Chapter 6: Levels of Fixation

:::

Folders and data sheets littered the hotel floor. Sakura's partner in crime sat in the middle of the mess, pen in mouth, closely analyzing the words and pictures surrounding her.

In contrast to her hard working friend, Sakura snuggled further into the warmth of her bed with no effort to do more than lazily watch Ino get ahead of herself, as per usual.

Sakura let out a drawled yawn, lifting her eyelids slowly after finally adjusting to the early light peeking through the curtain. "Ino, it's 6 in the morning."

Ino spared the sleep-ridden girl a displeased look. "Time is of the essence," she quipped, shuffling the few pages in her hands. "His model girlfriend is supposed to be back next week, so we need to get on with this."

Sakura peeked over the covers and caught Ino passively scanning the green folder dedicated to Willow. It was thicker than the other files, filled to the brim with extensive notes mainly geared towards Willow's very public relationship with her client. Despite the notoriety that follows them both, it was becoming more difficult to pick up on any recent news revolving the two of them. Sakura and Ino had no clue on where the two stars stood in their current relationship with each other and if Sakura's night with the artist has had any negative effect on it.

Sasori made it clear to Sakura at his art showing that he wanted to remain faithful to Willow. No amount of seductive words or baited gazes would have changed his mind, Sakura concluded begrudgingly. But it still hurt to be rejected in such a manner, and it made Sakura wallow in anger and self-pity over her failure to shift the mission closer to their goal.

"I fucked up," she thought aloud, moving back onto her back in order to not have to look into Ino's curious eyes. "If only I had done something different, or tried a bit harder, then maybe…"

"Sakura, this man is difficult," Ino proclaimed, followed by a soft chuckle. "We'll get him next time, don't worry."

Ino's uncharacteristic indifference and calmness in the manner only made Sakura feel even worse about herself. "I'm making this harder for you, aren't I?"

"We just need to change how we go about it, no biggie."

Sakura sighed deeply despite the earnesty in Ino's response. It was becoming increasingly difficult to find any positives about her encounters with Sasori. The organization will need much, much more than a video… but what if a video is the best she can do at this point?

There's no chance of her getting back into bed with him. Sasori is a prideful character that would never make the same mistake twice. That night may remain the most scandalous memory she'll have with him.

Sakura, despite her best instinctive telling her not to, began to ponder the small details of that eventful night. She had given up the recording with great difficulty to Shikamaru, but even with it not being in her possession any more, her mind still contained everything that the memory stick had to offer, and so much more. She vividly remembers him enjoying his time with her. She remembers the small indiscreet touches and kisses that felt much more intimate than a one-night stand normally offers. She remembers him wanting to go round after round...

She thought she had done everything right, and yet, he no longer wanted her. He had a taste of infidelity and immediately backed off. A part of Sakura began to embarassingly wonder: was the sex not good?

Her brain replays the intimate scene once more, convincing herself that that cannot be the reason.

So what was it?

Her conscious has tried to come up with excuses for why he turned her away so easily at the art gallery, many having to do with his loyalty towards Willow. But Sakura couldn't help but feel so personally vindicated by it. If Ino were in her place, would he have rejected her? Was she not pretty enough? Was she not worth the trouble?

Now you sound pathetic, Sakura inwardly touted herself.

All the questions and thoughts that centered around him in her mind have turned her into the loathsome and insecure person she is now. Sakura knew that her fixation on the rejection stemmed from not only long-held self-worth issues, but also her undeniable crush on the redhead.

She stuffed her face into her pillow and held back a scream that she so wanted to let out. He's so annoying!

...But was it his irritable face that made her annoyed, or was it the fact that she maybe–kinda–somehow found it endearing? The thought of it alone had her squeezing her eyelids shut and shaking her head furiously in disgust.

This was trouble. He was trouble. But she could no longer contain the butterflies that fluttered through her stomach at the thought of her next encounter with Sasori Akasuna.

:::

The small brushstrokes that glided against the canvas were the only noise that echoed within the large furniture-less room. The sparse array of colours being used spanned across different shades of black, grey, and white.

His mood mirrored the painting completely.

It was a dark and dreary abstract painting with no clear lines or figures. The messy paint strokes and ugly mixing of the shades made for what he considered to be a mood painting. One which completely encapsulated what he was currently feeling.

Indifferent. Tired. Alone.

….Bored.

Boredom wasn't something that he felt often, as he is a man with many hobbies to entertain himself with. One of which includes his art, which he would typically turn to as a form of escapism away from the real world. He had hoped that a small painting would distract his flurried mind, but all it did was make him feel even more restless.

At times like this, he would naturally rely on alcohol to numb his current state. But Willow's rebooked flight would be arriving in two days, and so he wanted to be on his best behavior for the 48 hours that would precede her arrival.

Sasori lightly laughed at his own musings. He definitely hasn't been on his best behaviour as of late, and yet, he still didn't feel satisfied. The drinking, the cheating, late nights out on the town... It wasn't enough, as deranged as that sounds. He still feels as though there is so much more fun to be had before she arrives. But so little time is left.

He should feel more excited for his girlfriend to come home. After all, he was the one who pleaded her to come earlier than planned. He missed her warm presence much more than he cared to admit. But it didn't fully sit right with him, the idea of reintegrating her back into his life…

The idea of it didn't annoy him… but it bore him.

He dropped the paintbrush onto the eisel and sat back with an emphatic huff. This wasn't entertaining enough for him.

This didn't make him feel alive.

His fingers twitched, and it was at that moment that he suddenly felt an urge to go get a drink, but the sound of the door opening stopped him from feeding into his dark urges.

"Deidara," Sasori acknowledged his presence, his voice echoing against the tall walls of the room.

Said friend of his walked into the room with large savvy strides as if he owned the place. "Heya, what're you up to?"

"Painting."

Deidara stood next to the redhead who sat on a stool facing his latest creation. The blonde eyed the canvas with clear judgement in his eyes. "Bit depressing, isn't it?"

Never afraid to share his inner thoughts to the world, as always. Sasori could only roll his eyes in response.

Deidara shifted the conversation on his own. "So about the art showing…" he chuckled faintly, rubbing the back of his neck in slight embarrassment. "Sorry I couldn't make it. Stuff came up, and I had to be there for my mom…"

Sasori peered up at his friend and interjected his speech. "It's alright Deidara, you shouldn't apologize. Family should always come first."

"Ah, but you'd been planning it for so long…"

Sasori stared into Deidara's sincere blue eyes, and for a moment appreciated the uncharacteristically candid way in which he spoke. He could only offer a small smile. "Next time, alright?"

"And besides," Sasori began, digging through his jumbled brain to retract any significant moments that Deidara may have missed, "there wasn't much that happened."

Deidara leaned against the wall, arms crossed. His face lit up. "Any good comments?"

"There were a lot of positive responses. I didn't receive many criticisms.." Sasori tongue caught in his throat at the sudden mental image of a pink haired woman who certainly had a lot to say about one of his artworks.

"Well, who would dare? You're the best artist there is-second to me, of course," Deidara responded indignantly, ignorant to his friend who sat quietly in remiscience.

Art should evoke emotion. I don't feel anything when I look at this.

Her passing judgement echoed in Sasori's mind.

He didn't let it get to him. Painting wasn't even his favourite art form. And yet, a look around the spare bedroom would say otherwise. Half finished, drying canvases littered the walls. They signified a lot more than just a past-time hobby.

Sasori inwardly scoffed at the conclusion his thoughts were desperately stringing together. No, he wasn't trying to prove himself, especially not to her. He absolutely did not take her criticism to heart. Her words-and presence in general-have had no impact on his life whatsoever.

Willow's daily phonecalls were enough interaction with the opposite sex. So what use would it be to have lingering thoughts about Suzanne? He got what he wanted out of her, a quick fuck. Willow would be back soon, and he couldn't wait to bed a woman he had actual feelings for. To hold and kiss someone who actually meant something to him.

But his eyes couldn't help but linger on the few paintings he had furiously curated the day after the art showing. A common colour that dominated all of them were light shades of pink.

Nope. just a coincidence. He wasn't really…

"Sasori?"

Sasori retracted himself from the depths of his inner thoughts, forgetting the other person in the room. "Yes?"

Deidara bent his neck, long blonde strands falling to the side, as a curious look overtook his features. "What is it?"

"Nothing, I just…" Sasori gave up a defeated sigh. "I'm just tired."

"Maybe you should take a break, yeah?" Deidara suggests, following Sasori's trained eyes on the paintings littering the room. "Seems like you've been working a bit too much. Go rest up, we've got a big day tomorrow."

Sasori, for one of the few times in their years of friendship, decided to heed Deidara's advice. He rose from the stool and made his way towards his bedroom, but not before sparing a second look at a particular cherry blossomed themed painting sitting in the corner.

:::

Sakura breaths in the fresh spring air, a familiar scent consisting of blooming flowers and rainwater. The pouring had stopped, and so Ino had sent her to run some errands whilst she worked diligently on their case in the hotel room.

Sakura felt bad for not contributing more, but Ino had reassured her that going out into the field was a much more stressing part of the job in comparison to gathering research. Like a young child, Ino then stuffed a 20 dollar bill into Sakura's hand and shoved her out the door to go buy some small necessities.

Deodorant, check. Hairbrush, check. Ice cream, check. What else…

Sakura's feet carry her to the front of the department store and she soon finds herself standing in front of a magazine stand. Skinny bodies and beautiful faces envelope the entirety of the glossy magazines. Few were dedicated to images of men, but even they reflected an unachievable beauty.

Her grip on the shopping basket suddenly faltered. Her eyes lasered in on a very familiar face.

Willow.

Sakura reached for the magazine, tempted to take a closer look. It was a solo photo shoot of Willow in a red and white bikini, knees bent into the beach sand, arms squeezed together to bring focus to her chest, and a pearly white smile.

A shock of jealousy suddenly flooded through her, and Sakura quickly shook her head in an attempt to prevent her mind from going there.

But she couldn't help it. She couldn't help but compare herself to the woman who held the title of Sasori Akasuna's girlfriend. Everything about her reflected ideal beauty norms. It was an unavoidable fact that Sakura looked the complete opposite of her.

Was this more Sasori's type?

"She's gorgeous, isn't she?"

Her envious stare redirected towards an older woman standing beside her. Sakura blinked a couple times, processing her words.

"Yes, she is," Sakura muttered softly, hoping no indication of jealousy slipped through her teeth.

The woman hummed, peeking over Sakura's arm to take a closer look at the magazine in her hands. "It's unfortunate isn't it?" Sakura's confused features prompted the old lady to elaborate. "The recent news. Her and Sasori probably won't make it…"

Sakura's heart began to thump against her chest. What news? She wanted to ask, but she was also too scared to know. Did it involve herself?

Luckily, this lady was an avid follower of celebrity gossip and she had no issue with indulging Sakura in every bit of detail.

:::

Ping!

"Ugh…."

Ping!

"What the–"

Ping!

Sasori snatched his phone from the nightstand table and glared at the flashing notifications that spammed his home screen. His blurry, tired eyes failed to make sense of the words flashing in his face.

Repeated texts and several missed calls from friends, co-workers, publicists… and Willow.

Sasori sat upright in his bed as the comforter slipped off his upper frame. The cold shiver that swept through his body helped to awaken his senses.

"Sasori… Willow… cheat? Cheater?"

Sasori furiously rubbed the sleep from his face and refocused on his phone. He mouthed each word and name that made several appearances in his inbox.

Wait… what?

Sasori's fingers quickly swiped open his twitter app, and the first thing that caught his attention was the main headline on the front page.

Willow Tress caught out and about with a handsome frenchman! Are her and Sasori Akasuna over?

All at once, the cold that invaded his room transformed into heat. His palms became clammed up, and the anger boiling in him threatened to spill over. You're fucking shitting me.

Willow's name was trending number one, and Sasori's own name followed after. After a moment of hesitation, he clicked on Willow's name. He needed clarity on the situation. He needed something that would prove this rumour to be nothing but a damn joke–

Sasori gawked at the several images lining up his private timeline.

Willow and that frenchman. Except, unlike the intentional photo she'd sent him weeks prior at the club, these had been snapped by paparazzi. Photos that seemed to span across several days, or maybe even weeks, providing a glimpse into the private lives of those who clearly wanted to keep their deviant actions hidden in the shadows.

A private dinner at a French restaurant. Holding hands in an underground parking lot. Kissing each other against the brick wall of a back alley…

It was worse than he thought. How could this happen? When did this happen?

How could she do this to him?

Pure vitriol overran his moral judgement, which kept Sasori from recognizing the hypocrisy in the way he felt. But he could care less about how his own actions fittingly matched up to hers. What he cared about right now was tearing that French fucker a new one.

He dropped his head back onto his pillow with an audible groan. The numerous questions he sought to have answered could be delivered right then and there. Willow's phone number was at the top of his contacts list and she always picked up his phone calls.

No, he had to refrain himself.

"Not now..." he breathed quietly into the air, crossing his arms lazily over his eyes. The anger had dissipated, and was slowly being replaced with feelings of distress and fatigue.

It was out of this sorrowfulness, oddly enough, that had Sasori reeling for someone to hold. To just talk to. For just, anything.

Where were the signs? How could he have missed this? It confused him, and displeased him greatly to be on the other side of things. To not be the only one in the relationship with secrets of their own.

He uncovered one of his eyes and used that arm to bring his phone back up to view. He gazed up at the numerous texts that continued to pour in, but he continued to pay no mind to them. Instead, he opened up his photo gallery and sought the photo that may have marked the beginning of this illicit relationship.

He remembered it all too well, unfortunately. There she was, standing with her leg propped up by the blonde Frenchman in front of the Eiffel tower. As much as it had initially irritated him, the playful nature of the photo had Sasori automatically presume at the time that there was nothing romantic about it. He thought Willow snapped it for the purpose of simply pissing him off. Funny, how an image can come to mean something else entirely once the clues start adding up.

As he examined the damning photo further for reasons beyond comprehension, his eyes targeted a splotch of light pink in the background. A colour that he had unknowingly become fixated on within the past week.

Curiosity suddenly overcame him, and his fingers worked to zoom in further towards the captivating colour.

Were those… cherry blossom trees?

"Your hair… It's the same shade of Sakura trees. Has no one ever told you so?"

"No," she answered, allowing a grin of her own to draw on her lips. "They don't grow in France, so I've never seen them before. Is it a good thing?"

"It suits you."

It suited her well. So well, in fact, that it truly was a colour reminiscent of Sakura trees. Sakura trees that clearly grew in France during the spring.

Her lying words, in comparison to Willow's own deceptions, had the opposite effect on him. He felt no sort of vexation towards her little lie. Instead of anger, he felt…

Fascination.

With the upturn of a faint smile on his chapped lips, this newfound revelation swiftly sparked something deep within him.

An inkling of intrigue that for the time being, would keep him up for the rest of the night, filtering out all the negative reminders of being cheated on, while retaining impressions of a mysterious woman who he couldn't stop daydreaming about.

:::

A/N: first of all, sorry for the boring-ish chapter. I just think now is a good time to regroup and get a good feel for how Sakura and Sasori currently feel about each other before they meet again.

Thank you so much for the reviews. I didn't realize there were still some SasoSaku fans left in the fandom! It feels as though most Sakura x Akatsuki ships have become less popular over time. Let's change that!