degree of relief from this latest revelation, like she had at last discovered the missing piece that began to link the rest of the puzzle together. She wasn't losing her mind. She wasn't crazy. There was a straightforward (ish) explanation after all, and it had a name.
Chemistry.
That was all. The vast majority of people succumbed to it at one point or another, and she was no exception. Yes, it was utterly mind-boggling that Naruto, of all the people in the goddamn world, was the one her hormones had honed in on, but she supposed there wasn't much rhyme or reason to these things. The two of them were physically compatible - they had proven as much the night after Rock Bar.
The front door opening jostled Sakura from her thoughts, her face burning as if they were suddenly audible. The rest of Team 10 had arrived, carrying grocery bags.
"Where do you want all this shit?" Choji asked, already stuffing his face from an open bag of chips.
"I would say we should put all the snacks in bowls, but who knows where Sakura put them," Ino sassed, giving her a pointed glare. "Did you get the goods?"
Shikamaru produced two giant handles of alcohol from his backpack, and Ino squealed with delight.
"Hell yeah! This is gonna be the best party ever!"
Sakura's brows shot to the sky. "Party?" she repeated, her liver starting to ache.
The blonde rolled her eyes, already dumping the bottles into a huge punch bowl on the counter. "Duh, Sakura, did you really think I wouldn't have a house-warming party?"
"Gotta make a strong impression on the new neighbors so they know what to expect," Choji joked. Shikamaru snatched the chips from his hand and began pouring them into a serving bowl.
"Can Temari come? She's in town for a political summit," he asked, keeping his eyes on the bowl while Ino emitted a suggestive ooh sound.
"Whatever you want, Romeo. Just no baby-making on my new furniture, got it? If anyone other than me christens this apartment I will literally pack up all my shit and move to a new one."
Sakura gulped. A party, like every other social engagement in their dinky little town, would inevitably entail the presence of every single underage drinker she had ever encountered. She could no longer fool herself into thinking that Naruto wouldn't show up and force her to grapple with the awkwardness she'd brought upon them. But this time, the promise of his imminent arrival didn't send her into immediate conniptions; her mind didn't spin out, racing for an excuse to bail and hide away in her flat. Instead, she felt strangely calm, intrigued even. Rather than an impending disaster, this felt like an opportunity, an experiment where she could test this 'chemistry' theory. The apartment was small enough that everyone would have to gather in the open kitchen/living area; there was no way she could get separated from the group and cornered into any conversations she wasn't ready for. It was the perfect setting to spend some heavily supervised time with the boy she was possibly attracted to, without risking losing her tongue down his throat.
Maybe she would feel it, the strange force that kept drawing her to him. If she didn't, she could chalk the past week up to some bizarre fluke, another of life's dumb mysteries.
…And if she did end up yanking his pants off and mounting him in front of everyone, then at least she'd know she was just certifiably insane. One way or another, she would get her answer.
To Ino's surprise, Sakura volunteered to take the rest of the boxes down to the recycling bin. "Then I can run home and change for the party," she offered, conscious of the way her heart rapped against her ribs.
Her friend eyed her suspiciously from behind the kitchen counter. "You better actually come back," she warned, brandishing a tortilla chip like a throwing star.
"I will," Sakura scoffed - and for once, she meant it.
A/N: ...Let's just say I'm on a variable upload schedule, okay?
This story thrives in my mind and has since apparently 2014. Enjoy!