Afternoons in Suna were oppressively hot, and Sakura had yet to fully adjust to the relentless heat. In Konoha, there was always a breeze, even in the peak of summer, but here, the air felt thick and heavy. It was the kind of heat that clung to you, seeping into your bones, making even the simplest tasks seem exhausting. Beads of sweat dripped from her brow onto the sun-baked training ground as she sat, panting from their intense sparring.

Sakura grunted, pushing herself off the desert floor, wincing slightly at the dull ache in her ribcage where Temari had landed that mean hook. Her hand glowed green as she began to heal the damage, sighing with relief as the pain started to ebb away. Temari sure didn't hold back.

She glanced over at Temari, who was sprawled out on the ground, her chest rising and falling in rapid breaths. Despite her own exhaustion, Sakura smiled.

"Here," Sakura said, extending her hand. Temari groaned but took it, hauling herself up with a wince into a sitting position.

Sakura knelt beside her, palms glowing as she carefully mended the bruises she'd inflicted during their spar. A small smile tugged at her lips as Temari let out a long, contented sigh—the familiar warmth of healing chakra evidently soothing her aches.

"Well, that was fun," Temari said, a smile on her face despite her obvious fatigue.

"Yeah, it was," Sakura replied, though her mind was already drifting elsewhere. The fight had been a simple Taijutsu match—no chakra, just hand-to-hand. There was straightforwardness to Taijutsu that she always preferred, this time, it served as a way to channel the frustration and tension that had been building up inside her. But now, with the adrenaline fading, her thoughts inevitably returned to the very thing she had been trying not to think about.

"How's your ribcage?" Temari's voice cut through her thoughts, her brows furrowed with concern.

Sakura offered a small smile and lifted her shirt slightly, revealing smooth, unblemished skin. "All healed up. No worries." Temari, seemed satisfied, nodding as she stretched her own limbs, testing the areas Sakura had healed.

Sakura couldn't help but think back to how much her opinion of Temari had shifted since they first met. She had always seen her as brash and a bit intimidating. Memories of the Chunin Exam flickered in her mind —Temari's brutal defeat of Tenten had left an impression. The image of Tenten crumpled over Temari's fan still brought a wince meanwhile Sakura at that stage of her life could barely keep up with Ino. However, nowadays… She had come to realize that underneath that tough shell she used to protect herself, was someone very kind and caring. She could see now that Temari had changed a lot. They all had. War had a way of doing that to people. She just hoped that one day Temari would be able to fully move on from the pain her previous relationship with Shika caused, and fully experience something beautiful with Keita.

But who was she to say that, she could barely move on from one man and they never dated.

Sakura let her thoughts drift, recalling her own changes. Once, she had been so sure of herself, so certain that charging forward—whether into battle or matters of the heart—was the best approach. She had confessed to Sasuke first, after all, even knowing he didn't return her feelings. How naive she had been then, so desperate to hold on to an idealized version of him she created in her head from Kami knows where. Then there was that awkward love confession during the war, come to think of it, that ninja had been from the Suna, she had turned him down with the same straightforwardness she had always wielded, still too tethered to Sasuke at the time to even consider anyone else. Sasuke had held her heart so tightly back then—with a firm grip.

But now... Now things were different. She had changed, or was trying to change and somehow, with Gaara, it felt different too. For the first time, she didn't know how to face it. And that uncertainty gnawed at her, making her feel off-balance in a way she hadn't felt in years.

"So," Temari began, flexing her arm to test Sakura's healing work, "are you going to tell me why you suddenly asked to spar in the middle of the afternoon, or do I have to drag it out of you?"

Sakura's heart skipped a beat. She should have known Temari wouldn't let her off that easily. She let out an awkward cough-laugh, trying to play it off. "It's just this case with Keita. I'm sure Gaara told you about it. We've hit a wall, and it's frustrating, you know?"

Temari's sharp gaze softened with understanding, and Sakura let out a small breath of relief. It wasn't entirely a lie—the investigation was weighing on her—but the real reason she needed to blow off steam was still a secret she wasn't ready to share.

As she finished healing Temari's injuries, she felt the guilt begin to creep in. It wasn't that she wanted to hide anything from Temari, but how was she supposed to explain what had happened with Gaara? The thought of even beginning that conversation made her cringe. She couldn't imagine how awkward it would be to talk about her confusing feelings for Temari's brother.

"All done," Sakura said, standing up and stretching, feeling the slight soreness in her muscles from their sparring session. "Let me know if I missed anything."

Temari flexed her limbs again, nodding in approval. "Just a little sore, but you got most of it. I gotta say, sparring with a medic-nin has its perks. I get my ass kicked and healed all in one go."

Sakura chuckled, shaking her head. "You're lucky. Most people don't get that kind of treatment."

As they began walking back, Sakura felt the familiar sense of calm that always followed a good workout, but it wasn't long before Temari broke the silence.

"You know," Temari started, her voice casual but probing, "for a minute there, I thought you wanted to spar because of a boy."

Sakura faltered, nearly tripping over her own feet. She forced a laugh, hoping it didn't sound as awkward as it felt. "A boy? Come on, Temari, I've barely been here a few weeks. When would I have time for that?"

Temari gave her a sidelong glance, one brow raised. "I don't know, you tell me."

Sakura swallowed hard, trying to think of something—anything—that would steer the conversation in a different direction. "I'm just focused on work right now. No time for boys." She lied.

Temari shrugged, seemingly letting it go. "Fair enough. So, where are you headed after this? Wanna grab some food?"

Sakura shook her head, grateful for the change in subject. "I've got to stop by the hospital. But it'll just be for a short while."

Temari gave her a sceptical look. "On your day off? And don't get me wrong but you don't exactly look…"

Sakura glanced down at her sweat-soaked clothes and grime-covered skin, laughing despite herself. "Yeah, I know, but Keita says it's urgent so I have to go"

Temari nodded seemingly wondering what information Keita had. "Must be serious then." She muttered.

"Yeah hopefully no one's dying"

As they reached the end of the training ground, they parted ways, and Sakura hurried toward the hospital, mentally bracing herself for the rest of the day. But even as she tried to focus on the tasks ahead, a particular red-haired remained at the back of her mind.

Sakura made her way down the hospital hallway, greeted by the warm smiles and respectful nods of the nurses she passed. Their admiration was evident in their gazes, though if they noticed her frazzled appearance from her earlier sparring, none of them showed it. "Is Keita in today?" she asked a nearby nurse, her voice casual but edged with urgency.

"Yes, Ma'am," the group of nurses replied in unison, almost military in their response.

She nodded in acknowledgement, trying to suppress a sigh. Her legs were still a bit sore, but she had bigger things to think about as she made her way to Keita's office. Without waiting for an invitation, Sakura rapped her knuckles once on his door and entered.

Keita glanced up from behind his fortress of paperwork, his eyebrows quirking in amusement as he gave her a once-over.

"You're late," he remarked dryly, the corners of his mouth twitching. "And you look like you just fought in the Fourth Shinobi War again."

Sakura flopped into the chair opposite him, blowing a stray lock of pink hair out of her face. "Well, I did have a sparring match with Temari," she said with a mock huff of exhaustion. Keita's expression shifted slightly at the mention of Temari, though he quickly masked it, feigning nonchalance. His eyes, however, betrayed him—they lit up with interest.

"Oh? That sounds... fun," he replied, trying to sound neutral, though Sakura could hear the edge of curiosity in his voice. She stifled a laugh. He wasn't fooling anyone.

"So," she began, leaning back in the chair, "you said you had something for me?"

"Right…" he muttered, rummaging through the chaos of his desk drawer. He pulled out a sealed bag with two tubes inside, holding it up for her inspection.

Sakura blinked, momentarily thrown off. "Wait... this is the blood sample? How did you get it so fast?"

Keita shrugged as if it were no big deal. "I've told you nothing a little bribery can't accomplish in Suna." He said it so casually that she almost didn't believe him.

Her eyes narrowed, suspicion crawling into her tone. "We agreed you wouldn't go there alone again, Keita. That place is crawling with dangerous people."

He waved a dismissive hand. "Oh, come on. You know how slow the process is with the mental institution. I figured it was easier to go alone without raising any red flags. You, Miss Popular Medic-nin, would've drawn too much attention."

Sakura sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. He wasn't wrong, but still— "You should have told me first. But... thanks," she admitted, taking the sealed tubes from him. Her gaze softened as she glanced at the blood samples.

"Oh, before I forget," Keita added, rummaging through his cluttered desk, knocking over papers and folders, "I have the initial test reports and incident reports here somewhere…"

Sakura watched, trying not to cringe at the state of his desk. The mess was giving her anxiety, each out-of-place document felt like a prick on her skin, she usually tried not to comment on people's organization skills but this was beyond-

"Here we go," he finally declared triumphantly, waving the report in her direction. "Not much info, though. They didn't exactly do any deep analysis before handing her off to the loony house, so it's pretty bare-bones."

She glanced over the file but frowned at the lack of useful data. She'd do a deep dive later but for now- "You know you're going to waste more time than you think if you don't start organizing this mess." she admonished as she began straightening up some of the scattered papers.

Keita chuckled, leaning back in his chair as he watched her fuss over his papers. "Thanks, Mum", he teased "But I can assure you, I thrive in chaos."

"I don't doubt that for a second" Sakura quipped, shaking her head. "Thank you, by the way, even though I still don't approve of your little solo mission it was smart. If I'd gone with you, they would've noticed but next time, at least give me a heads-up."

Keita mock-saluted her. "Yes, Boss."

Her gaze softened again, and she let out a small sigh. "You've done more than enough already. I can take it from here. For real this time Keita"

He waved her off. "No worries. Let me know if you need anything else."

"Actually," Sakura hesitated for a second, biting her lip. "Will you be going to the party this evening?"

Keita raised a brow in question, leaning back in his chair as he folded his arms. "Ren's party? Obligated to go, seeing as Temari's going. You?"

Sakura blinked, Keita had always been tight-lipped about his relationship with Temari, so the casual admission caught her off guard.

You don't have to pretend like you didn't already know," Keita added, rolling his eyes at her shocked expression. "I'm tired of you giving me those weird looks every time her name comes up."

Sakura stammered, "I do not give you any looks!"

"Yes, yes, you do."

"Fine," she conceded, leaning back in her chair. "But I still don't get why you two are keeping it a secret."

Keita chuckled, but the smile didn't reach his eyes. "Trust me… it's not up to me."

Sakura caught the tinge of sadness in his voice but chose not to pry further but she had a feeling why.

"Anyway," Keita said, leaning forward again, "are you working on those blood samples today?"

"Definitely not." Sakura shook her head and stood. "I'm actually planning to enjoy myself at Ren's party for once. I've had enough of this serious stuff for one day."

Keita smirked. "Fair enough. I'll see you at the party then."

She turned to leave but hesitated for a moment. Is Gaara going to the party? The question burned at the back of her mind, but she decided against asking Keita. She didn't need him teasing her.

"Yeah, see you soon," she said instead, smoothing her shirt and heading for the door with the blood samples tucked safely in her pouch.

Keita stood too, stretching his legs. "You better hurry back before Temari skins you alive for being late."

"Don't gotta tell me twice," Sakura muttered, flashing him a quick smile before shutting the door behind her.

As she hurried to the lab to drop off the blood samples, her mind already drifted to the evening ahead. She wasn't sure what to expect from Ren's party, but the nagging thought of whether Gaara would be there crept into her thoughts. She tried to push it aside, wanting to have an evening solely focusing on herself for now. She didn't know much about Ren and Temari wouldn't tell her anything but a party was a party and she was ready to crank it up tonight.

Sakura stood before Ren's mansion, feeling her breath catch in her throat. She didn't know what she had been expecting, but the view in front of her trumped all her expectations. The mansion loomed like something plucked from a fairy tale and placed into reality. She began to doubt herself. How much did she really know about Ren? Temari had been frustratingly evasive whenever she asked about him. Why did she accept this invitation?

Outside, a line of elegantly dressed guests stretched down the driveway, all eager for a chance to step into the seemingly coveted event. Now she understood why Temari had been so shocked at the invitation. The attendees were wrapped in finery—expensive clothing, and glittering jewelry, each piece likely worth more than Sakura's monthly salary. Ren's birthday celebration wasn't just any party—it was the party of the year in Suna's elite circles.

She watched as the bouncers hurled away guests with forged invitations, and a strange feeling twisted in her gut. People were willing to risk humiliation for a shot at being part of this world. Why did it matter so much?

When her turn came, she flashed her invitation card to the towering bouncer. He didn't scan hers for some reason which frightened her at first, but then he moved to the side, and Sakura exhaled, relieved, as she and Temari were ushered inside.

The extravagance outside had been one thing, but the interior was on another level. Chandeliers twinkled from high ceilings, marbled floors reflected the soft glow of a thousand candles, and the scent of luxury hung in the air. She hesitated for a moment, catching her reflection in one of the massive mirrors that lined the hallway. In the white dress Temari had insisted she buy, Sakura hardly recognized herself. The dress clung to her in all the right places, its plunging neckline and thigh-high slit a far cry from her usual attire.

Her hair, styled in long waves, cascaded down her back, and even her makeup—smoky eyes and crimson lips—seemed bold, daring. She looked… like she belonged here. For a brief moment, that gave her the confidence boost she needed.

Temari, sensing her hesitation, leaned in and whispered with a teasing smile, "Relax, you look good enough to eat Sakura. Ren's definitely going to want a piece of that."

Sakura blushed, swatting at her friend. "Temari, stop it!"

Her friend laughed softly. "Don't worry, you'll have fun. Just… try not to make it into the entertainment papers tomorrow."

"Yeah, yeah," Sakura muttered. "I can handle myself." She grabbed a drink from a passing waiter, gulping it down in one fell swoop.

Temari raised an eyebrow. "Starting off strong, I see."

"It's just one drink…"

Temari chuckled. "Calm down, I wasn't judging." She hesitated, eyes scanning the room again. Sakura caught the movement and smiled.

"You're looking for him, aren't you?" she teased. "Go find Keita, Temari. You don't have to babysit me."

Temari's smile was sheepish but relieved. "Are you sure you'll be okay?"

"I'll be fine. Go."

With a grateful nod, Temari vanished into the crowd. Sakura took another look around the opulent ballroom, her mind wandering briefly to Gaara. What was he doing at this hour? she wondered. Probably frolicking with his assistant somewhere. The thought hit her like a punch, she had let the gossip get to her, sighed and she shook it off. Tonight wasn't about him. Tonight was about her.

Up above, Ren leaned against the balcony railing, his gaze fixed on her. That dress… those legs. Since the last party, he hadn't been able to get her out of his head.

Of course, he knew about Sakura Haruno. What hot-blooded male didn't? So when he first saw her at that party, it had been a shock. At first, he thought she was just visiting Suna. But after digging around, he found out she was on a long-term assignment here. Just his luck.

He hadn't been able to shake the memory of her—the way she moved, so confident and natural, it nearly drove him insane. The fact that she didn't know who he was—well, that had been a bit of a letdown. But somehow, that only made him more interested. She wasn't dazzled by his reputation, which made her a challenge, and Ren loved challenges.

And then there was Gaara. The sly Kazekage had her all to himself in that mansion of his. Ren wasn't the only one who'd taken notice of how Gaara had brought Sakura in without much noise. The elders didn't report that to him, and they were always in his father's ear. Ren grinned to himself—what else was the redhead hiding?

His gaze drifted back to Sakura.

She was more captivating now than he remembered, dressed in that little white dress. Did she dress up for him? He wouldn't be surprised. It was always the same with kunoichi—strong, powerful, and beautiful. His friends had laughed it off the last time he mentioned her, teasing him about "another kunoichi conquest." They weren't wrong. He had more than his share of female ninjas under his belt.

He always told himself each one was different, but once they were in his bed for a few weeks, the thrill faded. They all wanted to resist him at first, and that's what made the chase so damn exciting. The harder they resisted, the sweeter it felt when they finally gave in.

Sakura was not going to be an exception.

His gaze slid over her like he already owned her. She was oblivious, mingling with strangers, standing out without even trying. That soft pink hair, that toned body—it was like she was born to be noticed. Having a woman like that by his side… not bad at all. He would be envied by his peers far and wide.

Ren leaned back, hands slipping into his pockets. He'd let her enjoy herself for now. No rush.

With Temari gone, Sakura decided to explore on her own. Navigating through the crowd was more difficult than she expected, especially with so many people approaching her to compliment her attire or gush over how much they admired her.

"My daughter attends your classes and won't stop talking about how much she wants to be like you."

"Really?" Sakura smiled politely, though she was already scanning for an escape route.

It was strange how she'd forgotten her own popularity, but the constant stream of praise and attention was a sharp reminder. She managed to slip away, relief flooding her as she found a quieter hallway with fewer people. It was oddly deserted compared to the bustling main party, and she briefly wondered where the birthday boy had disappeared to. Probably too busy with his elite guests to even remember inviting me. The thought didn't bother her; it was a big party, after all.

Her wandering brought her to a door with a sign that read RED ROOM. The name alone should have made her pause, but she was three drinks in, and curiosity was stronger than her better judgment. She opened the door, and what she saw on the other side made her mouth open and close several times before she quickly shut it. Her face flushed with embarrassment.

Inside had been a scene straight out of some high-end, bizarre strip club—barely dressed women, contorted in ways Sakura didn't think was humanly possible, while masked men threw money around like it was confetti. The whole scene was both surreal and mortifying. She prayed no one had seen her, but the laughter behind her dashed that hope.

Turning around, still flushed from embarrassment, she found Ren standing there, a smug grin plastered across his face. Of course, he'd caught her snooping. She really had the worst luck.

"So… like what you see?" Ren teased, his smirk widening.

Sakura, determined not to let him get the upper hand, scoffed. "Meh… I've seen better strippers."

Ren's eyebrows shot up in genuine surprise. "Really? You attend strip clubs often?"

Sakura sighed, dropping the act. "No… I think I'm scarred for life." At that, both of them burst into laughter, the tension breaking.

"Are your parties always this… eventful?" Sakura asked once their laughter died down.

Ren chuckled, shaking his head. "Depends on the crowd. I like to make sure there's something for everyone." His tone was casual, but the mischievous glint in his eye told her he wasn't just talking about the party entertainment.

"That makes sense, I suppose." Sakura mulled it over. That was the most rich guy thing she'd ever heard.

"Ah... where are my manners?" Ren said suddenly, his expression softening as he took her right hand. "I forgot to mention how breathtakingly beautiful you look tonight." With that, he placed a small kiss on the back of her hand.

Sakura was thankful for the dim lighting, which helped conceal how red her face had become. "T-thank you," she stammered, hating how she sounded. She quickly regained her composure, adding with more confidence, "You don't look too bad yourself."

Ren's chuckle was low and warm. Without letting go of her hand, he led her through the crowd, effortlessly navigating the sea of guests. They were stopped at nearly every turn—everyone wanted to greet the birthday boy and her as well. Sakura couldn't help but notice his magnetic charisma; he had a way of making every person feel like they were the most important one in the room, even though he probably felt otherwise. His suave demeanour, impeccable style, and natural confidence left a trail of admiration at every stop.

Sakura, meanwhile, was starting to notice the envious looks of the other women in the room. Ren hadn't let go of her hand once, except to grab her a drink or greet guests, and the attention from the other ladies was not lost on her. She couldn't help the small part of her that felt proud at the moment. She stole a glance at Ren, and couldn't help but be drawn in by Ren's charm. At certain intervals, as if sensing her discomfort he'd turn and ask if she was okay and she'd give a small nod in response. She'd admit she was on edge, she had never been in this position before, and it just wasn't being ushered around like some accessory- it was the setting itself, sure.

Konoha had hosted big official parties before which she had to attend but they were more or less like hanging out with friends, all her team members were there, with people she knew and after the event, she'd go back to her house to work routine but now she found herself experiencing some cognitive dissonance where she felt like she was supposed to fit in but at the same couldn't shake off the feeling of being in someone else's skin, however, practice makes perfect if she indulged in it enough, soon it'll be part of her, and Ren he had an undeniable way of commanding the space around him, and there was something about the way he held her hand that made her feel… included in his world, even if only for the night.

After what felt like hours, Ren's grip on her hand remained steady as he guided her away from the bustling party downstairs. Sakura let out a breath of relief as they ascended a grand, sweeping staircase lined with elegant red carpeting, the noise of the party fading into a distant hum as they moved further from the crowd, leaving behind a much more intimate, quiet atmosphere in the plush, dimly lit corridor.

"You've been quite the star tonight," Ren said, his voice light but his gaze lingering on her a little too intently. "How's it feel being the most popular guest?"

Sakura chuckled softly, shaking her head at his teasing. "It's a bit overwhelming, to be honest. I guess it was unexpected."

Ren grinned. "You know, people from Konoha tend to keep to themselves. Rarely see any of you exploring outside the village for too long. Makes it easy to underestimate how well-known you are."

Sakura hummed, mulling over his words. He wasn't wrong—she thought about how even Naruto, with all his fame and rank, hardly ever ventured far from home unless on missions. It wasn't just him, either. Konoha ninjas had this unspoken habit of staying rooted in the village. But why? She'd never really questioned it until now.

As they continued walking, Sakura's eyes drifted over the lavish decor of the hallway. The walls were adorned with exquisite art pieces that must've cost a fortune, but something about the space felt... cold. There weren't any personal touches—no family portraits, no pictures of Ren growing up. With his reputation, she'd half-expected a larger-than-life painting of him somewhere. Instead, the mansion felt oddly hollow and impersonal.

Just as she was about to ask where they were going, they stopped in front of a pair of ornate double doors. Two bodyguards stood on either side of the doors, which were intricately designed with gilded handles. Ren paused, turning to her with a charming smile, his eyes lingering on hers. That smile probably made a lot of girls swoon.

"Welcome to the real party, Sakura," Ren said in a low, inviting tone as he pushed open the doors.

Sakura's breath hitched. "Wow…" It was all she could manage. The pounding bass of the dance music hit her immediately, neon lights flashing and bouncing off the glossy walls and marble floors. The atmosphere here was a stark contrast to the refined elegance of the party downstairs. This place was alive, thrumming with energy that seeped into her bones, making her feel a strange mix of excitement and unease.

She followed Ren, his hand still clasped firmly in hers. It wasn't just the music or the lights—it was the sheer excess of it all. The bar stretched long along one wall, where bartenders worked tirelessly, shaking up drinks. Laughter erupted from every corner, voices shouting to be heard over the thumping music, and vigorous dancing from others. These were Ren's people—heirs, rich kids, the type of people who didn't have to worry about working for what they had. She could feel their gazes tracking her, some lingering on her pink hair, others noticing her fingers still intertwined with Ren's.

Sakura's skin prickled under the attention, this was over-stimulating and she wasn't sure she liked it. She wasn't used to being on display like this, and definitely not in Suna. Her discomfort started to creep in, but Ren, as if sensing it, gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.

"Relax," he murmured close to her ear, his breath warm against her skin. "You'll have fun. I have something I think you'll like."

They wove through the crowd, and with each step, Sakura felt both pulled in by Ren's world and distanced from her own. It was disorienting—the lights, the noise, the people, all of it tugging at her, trying to make her fit. But did she want to? She glanced at Ren's profile; his confidence was undeniable, magnetic. Yet, a flicker of doubt nagged at her, she found everything almost excessive in a way—where was this going?

Soon, they reached a poker table where three unfamiliar faces were gathered. The mood shifted slightly as they approached, a subtle acknowledgement from the group that Sakura picked up on, like a silent exchange. She couldn't help but feel like she was being sized up.

"Poker, really?" Sakura rolled her eyes, half impressed. "What? Do you think I'm a gambling addict?" she joked, knowing full well she had inherited some of her shishou Tsunade's talent for it—minus the bad luck, of course.

Ren laughed. "I may have heard a thing or two."

Sakura muttered under her breath, "Seems you did your research."

Ren introduced her to his friends. "Sakura, meet Hiro, Yumi, and Satoshi."

Sakura exchanged pleasantries, but there was a moment—brief but telling—where the friends shared a knowing look with Ren. It wasn't anything overt, but she could sense it. Something about her, her presence here, was part of a silent conversation she wasn't privy to.

"The key to being a good player is patience," Sakura said casually, taking a seat at the table. She sipped her champagne, trying to get a feel for the group. She was seated between Ren and another guy—Tento, or was it Tenko? The reigning poker champion, from what she gathered. He was already glaring at her, his ego clearly bruised from losing five times in a row to her.

"-Or just be a shinobi," Tento spat, clearly bitter.

Sakura's lips twitched in amusement. She'd heard it all before—the resentment some civilians still held towards shinobi, blaming them for the war or thinking they used their powers to cheat the system. But something about his tone set her on edge. She felt Ren lean in, his lips brushing her ear as he whispered, "Careful, that one's always a sore loser."

Sakura leaned back, whispering back, "And also a raging bigot."

Ren chuckled, and she could feel the tension ramp up as Tento's face twisted in frustration.

"You think you're hot shit now, huh? Winning a few games by cheating?"

Ren's expression darkened, and he was about to intervene when Sakura touched his arm, silently asking him to let her handle it. She met Tento's eyes calmly, though her patience was wearing thin.

"Once again, I won fair and square—five times. Get over it." Her tone was steady, but the underlying challenge was clear.

Before Tento could fire back, one of Ren's other friends spoke up, "Come on, man, stop being a sore loser. She won, fair and square."

"Yeah, don't be a mood killer," Yumi added with a roll of her eyes.

Sakura was glad they were sticking up for her, but Tento wasn't done yet. "So everyone's just gonna side with this pink-haired bitch because she fought in a war that her kind started?"

A silence fell over the table, thick and heavy. Sakura's grip on her glass tightened, and Ren was about to step in again when she shot him a look that told him to stay out of it. She turned her attention back to Tento, a cold smile spreading across her face.

"Tento, Tenko, whatever the fuck your name is," she started, watching the flare of anger in his eyes, "I don't know what your problem is with shinobi, and frankly, I don't care. Shinobi or not, you'd still be a loser. But call me a bitch one more time, and the only thing you'll be losing tonight won't be a poker game."

Her voice was soft but deadly, her eyes sharp and unyielding. The table was still for a beat before Tento, clearly rattled, scrambled to his feet. "I'm heading downstairs," he muttered, practically running away.

The silence hung for a second before one of Ren's friends started to laugh, and soon, the rest of the table joined in.

As the laughter died down, Sakura spotted familiar faces approaching their table. She felt a wave of relief and maybe even a little emotional—though that could've been the alcohol.

"Temari! Keita!" Sakura grinned. "Join us!"

Temari acknowledged Sakura with a smile and gave Ren a curt nod. "Ren."

"Temari, how long has it been? Six months? A year? That's not how you treat a friend, you know." His tone light but carrying something else underneath.

Temari's eyes narrowed as she gave him a pointed look, ignoring the subtle jab. "We're not friends, Ren."

Wait, they're friends? Sakura blinked, and apparently, her alcohol-loosened lips had let her thoughts slip out loud.

Ren chuckled, leaning back on his chair with a smirk, his eyes stuck on Temari. "Yes, me and Temari go way back—" His eyes gleamed with amusement as if enjoying the tension his words were stirring.

Sakura blinked, feeling like she was missing something. Holy shit, were they more than friends?

"Shut the fuck up, Ren," Temari cut in, her tone biting.

Sakura couldn't help but giggle at the fiery exchange between Temari and Ren, the alcohol making everything feel a little lighter, a little less serious. But then her gaze drifted to Keita. He was unusually quiet, his jaw clenched. Was he… angry? It was hard to tell if it was just the alcohol distorting things, but something definitely felt off, he wasn't happy she could tell.

"Alright, no more sitting and chatting around!" Sakura clapped her hands, eager to break the awkwardness. "Poker, anyone?"

The moment Ren's guard leaned down to whisper something in his ear, Sakura's focus snapped back to the table. Ren's smirk widened and she didn't like the look in his eyes.

"Looks like we're about to have an interesting guest," Ren said, his gaze flicking toward the entrance of the room. Sakura followed his line of sight, and her breath caught.

Gaara.