AN: Thanks for such a lovely reception with chapter one! I'm so pleased other people are enjoying this absolutely cracky AU. It's such a departure from what I usually write and it's so much fun.

Those nine-to-fivers, they look pretty stable / But I get my wages from my record label - Return of the Jedi by Reuben

Sakura takes to Naruto like they've known each other for years. And after practice (a gruelling experience where she'd had to play improvisations and repetitions from memory) the blonde singer asks if she'd like to grab a drink with him before heading home for the day.

"It'll be ace," he assures her, giving her a hearty thumbs up. "I know a place near here - real discreet."

Sakura tightens her hands around the drumsticks, resisting the urge to spin the twin shafts around her fingers. It's a nervous habit, suppressed while she considers his request as the rest of them pack up the studio. She doesn't have many male friends; the boundaries of going for a quick beer and getting a drink aren't obvious to her, and Sakura doesn't know which kind Naruto is suggesting.

Plus, his offer is couched in the kind of language Ino would take umbrage with.

"Discreet?" she queries. Sakura might be naive, but she's not shy.

"Yeah," Naruto says offhandedly, nodding. "For when we get famous, yanno?"

Ah. That sounds friendly, or at the very least innocent. She thinks.

"Sure," she agrees, at the exact same time as Naruto gestures to Sasuke and says, "the bastard will come along too."

Sakura notices that though they've seen eye to eye on nothing else this afternoon, both she and Sasuke make the same face at the suggestion. Clearly he's as reluctant as she is to spend extra time together, but Naruto doesn't take his growled no for an answer. Kakashi makes his excuses far more elegantly, and less than half an hour later the three are firmly ensconced in a booth at an unassuming little Izakaya pub on the corner. Sakura is surprised at how close it really is: just a stone's throw away from the intimidating exterior of Uchiha Studios' main building.

"See?" Naruto says proudly, extending his arms out with a flourish at the peeling decor and dim radio buzz. Sakura can just about make out the ancient sign reading 'Ichiraku' above the counter, below which stands a taciturn middle-aged man with bushy brown eyebrows, the kind of ordinary guy she'd expect to find hanging out with her father after work. There's a comforting feel to the place, nestled as it is between modern office blocks and glittering, glass-fronted studios.

She loves it.

"They do great food here," Naruto announces, before cupping his hands around his mouth and using his impressive vocal chords to summon over the pub's singular waitress.

"Three extra large tonkotsu ramen, and some beer to go with it, Ayame-chan!" he orders when the pretty brunette approaches. She smiles at him indulgently, giving Sasuke a familiar nod and Sakura a more polite one, extricating herself from Naruto's enthusiastic hug and reciting the request to what can only be her father behind the bar.

So both of them are regulars, Sakura observes, before she's processed what Naruto just said.

"Oh," she says, hand to her mouth. "Did I hear you order food for us?"

"Yeah," the blonde confirms, before screwing his face up. "You're not one of those talents that doesn't eat, right? You're really small, Sakura-chan. A bowl of Ichiraku's finest will do you good."

"Uh…"

In fact, tonkotsu ramen sounds pretty appealing right now and she's sure it'll be delicious from a family-run place like Ichiraku, but the truth is Sakura doesn't have a whole lot of ryou in her purse. To compound matters, there's no obvious price list, and she's not about to admit she can't afford the meal. Not when Naruto and Sasuke are dressed the same way as Ino; everything brand label, a subtle expression that they have money and that she doesn't.

"I promise it's the best ramen you'll ever eat," Naruto says emphatically. "My treat."

Sakura hopes her relief isn't too noticeable, and shoots a glance at the scowling man sitting next to the happily chattering blonde. Sasuke hasn't said one word besides for a quiet greeting to the proprietor when they entered, and his continued silence is unsettling. In a way Sakura is glad for his rudeness: without it, Sasuke would be irresistibly charming, a study in elegance with dark hair, black eyes and fine-boned features. The kind of almost-too-pretty guy Sakura finds herself admiring on the train. Perhaps worst of all, his musicianship and dedication to his craft only make him more appealing.

For the dark-haired guitarist to be almost inexcusably prickly guarantees she'll be able to steer clear of mooning over him. She hopes.

"Alright, then... thanks, Naruto-san," Sakura demurs. "I'm sure it'll be tasty."

Naruto holds his hands up with a horrified expression. "Just Naruto!" he exclaims. "I don't think there's anyone in the world uses 'san' with me."

Sakura laughs with him, complying when he makes her repeat his name a few times without the honorific. So far she's avoided addressing Sasuke at all after the first disastrous attempt in the studio, but she suspects he won't offer the same extension of friendship. Whatever, she thinks, watching as he wrinkles his aristocratic nose in disdain as Naruto chatters on, he's an ass anyway.

Content to let the blonde young man talk while she sits with her chin in hand, Sakura watches as the waitress - Ayame - pours three generous mugs of beer, carrying them over expertly before setting them on the chipped table.

"Should we do a toast?" Sakura suggests when neither of her companions moves to take their drink, longingly eyeing the beer as it bubbles gently in the glass. It's the local brew; she smiles at the heady foam on top and remembers days filching a can here or there from her father's supply. "To… us?"

Naruto mouths it to himself, while Sasuke simply shrugs and holds up his drink. Not quite the ringing endorsement Sakura had wanted but it's a cheer all the same, and she smiles at them both before downing the drink in one go. And though her vision is distorted through the thick walls of the emptying glass, Sakura sees the way they both stare at her in amazement, watching blankly as she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand in satisfaction.

"I love Konoha Dry," she says sweetly, holding back a laugh. It's a small payback - she's not dense, and the young woman knows they both made judgements about her at first sight. They weren't the first and won't be the last: sometimes Sakura curses her pink hair and her pale face, angers at the way men see her as a doll to be placed on a pedestal and admired, ignored.

"Nice," Naruto says appreciatively, and Sakura grins as Sasuke just frowns at her. He looks like he's going to say something disparaging, but at that moment three steaming bowls of what looks like the best ramen Sakura's ever seen arrive at the table. She's instantly smitten: the proprietor obviously knows his stuff, and if she's sure that her father wouldn't turn his nose up at coming downtown so often she'd bring him here to taste it himself.

"This is delicious," she mumbles around a mouthful of egg.

"Right?" Naruto agrees, holding his hands together as though praying to the taste, balancing the chopsticks on his thumbs.

Sakura copies him, grinning as she allows herself the hint of a drummer's flourish, twirling the chopsticks back to their normal position before digging back in to the meal. From the corner of her eye, she watches Sasuke's dark eyes follow the movement but he looks away when she meets his gaze, instead diverting his attention to the bowl with far more refinement than the other two.

There's silence for all of five minutes before Naruto finishes his food, complaining when she refuses another beer - come on, Sakura-chan, you barely tasted the first - and she settles down into what's likely to be an evening rather than a single drink.

And she starts to think that maybe, just maybe everything will go smoothly, when Naruto leans forward on the table and says,

"Why don't we try some proper introductions, huh?" he slides his bright blue eyes to his friend, grinning wolfishly when Sasuke sighs. "Now that the bastard's been fed."

"As though you're not the one who lives by his stomach," Sasuke retorts, and Sakura has to try very hard to keep the expression on her face neutral. Kakashi had warned her of the pair's tempestuous friendship, had even gone so far as to tell her he'd understand if she couldn't take their almost-hostile dynamic. But she doesn't mind; it's very similar to the way the carpenters in her father's yard talk to one another, a jostling, hot-tempered kind of companionship that she figures must be far removed from the slick and civil face of the music industry.

In fact Naruto and Sasuke - though she's known them barely six hours - have a camaraderie that's positively refreshing in its brutal honesty.

Once they've spent a few minutes heckling one another, Sakura interrupts with a gentle prompt.

"Why don't you start, Naruto?"

He closes his mouth around what she guesses was another insult and nods enthusiastically, giving her a thumbs up across the table.

"Yo! I'm Uzumaki Naruto, and I'm a singer, and according to Sasuke I play guitar really badly - but I think I'm alright - and my goal is to reach the top of Konoha's charts."

He smiles brightly and Sakura can't help returning it. "I want the three of us to get there together!"

With a decisive huff, the blonde places both hands flat on the table and looks so satisfied that Sakura's lips clench together to stop the laugh that threatens. It's an admirable goal; she almost believes in him, with him even after a few hours and the roughest estimation of a practice.

With a deep breath, Sakura tells her own tale, her green eyes staring at the faded tile on Ichiraku's ceiling.

"I'm Haruno Sakura," she begins, and it's very hard to avoid either of the boy's gazes because they're both watching with varying levels of curiosity, "and I'm a drummer, although Kakashi-san will tell you I'm a bad singer, too."

At that, Naruto looks visibly intrigued: she swears the blonde hair on his head sits up straight like a dog at attention.

"And?" Naruto prompts. "What's your goal?"

Why are you doing this? Is the unspoken question in both of their eyes.

"I want… I have something of a rival." Sakura doesn't miss the way Sasuke's dark gaze sharpens; the way he focuses on her words with a muted sort of interest. "I want to see how far I… we… can go together."

"I can get behind that," Naruto affirms with an obvious glare at Sasuke. "So who is it? Someone we know? Are they already famous?"

Sakura shrugs. She's guessed that they run in wealthier circles than her, but Konoha is a big place: they might not be aware of Ino despite the girl's best efforts.

"She's called Yamanaka Ino, and she's infamous, if not actually famous yet…"

Naruto screws his face up before recognition dawns on him and he takes a hearty swig of their second round.

"Mmmm… doesn't her family do your mother's flowers, Sasuke? And I think my dad gets them too. I've definitely seen their labels before when he sends them to kaa-chan."

"Is she a drummer too?" Sasuke asks, completely ignoring Naruto's question and pinning Sakura with his bottomless gaze. Sakura tries not to blush under his intense scrutiny; there's something compelling about his interest, the way his direct attention makes her feel like it's a rare gift. Sakura does not like the way it makes her feel ever so slightly giddy.

"Oh, no," she replies, shaking her head emphatically. "She sings - really well. I actually auditioned as a duet with her at first…"

Launching into a shortened rendition of her disastrous audition and Kakashi's recommendation, Sakura fidgets with the edges of her cardigan when both musicians assess her as she speaks. Though she's sure she'd passed muster during practice the young woman can't help but feel like she's under interview; and this time, Sakura realises she wants to pass.

Irascible though they may be, playing alongside Sasuke and Naruto and Kakashi is something she wants to do again and again.

"So… how about you?" Sakura eventually deflects, holding an inviting hand out towards Sasuke when he glowers impressively at her. Naruto has to knock his shoulder into the dark haired young man before he opens his mouth reluctantly.

"I'm… Uchiha Sasuke. I play guitar," he says tonelessly. "My goal is to overtake my brother."

Sakura nods encouragingly before his words permeate her beer-softened mind. Did he just say…

"Uchiha?" she repeats blankly. "As in… name-on-the-door Uchiha? Uchiha Studios Uchiha?"

Sasuke stares as though she's stupid.

"And… your brother is Uchiha Itachi?" One of the most famous musicians to ever come out of Konoha, Itachi was the musical prodigy who frontlined Akatsuki, an ensemble band of talented artists who had dominated the charts - and Sakura's record player - since their debut ten years ago.

She doesn't say any of this out loud, but she's somehow sure that Sasuke can read it in her wide-eyed stare if his long-suffering sigh is any indication. He nods shortly, curling his hand around his glass in a posture that screams annoyance. It must be irritating, Sakura realises, to be constantly measured up against the weight of his family name and the expectations led by the skills of his brother.

"Ah," she says softly, holding up a finger with a smile she hopes looks placating, "you forgot something."

One dark eyebrow raises itself while Sasuke waits to hear what she has to say.

"You write all the songs, don't you?" she questions, already knowing the answer. "I think they really pack a punch."

And it's the first time Uchiha Sasuke has smiled all day, but as his lips curve up before he downs his beer in one go, Sakura hears part of her think you should do that more often precisely as the sensible side of her says oh… oh no.

After that, it happens quickly. Naruto invites Sakura to practices, to talks about practices, to their twice-weekly lunches and before Sasuke knows it she's wormed her way into their duo as though she's been there for years.

Kakashi continues to book out the studio for them, using his not-inconsiderable influence in the company to get the best slots in the best spaces, but it's almost a month before there's any real discussion of a contract.

"I don't rush a good thing," he says with a shrug, smiling when Sasuke frowns before turning back to re-stringing his guitar. "Besides, I wanted to see how Sakura-chan would get on."

At that, he looks inquiringly towards Sasuke, but the younger man just rolls his eyes and continues his work. He's managed to grab the exec alone for an hour to go over some particularly tricky chord progression and he's not going to waste it with useless discussion.

"She can stay," he says reluctantly, noticing that Kakashi isn't picking up his own guitar. When the other man still doesn't move, hand fisted under his chin and his face smoothed out in his best definitely-not-teasing expression, Sasuke pinches the bridge of his nose before continuing.

"She's good. Probably the best drummer I've worked with."

"But do you get along with her?"

Sasuke thinks. He doesn't get along with many people outside of his family; in fact, he could probably count them on one hand if he was being generous. Where does Sakura fit in? He's not stubborn enough to willfully ignore the way she's slotted in his and Naruto's dynamic with seamless ease, or the way she lets them bicker to a point before stepping in and diffusing the tension. Yet she's no pushover either: he remembers at least two occasions where she'd snapped back at him, giving as good as she got when things got too frosty in the studio.

And she's also a damn good musician, a fact that Sasuke will forgive many faults for.

"I don't really know her," yet, he doesn't add, but it's implied. "But I guess we get along."

Kakashi nods, looking supremely satisfied and Sasuke blinks when the silver-haired man swings his guitar onto his knees in response.

"That's exactly what Sakura-chan said," he confides smugly, and Sasuke scowls before bending over the strings, forgetting everything but the swell of the music and the dance of his fingertips for the remainder of their hour together.

The very next day, Kakashi bustles into the meeting room with three stacks of paper, neatly stapled with his family's uchiwa logo prominently displayed on the cover.

"Sorry I'm late," he greets cheerfully while ignoring the way the three younger musicians glare at him. "Contracts take so long to staple together."

"Don't you have a secretary?" Naruto questions innocently, looking confused. Kakashi jumps at the word, and looks over his shoulder before settling down to beam at the three of them.

Sasuke watches as Kakashi passes them each a document and scrubs the back of his neck in embarrassment. He's known the man for most of his life and where his false lackadaisical nature routinely fools Naruto and Sakura, it's not so easy for the exec to pull the wool over Sasuke's own eyes.

"I just wanted to exercise my wrist, now that I don't get much chance with Sakura-chan drumming so beautifully!"

Sakura starts at the mention of her name, and Sasuke feels the confusion rolling off of her in waves. She looks like she doesn't believe him, but unlike the other two she's far too polite to inquire further.

"Hn," the Uchiha allows, before reaching out and flicking through the document on the table. Sasuke has seen plenty of talent contracts in his time: growing up hanging around the offices, he'd snuck a look at the documents as part of his self-appointed training for the day he became famous. It's a fairly cut-and-paste job, he notices, marking out rules around ownership of the music they produce, what Uchiha Studios will do to support and market their efforts, and the conditions of continued employment. They're required to attend variety shows and perform in shopping centres once they reach a certain level of popularity, although he notices that there's a lot more emphasis placed on their attendance at live shows and music nights in Konoha's more alternative establishments.

Finished, the guitarist closes the document and leans forward with his chin resting on his interlaced fingers. Looking to his left, he sees that Naruto's already signed and is currently twirling the pen boredly around the desk, but it's Sakura's frown that piques his interest.

"What?" he asks bluntly, startling her from her close perusal of the paper.

"Ah… it's nothing, Sasuke," she lies with a smile. Sasuke's far too observant to be fooled.

"You might as well say," he scolds. "We're supposed to discuss it before signing."

Naruto glowers at him above Sakura's pink hair, catching on to his not-so-subtle dig.

"Well…" Sakura fingers the edge of the paper with her hands, looking anxious. She doesn't speak until Kakashi gives her an encouraging nod and Sasuke finds himself irritated at the gesture. It's not quite jealousy - with regard to either of them - but there's something about the way Sakura often holds back until Kakashi coaxes her to speak that gets on his nerves. He supposes it's something to do with the way Kakashi was the first person to introduce her to the professional music scene, and the older guitarist is certainly more patient and kinder to her than he is with Naruto or Sasuke, but still - she's supposed to be their bandmate. When he meets Naruto's blue gaze over her bent head, Sasuke is shocked to see an echo of the same dissatisfaction in his best friend's slight frown.

All three of them miss the way Kakashi's smile turns genuine as he watches the silent exchange.

"Mah, what's wrong, Sakura-chan?" he prompts.

"It's just… do you have any information about," and Sasuke notices, with his straighter posture and greater height the flush that rises on the back of her neck, "our salary?"

Ah. Sasuke glances back down at his contract, feeling the unfamiliar prickle of embarrassment creep across his shoulders. He hadn't even considered that, knew Naruto wouldn't have either, and it's testament to their privileged upbringings in a way that makes Sasuke feel surprisingly chagrined.

"Of course," Kakashi says gracefully. "That's a separate discussion you'll have with our HR team."

He shrugs. "I don't get told what you get paid, but I told them to make it good."

Sakura nods tensely, and they all sign to the tune of Kakashi giving them a short round of applause.

"Now you're official talent with Uchiha Studios," the exec says, and Sasuke detects the tinge of pride colouring his voice. "Welcome to the fold, so to speak."

The rest of the meeting bores Sasuke to tears - he's sat through terms and conditions before - but he manages to grab Kakashi before he makes his escape. The guitarist is reluctant to admit it, but he likes to keep tabs on the executive's mood, and today Kakashi is definitely on the morose end of his usual spectrum.

"You've fallen out with Shizune again?" he asks, referring to Kakashi's long-suffering secretary.

"You're too observant for your own good, Sasuke," Kakashi sighs, dropping back down into the chair he'd just vacated. Sasuke waits until Sakura and Naruto are out of earshot before continuing.

"What happened?"

"I put her in a bit of a difficult position," Kakashi starts, "with your father."

That gets Sasuke's attention. Uchiha Fugaku, legendary media mogul and studio director, is not the kind of man people cross. Kakashi has the rare privilege of being so good at his job - both on stage and behind the scenes - that he gets to take liberties other talents and executives shy away from, but Sasuke knows he rarely exerts them.

"Father's upset with you?"

Kakashi grimaces. "Mah, upset is a strong word, but Shizune's certainly not talking to me. I made her tell him something he didn't want to hear, and you know your father doesn't hold back on the messenger."

Both men contemplate Fugaku's demeanor. He's so stern and standoffish that Sasuke knows his father makes him look as friendly as Naruto, and he doesn't envy Shizune having to be the bearer of bad news.

"What did she tell him?"

"I pushed back when your father tried to force me into giving you a… different contract than Sakura and Naruto. I told him you'll all be equals in this or you'll all be nothing."

Kakashi meets his eyes, grey eyes boring into black that had suddenly sharpened. Sasuke feels furious. He knows what Kakashi is implying; his father had wanted to give him an advantage, a leg up purely due to his position as family. It certainly wasn't because of his skill, because the older man hadn't bothered to listen to him play for years. Grinding his teeth together to keep his temper in check, Sasuke can't stop his fists clenching in anger.

"You told me years ago you want to do this properly," Kakashi continues, looking as serious as Sasuke's ever seen him. "And that means no shortcuts."

"I get it," Sasuke replies firmly. And he does: there'll be no slacking on the path to overtaking his brother. It's proof that his father doesn't feel he can do it, and Kakashi's refusal is proof that he feels Sasuke has a chance.

"Good," Kakashi finishes, before sweeping out of the room with a grim expression. Sasuke forgets to protest when the older man ruffles his dark hair on the way out, distracted with the need to better himself, hone his craft.

And that night, Sasuke sits in his room and plays until his fingers are raw and his strings turn the colour of blood.

Sakura's pride stops her from calling the practice to a halt even as she watches the clock tick ominously towards the last train. After signing on the week before, their sessions have stepped up with an intensity that she craves, musical fervor that leads them to locking themselves in the studio long after they should leave.

People quickly stop trying to interrupt them. Sasuke's temper is cold at the best of times, but he's almost frightening when he snarls at the unsuspecting musicians who dare to open the door, and even sunny Naruto isn't above a disapproving screech when they're disturbed.

So, no: she'll find a way home, although her house is six stops along the line, a difficult walk in the late night, post-practice exhaustion. She's still planning when her drumstick smacks off the metal rim of the snare, a discordant sound that jars them from their trancelike concentration.

Sasuke turns and glares at her, but before he can open his mouth to admonish Kakashi claps his hands authoritatively and calls an end to the session.

"We've been here for nearly five hours," he scolds, "so I think it's hometime, ne?"

Five hours? Sakura blinks in shock, all at once aware of the fine trembling in her arms and the sheen of perspiration across her forehead. Her stamina is impressive but not endless, and just last month a session this long would've pushed her to her limits. That she's merely tired causes a fierce grin to stretch across her delicate features.

"Oh, shit!" Naruto says. "I'm supposed to meet Hinata at eleven!"

He stops, twirling around to where Sakura's still ensconced behind the kit. "When's your last train, Sakura-chan?"

"Um…" she hedges, noticing that they've all stopped to listen. "Five minutes ago?"

Sasuke just looks at her blankly while Naruto puts his hands to his cheeks in shock. Kakashi places a hand on his hip and sighs.

"Why didn't you say?" he scolds gently.

"I was…" she shrugs, the movement agitating her abused arms and making her regret the heavy jumpers she favours. Their practice is almost intense enough to make her dress lightly, but she's still on edge about the skimpy outfit Ino made her wear to the audition. "I was enjoying myself."

The answer satisfies them, Sakura notes, watching as Sasuke nods minutely to himself while Naruto laughs and even Kakashi seems appeased.

"Still," he warns. "You shouldn't let us keep you. I can drive you home, but I've got more work to do tonight…"

It's a relatively long trip by car and Sakura doesn't want to disrupt the exec any further; all three of them are aware he's been pulling double duty to practice with them and continue his other responsibilities.

"It's alright," she refuses, holding the drumsticks under her arm as she waves her hands. "I'll call my papa and ask…"

Ducking out of the room and pulling out her phone, she dials home, smiling to herself when her mother answers the phone with her soft brand of worry.

"Sakura-chan, are you almost home? Why are you calling? Has something happened to you?"

Her mother is thrilled that she's working with Uchiha Studios… less so about the late hours.

"No, mama, I'm afraid I've missed the train. Could papa come and pick me up?" she asks hopefully. At twenty-five Sakura is too old for her mother's worrying, but she knows it's out of love all the same. It's a suffocating kind of sweetness that she'd have moved away from long ago, if not for the fact that her wages were far too essential to keeping her parents afloat.

"Darling… your father has already had a drink - what is that studio doing? Can't your manager drive you home? What kind of people let a young woman out-"

Sakura cuts her mother off. "OK, mama, I'll get someone else to give me a lift, I'll see you when I'm home!"

With an exaggerated kiss down the line she hangs up, staving off any further concerns. Damn, she thinks with a wince. Looks like a long walk. Konoha taxis are extortionate, and their first paycheck has yet to materialise.

Opening the door back to the studio, the drummer is startled to find all three men waiting with folded arms to hear the verdict. They've packed everything away, even her stuff, and Sakura feels the pleasant warmth of belonging drift across her. Still, she's not one to ask for help.

"Papa's had a drink unfortunately," she says with a shrug. "I'll figure something out."

They're all startled when Sasuke heaves a loud sigh.

"I can drive you," he offers with obvious reluctance. "I don't have any plans tonight."

Sakura's about to refuse politely, but Naruto is already nodding enthusiastically. "Nice one bastard, looks like you're not all bad moods after all!"

He turns to Sakura, giving a signature thumbs up. "Sasuke's got an amazing car," he crows. "Make sure you get him to take you a route that picks up speed!"

Sasuke rolls dark eyes but doesn't dismiss the notion, and the part of Sakura that's grown up around carpenters and their love for all things dangerous feels just a touch excited. It's heightened when they walk in silence down to the carpark and she gets her first look at what the youngest Uchiha drives.

"This is your car?"

She can't keep the incredulous note from her voice, and over the sleek black roof Sasuke gives her his trademark smirk. "Ah."

Sakura takes a step back to admire the all black vehicle; it's Suna made, an expensive import that screams I'll go as fast as you dare and when she meets Sasuke's eyes again he's wearing a look that's so insufferably smug she almost asks him who paid for it.

But she really wants the ride home, so she simply gives him a level nod and gingerly drops into the leather front seat. He follows her into the driver's seat, jumping in something that seems an awful lot like surprise when he looks at her.

"What?" Sakura queries, a little defensively. Practice was long and she's pretty sure she doesn't stink, but… "you don't want me to sit in the back, do you?"

"No," Sasuke affirms while starting the car and edging smoothly out of the spot. Sakura tries not to think about the way he looks while driving, because with his good looks, confidence and the luxe black backdrop it's undeniably attractive. "I just don't give girls a ride home often."

"Lucky me," Sakura drawls in response. It's dark on the road, but she's pretty sure Sasuke is fighting a smirk.

The remainder of the drive passes in what could almost be a companionable silence, punctuated only with Sakura's clipped instructions and her bitten-off squeal when Sasuke puts his foot down on a quiet stretch of road.

He pretends he's above Naruto's goading, she thinks, watching as he grips the steering wheel and drives with intense focus, but they're as bad as each other.

Soon, Sakura begins to recognise the area they're driving through, and a sliver of shame winds its way up her spine. She lives in one of the most run-down areas of the city, a neighbourhood that's not rough, but not affluent either; Sasuke's expensive car doesn't fit in with the beaten-up cars parked in front of the modest houses. They reach the dark back road that leads to her house-come-workshop, and Sakura turns to the young man driving silently beside her.

"This will be fine," she says evenly, watching as he slows to a stop, staring at the pitch-black surroundings. Her house is off the main road, hidden in a stretch of forest that her father has carefully cultivated for his work.

"Here?" he confirms, craning his head around. "There's nothing here."

Sakura smiles with what she hopes is a reassuring tilt of her head. "Yes, my house is just further up the hill. It's just a minute away."

"Then I'll drive you another minute," Sasuke says decisively, releasing the handbrake.

"Sasuke, you don't have to, it's easier to turn around on this-"

Sasuke interrupts her archly. "Sakura," he says, and she listens because he very rarely addresses her by name. "It's late, and I'm not giving you a lift just to drop you off on an abandoned stretch of road."

He says it so confidently that she just nods dumbly, snapping out of it only when he almost drives past her father's workshop.

"Here's me," she half-yells, and Sasuke puts his foot down so abruptly she's almost thrown forward. They both look to the side of the road, Sakura taking in the fading paint that proclaims her family shop - Haruno Woodworking - with a heavy heart. It's very different from the glittering polish of Uchiha Studios, and though she's not been to any of their houses, Sakura knows it must be worlds apart from her own. She feels almost embarrassed at the near dilapidation, and then angry at herself for such traitorous thoughts. Her father built the house and the wood warehouse with his own hands, and he works very hard even though he should be thinking of retirement.

Glancing back at Sasuke, she notices he's observing her home with a cool expression, leaning forward on crossed arms over his steering wheel.

"Sorry my house is…" she trails off, annoyed with her own nerves. What does it matter? Ino's as rich as the rest of them, and it doesn't bother her when she comes round.

"I don't care," Sasuke mutters, raising a fine dark eyebrow at her. And though other people might find his cold words rude, Sakura hears his intentions; the way that in his own fashion, the Uchiha is trying to reassure her that he doesn't particularly care about the state of her home.

So she simply smiles in response to his declaration and they sit for a moment unmoving, two people staring at one another in the dark of his car. With a nervous laugh, Sakura realises that he's probably looking at her and wondering why the hell she hasn't gotten out of his car yet, but before she can move Sasuke unclips his own seatbelt and slips out of the vehicle, making her frown in confusion before gasping audibly when the door beside her opens.

She stares up at Sasuke as he holds the door open for her; never in her life has anyone held a car door open for her to step out, and the drummer worries her face is painted with open confusion when he raises his other eyebrow and leans on the window.

"Thanks for the lift," she mumbles, exiting the vehicle with uncharacteristic gracelessness. Sasuke closes the door behind her with a shrug.

"It's fine," he says offhandedly. "If you miss the train again because of practice…"

The offer is unexpected, and Sakura tries to keep the surprised expression from her face.

"Thanks," she says softly. "Goodnight, Sasuke-kun."

With the diminutive hanging in the air between them - she truly hadn't meant to call him that, but she's not about to take it back, because that would be worse - Sakura turns and makes her way up the path to her house.

And he doesn't return the pleasantry, but when Sakura looks over her shoulder she sees the way he's leaned against his car, arms folded, watching her make her way up the winding paving stones towards the door. Sakura doesn't know if he's apathetic or smooth, but when Sasuke gives her a lazy wave as she unlocks the door and steps into the dim light of her hallway, the drummer is almost, almost appalled at the way her heart beats a frantic rhythm in her ears.

She leans against the door and listens as his engine purrs to life and leaves, ignoring her mother's loud greeting in favour of cooling the rush of heat that's drifted across her face.

It's only when she sits down in the garage behind her ancient, patched-up kit and beats out the drumming in her head that her heart begins to calm.

Maybe, Sakura thinks, resting her head across the vibrating cymbal as she slows to a stop, I should've walked home after all.

AN: and there's chapter two finished. I'm having such a good time with surly guitarist!Sasuke and just-as-proud drummer!Sakura. I'd love to know if you are, too!