a/n: thank you so much for your comments last chapter! ! ! and thank you so much to my beta ninjas-in-love! without her emotional support and horny talks the back half of this fic would very likely stay hidden in my brain.

.

"This better be good," Ino growled, swinging the door open with force. "I am this close to finally doing anal, and if you ruin that for me, I will never talk to you again, I swear to God."

Sakura could only stare at Ino's wine-flushed face and her long, silky hair, which she was wearing down. She wasn't even wearing a robe — just skimpy white panties and a white bra.

Shit. Sakura had, without a doubt, totally interrupted.

"Uh...my bad," she said, hearing some kind of punk music blaring further in the apartment. Even at this hour, Ino could do that, because rich people could afford thick walls. But that meant someone was here — probably that skater bro from the art school. The one who posted his attempts at rapping online, no mercy for any potential listeners.

Ino sighed, adjusting the way her boobs were spilling out of their lacy container. "What is it, dude? Is everything okay?"

"I'm — so sorry. Please go get laid. I'm serious. You deserve it." She started backing away. "I'll call you tomorrow. I — "

"Sakura." Ino grabbed her forearm, manicured nails pinching into the skin. "You look like you're gonna hurl, and you never come over here. Especially not this late. Tell me what's up."

Sakura stared into her friend's eyes, an unnaturally light blue from her colored contacts and framed with feathery lashes. Irritated as that glare was, as Ino herself was, it always had a way of getting her to talk.

"Kakashi and I had a fight," she mumbled, feeling herself immediately deflate like a bad whoopie cushion, like not saying anything had been the only thing keeping her afloat. "And Shizune and Genma are back together. And I think I am gonna hurl, actually. Jiraiya let me eat too much sugar."

Ino's brows rose. "Wait. You saw Jiraiya?" She paused, blinking rapidly, her grip going a bit soft. "Wait, wait, wait. Was this all in one day?"

Sakura nodded.

Ino paused again, narrowing her eyes as she considered Sakura's slumped shoulders, her hair that desperately needed to be washed, her majorly depressed countenance. And then she turned around.

"DEI!" she screamed, loud enough to be heard over the music. "Put your clothes back on! It's an emergency!"

"Hah?" Sakura thought she heard back. Not even five seconds later, a guy tripped out into the main hall, frantically slipping his black boxers on, clothes in hand.

She felt her eyes bug out of her head. Not because of the guy's piercings and excessive tattoos — some renditions of paintings, some sexually explicit anime girls, and some mouths with tongues sticking out — all covering his arms, chest, legs. Not because he was still incredibly naked — the hole in the front of his boxers was flapped open, hiding absolutely nothing that it was supposed to. And not even because he was far better looking than she'd imagined him, based on Ino's abysmal descriptions of this new fling over the past few weeks.

Sakura stared wide-eyed at her friend, who gave her a silencing look. A don't try me, bitch look.

"What's up, babe?" the guy asked, noticing Sakura with an evaluative once-over. His eyes, also unnaturally blue, traced her form in a way she didn't care for. "Why am I putting my clothes on? Isn't this her?"

Ino stiffened immediately. "No, Deidei, Jesus. Use your brain. I told you that was next weekend." She walked over to him and grabbed his inked-up shoulders, started pushing him toward the door, where Sakura was still standing. "You have to leave, right now."

"The hell?" He stumbled around Sakura, who was now being dragged inside by the elbow. "Babe, we were just — "

"I know, I know. Come back over tomorrow night, okay?" She shut the door enough to hide the guy and tell him something in a hushed tone. Unfortunately it didn't censor the wet noises not a moment later of what had to be a nasty french kiss, or the hand that came around to smack Ino's ass before grabbing a handful of it. Sakura averted her gaze, too sober for this.

Her eyes spanned the length of the ice-blue hallway instead, distracting herself on purpose. There was some kind of structure or technical device set up outside Ino's bedroom. Was that — was that lighting equipment?

"See ya then, baby girl," she heard the guy said, and then Ino shut the door. She leaned her back against it, seeming winded, the muscles in her taut stomach rising and falling.

"Phew," she said, whistling out a breath, and then she clapped resolutely. "Okay. We need wine. But you need food first."

Sakura followed Ino toward the kitchen. She was getting a bit of whiplash. This was what she got for coming here after work, in the liminal hours of the night.

"You didn't tell me you were banging your doppelganger," she announced in slaphappy disbelief as she trailed toward the barstools at the island. Ino's sexcapades were mindblowing sometimes, but this one might have taken the cake.

Ino groaned, gruff. "God damn it, I knew this was coming."

"What's all the equipment for? Please don't say you're a secret porn star now." Sakura plopped herself in a seat. "Do people still have twin fetishes?"

Ino scowled, halfway toward pouring a big glass of rosé from the open bottle on the counter. "It's an erotic film, Sakura. It's one of Deidara's projects for his portfolio this year." She continued the motion, letting it glug into the oversized wine glass. "We're doing a devil and angel concept — I'm, of course, the angel."

She gestured to the expensive lingerie she was wearing. Sakura had to mash her lips together to keep from laughing.

"Stop judging me, you bitch!" Ino tossed the cork at her. "I can see it in that spunky little face of yours. You fucking wish you were me."

"Not really," Sakura snorted. "I don't really have any desire to have sex with my evil twin."

"Oh, I realize that. Don't think I didn't see that snarky little look when you saw him." Ino slid the glass toward her, and she took it gratefully. "Don't knock it 'til you try it, though. Gives a whole new meaning to 'go fuck yourself.'"

"So all those years of telling you that finally paid off?" She took a giant-ass sip, hoping for a rejuvenating effect. The day was quickly catching up to her, and her body was starting to feel stiff and sore everywhere at once.

"Nice try. Enough about me, though. What's with the ugly shirt?" Ino asked as she whirled toward the fridge. "Gift from Jiraiya?"

Of course Ino would guess that flawlessly. But Sakura didn't take the bait. Ino loved Jiraiya, weirdly, so it was always useless trying to talk to her about how she felt about him unless it was a bizarre, unsettling appreciation for his antics. That was one thing about Ino that Sakura would never understand — her unfailingly positive view of the man. Maybe it was something only hypersexual people had in common, some different language only they spoke. She took another chug of her wine.

"Yeah, but that wasn't the bad part of my day, surprisingly." Another gulp, and she winced as the heady taste went down.

"What did you two do?" Ino was rummaging around the shelves, the glow of the fridge's inside outlining her form. "You know I'm curious."

A big sigh left her. "It was...whatever. He took me to lunch at some bullshit rich people place, and then he bought me all this stuff I didn't ask for just because he likes having money now, I guess."

She heard a snort from inside the fridge. "You sound thrilled."

"It was so unnecessary. I had to keep myself from gagging every time he pulled out his wallet."

"Yeah, that's just so horrible, having someone buy you nice things because they love you." There was a laugh now, too. "You weirdo."

Sakura didn't say anything, because her stomach almost churned up all the wine she'd just swallowed, and her head was starting to feel a very slight flush from the alcohol. Ino didn't understand. Even though Jiraiya did truly care, apparently, that wasn't the issue.

Ino turned to glance inquisitively at her — she'd forgotten to respond. Shit. Before she could even formulate a quip or a joke, Ino quickly shifted, returning her attention to the contents of her refrigerator.

"Did I hear you say that you and Kakashi fought?" she asked, her tone obvious, but her interest genuine. "What'd he do?"

"Ugh," Sakura moaned, resisting the sudden urge to slam her face against the granite. This was the big one. The hugest manifestation of the problem. "He fucking — tried to dictate my schedule, first of all. Like, he just...decided for me that I didn't have to go to work, even though I did need to, and it fucked up my whole day."

"Oh, hell no," Ino said, turning back again to slap some to-go boxes on the island. "Did he say what the hell for?"

Sakura's stomach did a weird flip again. As much as it was eating at her, and as much as she needed to vent and try to make sense of it, Ino, looking at her with an angry raised eyebrow, wouldn't understand the money thing. And she didn't want to explain that her boyfriend pitied her for being poor. That was just…

Her face burned, and she ran a hand through her hair, pulling the short strands into her fist as she avoided Ino's penetrating eyes. "I don't get it, honestly. I feel like...like I don't know him at all, really."

Ino scoffed, pissed. "Well, you know that he's a controlling asshole, at least."

A line of fire burned down her throat at the thought of that. Her hand moved to rub her eyes. "Probably because he's best friends with Genma."

"Genma? Like, Shizune's ex Genma?" Ino slapped the chopsticks she was holding onto the counter with a disbelieving metallic clang. "Are you shitting me?"

She shook her head, feeling the dizziness start to set in behind her closing eyes. "No. He told me they're best friends, and I just tried to forget it because I didn't want it to be true." And then there was the worst part: "And he's not her ex anymore."

"Jesus." Ino slid an open box full of noodles and the chopsticks toward her. "Here. Eat. It's leftover Thai food, but it won't be spicy if you eat it cold, and there's a ton of broccoli."

Oh, God. The smell of shrimp and peppers on an empty, already-rolling stomach was not doing her any favors, but she persevered, bringing a noodle to her mouth and chewing slowly. She couldn't taste it, only feel its texture, and her tongue felt weird because of it.

"Shizune and him are back together?" Ino said after the quiet moment. Sakura just nodded, stirring the oily clump of noodles around in the container with a heavy arm.

"Yeah. I saw them making out near a street cart when I was out with Jiraiya today. We were in the car, though, so I couldn't really do or say anything." She exhaled, setting down the chopsticks with finality. She probably couldn't stomach another bite. "It just pisses me the hell off. After all this shit, she still — "

She didn't finish, but she didn't have to. Ino made a noise of disapproval.

"He must fuck like a guy on death row or something. That can really do it. Good dick is more powerful than men deserve." She flicked her hair over her shoulder. "Shizune especially has low self-esteem, and she's a hopeless romantic, so she's way more vulnerable to a bad guy. We have to rehab her again."

Sakura sighed again, tipping her head to put its weight into her hand, too tired to support it. That was what she was thinking, too, but the situation now was infinitely more complicated. They were out shopping. Eating waffles together. Kissing chastely in public, and smiling while doing it.

Shizune was in love with him, again. Hopelessly.

A wave of true nausea hit Sakura in the gut. She just wanted answers. She hated this. And she couldn't stop thinking about how Kakashi fit into all of this. If she got Shizune to shut Genma out — if she even could — where would that leave Kakashi?

Would he still even want to be with her?

Did she still even want to be with him?

"Hey. I need you to back up," Ino declared after a moment of silence, pulling the focus back with a literal snap of her fingers. Probably sensing the downward spiral in Sakura's brain. "Genma. Kakashi. Best friends. What the hell is that about?"

"I…" She pushed the heels of her hands into her eyes, seeing stars behind them from the pressure. "I wish I knew. We all met by accident. Genma's a fucking mechanic now, did I tell you that?"

"Uh, no? What? You what?!"

"They've been friends since they were kids, which is just — so fucked up to me." She groaned. "I don't — how do you even be friends with someone like that? And for that long? I..."

The back of her brain suddenly lit up, neurons exploding one by one as they shot off a myriad of latent memories.

Her handprint, red and angry, on Genma's face at New Year's dinner. Her screaming match with him at the bowling alley on her birthday, the one time he'd ever been invited to a non-family gathering. The roundhouse double-kick to the face outside the bar. All the things she'd said to Shizune in confidence, not knowing she was on speakerphone where Genma could hear.

His voice, too calm and sober for how much he'd had to drink: Does it ever get lonely, being you?

Her palms went clammy. Saliva was flooding her mouth suddenly, hot and sick, running under her tongue with a viscous vigor.

If they were really best friends, then Kakashi knew. By now, Kakashi had to know.

"Sakura?" Ino asked, waving a hand in front of her. "You okay? You look kind of…"

Oh, God. It was coming. Sakura scooted her chair away from the island with a hard push.

"I'll be right back," she croaked, covering her mouth. "I'm just gonna — "

"Oh, shit, are you gonna be sick?" Ino responded immediately, fiercely, but she was already meeting her halfway, guiding her there, a hand on her back and one encircling her bicep to pull her along.

"I'm good," Sakura reassured, voice warped around a gag. "I'm totally good."

But then it happened: she puked, right there, all over Ino's immaculate hallway. Big time. Like a woman possessed.

They both just stood there for a long moment, staring at the damage. Sakura's eyes had watered from the retching, but she could see the horrible splatter anyway, could feel the nasty drool still running off her lips. She braced her hands against her knees, praying there wasn't a round two coming.

"Oh, babe," Ino finally said, hand still on her back, if slightly withdrawn. "If that's good, then I really, really don't want to see great."

.

.

.

There was a lot to be said for the power of a hot shower and expensive, comfy, matching pajamas. There was even more to be said for friends who sacrificed their very sexy evenings for their pathetic friends in crisis.

Sakura had refused help in cleaning and mopping the hallway, so Ino, who somehow hadn't puked herself, decidedly put on some clothes and ran to the corner store for crackers and ginger soda — open twenty-four hours, thank God, or else Sakura would have probably been coasting death for the rest of the evening. Ino was a wonderful friend, but certainly not the mom kind, and definitely not the dad kind. Much more of the cool, childless aunt who gave out gift cards for Christmas. That kind of friend.

She wasn't much for warm and fuzzy, either, unless she was inebriated. But she had her moments. And now was one of them. She let Sakura rest her head in her lap while they watched some American action movie.

Well, watched was a loose term. It was more like rampant bitching with luxury car chases and explosions in the background.

"All I'm saying is, you should think about it."

Sakura snorted, slotting another saltine out of its plastic sleeve. "Okay...I might be suspicious, but I highly doubt Kakashi's a drug dealer."

"I'm telling you, dude, think about it!" Ino retorted around a mouthful of neon-orange cheese puff. "Rich, eccentric, keeps wads of cash in the bathroom? Has an inexplicable number of animals...and the food truck is probably just a front." She sucked some cheese dust off her fingertips with a resounding pop. "The Genma thing makes total sense when you think about it. He probably got fired for getting caught with something."

"Well, that's probably true regardless." Sakura held back an eye roll or a noise of disgust. No doubt he'd done something stupid and terrible to get himself offed from a respectable job. "But I don't know. I don't think it's that kind of thing. For Kakashi, at least."

"Then what else would it be?" Ino watched Sakura slide a cracker into her mouth, a sculpted, skeptical eyebrow raised. "How else do you justify being friends with someone like that unless you're equally shady?"

"I...I don't know." That was the whole problem, wasn't it? She couldn't understand it, and she didn't have the means to — not based on the little amount of information she'd been given. "I keep hoping, like...maybe he doesn't know who Genma really is. He tends to give people the benefit of the doubt."

She thought back to that first night at his house, all those soft, hesitant smiles. The way he'd invited her to stay, to show her that his friends cared, even if it didn't seem so at first. The warm, cozy, delightful afternoon at Tsume's. Him getting shy all the time, the blustery sweetness of his embarrassment. Standing in his kitchen while he made pancakes, reassuring him that she had never been romantically involved with Genma, that fucker.

Had he known, then, and just played dumb? Surely that couldn't have all been an act. Right?

"Don't you go getting all soft on me." The changing light from the TV flash across Ino's scowl. "I can see it in your dumb face. This is exactly what he wants! He wants you all pliant and doubtful and — and fond. This is exactly how he's gonna reel you back in."

"I'm not being fond!" she whined. Even though she was totally remembering him feeding her a forkful of cheesecake. And the adorable way he smiled with his eyes.

"Yes, you are! You have to see the bigger picture here, Sakura. He's trying to control you!"

That made Sakura's stomach sink. Again. But not with an impending nausea bomb.

She didn't want to admit it. Not when she was remembering all of the sunny, happy little moments they'd had since she'd started to know him.

But Ino had a point. And a very good one.

How many times had she asked Kakashi something about himself, only for him to divert the subject, or flat-out refuse to answer it? How many cryptic hints had his friends dropped about him only to clam up when it was time to get to the meat of the subject? It seemed like he was surrounded by good people, but at the end of the day, she didn't know any of those people. Not outside of the context of him.

And then there was the money thing. The fact that he thought he had a say in her life just because he could pay her out of her obligations. The way he withheld information, only giving her bits and pieces of the truth, or nothing at all.

She really didn't know him. It was the only thing she'd been able to think about since Jiraiya had dropped her off at her apartment, but it was true.

"I see that brain of yours working behind that bigass forehead." A fingertip landed on it soundly, making Sakura wince. "You need to go talk to him. Bust his door down and demand answers."

Another explosion rang out on the television. Sakura ate another cracker, letting its flaky saltiness melt on her tongue while she thought. And thought.

"I hate this," she finally managed.

"Of course you do, babe. You thought you could trust him, and then he ended up being as bad as every other guy." Either that was a loving pat to her forehead, or a knowing smack. It was hard to tell with Ino. "Don't blame yourself. We've all been there."

Ugh, God. Sakura was feeling pretty saturated with the truth she'd been too naive to see, and it didn't sit well with her. She rolled over to face the TV — it wouldn't hide her face completely from Ino, but she could at least avoid the facts of things a little bit longer if she didn't see them reflected in Ino's eyes.

"Don't be a weenie, though. You should go kick his ass. First thing in the morning."

"Yeah, I should." She pictured herself karate-kicking her way through the door of his food truck and threatening to throw him in the deep fryer. Or sneaking into his house under the guise of walking the dogs, when really she would tie him to a chair using their leashes and interrogate him. Or she could just hold him at gunpoint with a good one-liner, like these buff dudes in the movie.

Oh, shit, though. The morning. It hit her like a ton of bricks. She still had to go walk his dogs, which meant he would be there. And —

"Wait a minute," she said out loud, eyes going wide, "what day is it tomorrow?"

Ino twisted a strand of Sakura's short, damp hair around her finger. "Friday. I think. Or I guess it already is."

Sakura checked her phone. Friday, March 25th.

Panic, immediate, now joined all the other awful things inside her.

She'd fucking forgotten.

"Oh my fucking God. I have an exam in" — she clicked her phone to light up the screen — "oh, fuck, six hours. Oh my God. I haven't even studied, Ino, what the hell am I gonna do?!"

"You have class tomorrow?" Ino looked like she smelled something bad. "Why?"

"What do you mean, why?" Sakura sat up with a lurch, raking her hands through her hair. "When have I ever had a Friday off?" Oh God, she was going to die. All the other stress had piled on, burying this stress, and now it was an unmanageable ball of major fucking stress all wrapped up together, and she was going to fail.

Ino swatted away the hands she was trying to press through her own skull. "Hey! Chill out. You're gonna be fine, dude. It's just one test."

"It's twenty-five percent of my grade!" In Shimura-sensei's class, no less. There would be no extra credit opportunity to make up for whatever losses she was about to incur. She'd left her textbook on the floor by her bed after having sex with Kakashi, and she hadn't glanced at it since.

Perfect. This whole goddamn mess was his fault.

"Hey!" The bag of cheese puffs crunched as Ino moved to loom over her. "You've had a shitty, overwhelming day, and you had a panic attack so bad you fucking puked on my floor. If you get sick again, I will actually murder you." Her nail poked Sakura in the cheek, hard. "You need to sleep. Save the worrying about Kakashi and school and whatever else for tomorrow."

"But — "

"Don't even say you haven't studied. There's no way in hell you weren't studying for this shit since last week." When Sakura opened her mouth to respond again, Ino frowned and clapped a hand over it. "We're done talking about this, Forehead! You're gonna go kick his ass and cram for your test and whatever in the morning, but you are going to sleep, right now."

"How am I supposed to sleep now?!" she tried wailing from beneath Ino's palm, but it just sounded like a garbled mess of whines. Ino understood it anyway.

"Because I said so!" She removed her hand and used it to grab the remote, effectively cutting off the TV and all excitement that went along with it. "I'll knock you out myself if I have to. The sheets in my guest room have a very high thread count, and they are very comfortable, and you are going to use them, whether you like it or not, bitch."

Sakura frowned too, already being halfway dragged toward said guest room. "God, you sound like Tsunade."

That got a laugh out of Ino, despite her intimidation. It came out sounding a little evil.

"I do, don't I?" Her platinum hair billowed out behind her as they marched through the open bedroom door. "Someone's gotta knock some sense into you every now and then."

That was a valid statement. Sakura did tend to spiral out of anxious control when she didn't have guiding logic from a friend or family. That was why, not even fifteen minutes later, she found herself tucked firmly beneath the luxurious comforter and sheets on Ino's guest bed — a queen bed, so much larger and plusher than Sakura's sad excuse for a double — and attempting to fall asleep, no light but the soft fairy lights hanging over the headboard.

It was hard, now that she was here, not to think about the fact that this room could have been hers. Ino had asked her to move in with her when she first got this place. Before she'd settled on it, even, she'd told Sakura that she wanted them to live together. There wouldn't have been any rent to pay — Ino's dad was abundantly, generously wealthy with their old family money and company, and he told Sakura he thought of her like a daughter.

It would have been so different: Sakura wouldn't have had to work so much, so there would've been more time to study, to be with her friends, to take care of her body. But that wasn't what she wanted. She wanted freedom, self-sufficiency, to live life her own way, even if it meant sacrificing some peace. She wanted to never be a burden to anyone but herself.

That was the whole issue. Wasn't it? Wasn't that what had so royally pissed her off?

Here, in the calm of this bedroom, things seemed softer, further away. The whole day had dialed back to a simmer in the dark, had given way to the promising, sweet lull of sleep. But she still felt restless and unsettled, like she was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Her phone was on the nightstand. She glanced at its dark surface, the shallow cracks in its glass.

Don't do it.

It wouldn't hurt to double-check her alarms…

Don't do it! Just go to bed, you wiener.

She did it. She nabbed it in a flash, slid it under the covers with her, like Ino would be able to catch her looking at it if the screen's light was visible enough. It took mere seconds to open up her texts.

Hours ago, around the time she'd taken her break at the coffee shop, a text from Kakashi had made its way into her inbox. It read, very simply, r u ok?

Wouldn't you like to know, she'd almost sent back, but then thought better of it. Plus Sasuke had approached the table she sat at with a reminder that there were only forty-five seconds left on her break, and she should spend them getting ready to return to work. Not enough time to formulate a proper response, even without the murderous rage for Sasuke's stupid, beautiful face.

When she was grabbing her bag from her locker at the end of her shift, she saw another text waiting for her: Pls just let me know if ur alright. Seeing those words had made her feel such a deep, unnameable concoction of emotions it made her hands shake. The biggest one, still, was anger. Fuck you, she'd barely managed not to send back, wanting to wait until she had something better and meaner. But lingering behind that anger was something that honestly just made her want to cry.

Looking at the texts now, she was livid. She didn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing she was okay. Maybe she wanted him to worry a bit. Maybe, if Ino really was right, she wanted him to squirm, knowing she was free to do whatever she chose, his opinion or approval be damned. And maybe, worst of all, she wanted him to feel as awful as she did.

He had no right to tell her what to do. He had no right to pity her. But he had, and he was.

This whole day had been a betrayal, plain and simple. She'd been betrayed. And it hurt more than she wanted to admit.

Her throat burned, as if her stomach acid were still coating the inside. All she really knew was that if she didn't get any sleep, then she would have hell to pay in the morning, no matter what she decided to do. So she clicked her phone back to dark, placed it on the side table, and closed her eyes.

.

.

.

After a restless nap of a sleep, a fruitless attempt to tame her hair, a crusty free donut from a campaigning saleswoman outside the student center, and a long, long mental debate on whether she should take a zero or completely, irrevocably embarrass herself through this test for Shimura-sensei — who would oversee her entire upcoming residency — Sakura decided to just go for it. What the hell did she have to lose?

She'd forgotten to change out of what Ino had lent her, so she'd gone on the subway, walked to class, and sat through her exam in a pair of sneakers and pink-and-white striped cotton pajamas. At least they were matching. And the shirt was button-down, which was always coded as professional by default.

And yet, Shimura-sensei had not been amused. The deep wrinkles in his face only emphasized the grimace he gifted her as she turned in her test packet. Hopefully he'd chalk her inevitably failing grade up to some kind of temporary lapse in judgment or a mental breakdown. It wasn't that far from the truth.

The inordinate and unusual amount of time it took for her to bullshit her test meant that she'd missed her dogwalking window, though. And it was closer to lunchtime by the time she finally exited the science building. She knew what she had to do, and where she had to go. It took one search on social media to find out where his truck was stationed for the day, and one text to Hidan to tell him she would most definitely be late for work.

She could do this, she told herself, marching through campus, and then through the nearby park as a shortcut. She would do this. She ignored the voice nestled way back in her brain trying to feed her nonsense. She ignored the people staring at her as she made her way to the other side of the square. None of them mattered. Once the truck was in sight, parked ever so innocuously at the curb, that was the only thing she could see.

Her heartbeat thudded hard in her throat as she approached the line snaking down the sidewalk. She glanced up toward the front, wondering just how long it would take to get there — and with no short of twenty people between her and the window, it wouldn't be soon.

The customer in front of it reached their hand out to pay, and she saw a hand poke through to retrieve the cash. Something in her snapped.

Without even thinking, she abandoned her post, sprinted up to the front of the line. Some balding guy looked at her with deep offense, but he'd live. There were more important things happening, and they were hers.

"Hey!" the paying customer wailed when Sakura shoved her aside. A chorus of complaints from the people behind her joined it.

"Whoa, what's the problem?" came a voice from inside the truck, and a face appeared with it. And neither belonged to who she was hoping for.

Within the slightly rusted frame of the window was a younger guy, tan and brown-haired, and very surprisingly, roguishly hot, wearing a loose tank top. That couldn't be food safe. He was looking at her with mild perplexity — like he was trying to figure out where he'd seen her before. And then she realized she was doing the same thing, the cacophony of pissy people on their lunch break entirely negligible as she tried to place how she knew him.

"Ah," came another voice, one that was much more immediately recognizable. "Look who's here!"

Sakura looked past the guy's shoulder to find Tsume there, a sweatband keeping her hair away from her face as she cooked. And then it hit her. The guy was Kiba, Tsume's sparkly, slutty son. Who, the only other time she'd seen him, had witnessed her and her boyfriend getting spanked all the way out of his house.

He seemed to realize it just as she did. Great.

There was a smirk forming on his face. Great.

"What are you doing here?" she blurted, like if she did it loud enough it would physically smack Kiba in the mouth. And the eyes, which were roaming over her clothing choice with amusement. She didn't have time for this, for fuck's sake. Not today, and probably not ever.

"I could ask you the same thing," he said, grinning enough to show teeth. Ooh, he was wolfish, and he knew he was cute. "Don't you have some beds to rumple, hot stuff?"

The terrifying part was that she couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or genuinely flirtatious. It didn't matter though, because his eyes suddenly went wide, and he let out a yelp.

"Mom!" he griped, clearly rubbing his ass. "What the hell! I'm just — "

"No you aren't," Tsume deadpanned, bringing up an oily pair of tongs to point at him. God, these people were not food safe.

Her sharp eyes turned back to Sakura, a bit more kindly. Or so she hoped. "Kakashi-kun's out today, hun. I made too much chili to fit in my freezer, and I couldn't let it go to waste, so this little shit and I are in here street peddling."

"Oh," was all she could say to that. But then — "Out? What? Did he say why?"

Tsume and Kiba shrugged identically.

"Dunno," she said. "But he rarely ever does this kinda thing, so I don't question it. Figure it's gotta be something pretty serious." She turned to glance behind her for a second, stirred something, then looked back at Sakura. "You should call him."

"Excuse me," the balding dudebehind her interjected, "but can you sort this crap out later? You're holding up the line!"

"Hey," Kiba said, leaning through the window with what looked almost like a snarl. "We're having a conversation here! Sort your own crap out, douchebag!"

"Kiba!" Tsume violently shoved him aside. There was the very distinct sound of a thud. "This is my truck today, so I get to do damage control!" She leaned out the window herself now, staring right over Sakura's head. "If you got a problem, sir, you are more than welcome to leave. Otherwise I can show your ass what our express service looks like. Sound good?"

Sakura didn't have to look at the guy to know he was gulping back a reply. She could literally hear him swallow. She was a little terrified herself, even if it was outshone by her admiration.

"Okay, then," Tsume continued nonchalantly, as if she hadn't just threatened to shove a hot dog down some man's throat. Or up his ass. Either seemed highly possible. "Like I was saying, call him. He's probably home sick and could use some TLC."

Oh, Sakura would give him some tender loving care, alright. "Sure."

"I gotta get back to work, though. Give him a pat on the butt for me, will ya?" Tsume snickered. "For old time's sake."

"Um." Damn it, she was blushing. "Thanks for the tip."

Kiba reappeared as soon as his mom had returned to the kitchen behind them. His tank top was loose, revealing just a slight metallic shine on one spot of his chest, and his smirk had returned, now firmly planted on his face. God, he was like a good-looking Kankuro — a total glutton for punishment.

"If he doesn't want that ass pat," he said, "then you know where to find me."

Sakura decided that he deserved the Kankuro treatment. "If I want to hang someone from a clothesline by their nipple rings, I know where to find you, too."

His eyes went wide, and he brought a hand to his chest, either surprised or offended. She took off before he could say anything else, the sound of Tsume's cackle echoing out of the order window.

Every clap of her sneakers on the pavement only increased her fury. Now she had to go all the way to Kakashi's house. Why did he have to make everything so much harder than it had to be?

She was barely cognizant of the walk, ride, and run it took to get there. All she could think about was what Tsume had told her. Sick? Home? Pretty serious? What the hell did that mean?

A little part of her was happy to hear it. Maybe he was moping around his house, feeling shitty, knowing what he'd done. It almost made her feel good to think about. She was so consumed in imagining what she'd find that she was hardly even conscious of where she was. Until, that was, she saw the empty driveway of his house, the dog-chewed wooden railing of his balcony.

She paused, taking a steadying breath — her heart was beating way too fast, mostly because she'd just walked up the hill of his street, and the subway stairs before that. What was she about to see? Would he be in bed, miserable, his dogs all sad in the living room? Or worse, would he be totally, completely fine, just coincidentally too busy to go to work?

Her gut twisted. Either way, she had to confront him. She had to say what she'd come here to say.

Her legs felt heavier with every step closer to the door. One of the dogs started barking — she almost dropped her keyring when she unlocked the door, thumb and fingers sweaty on the little rubber key cover shaped like a puppy. A gift from Kakashi, not more than three weeks old, a momento from their first official date. Ugh.

She removed her shoes at the door, telling herself she wasn't hesitating. The same dog was still yapping, and Bull had joined them, and it was starting to piss her off. She could announce her own arrival, thank you very much. It felt weird enough being at his house like this as it was. Sakura kind of hated how familiar it felt to her, how much it had already settled into her bones without her realizing.

Wanting to catch him off guard, she padded into the kitchen — empty. The living room was also empty. But one look at the door to the backyard gave him away: he was sitting in a porch chair, maskless, in stained sweatpants and a shirt, a book resting on his chest and a cigarette between his lips. His eyes were either closed or just about.

Her heart twisted into her throat. He looked like he was on fucking vacation.

The door had been slid halfway open, and despite the dogs running through the opening — Urushi, Uhei, and Guruko — she ignored and stepped over them to thwack it completely ajar.

"Are you shitting me right now?"

Kakashi startled in surprise, the book tumbling off his chest and into his lap.

"Sakura." His voice was thick with smoke. He coughed a bit as he snubbed out his cigarette. It sat crunched atop a small but sizeable mountain of other cigarette butts, the smell of tobacco heavy and acrid in the afternoon heat. "Hi."

She couldn't believe this. "'Hi'? Seriously?"

Pakkun barked as Kakashi stood, and he leaned down to quiet him with a pat between the ears.

"I wasn't expecting you," he said plainly. His eyes were on Pakkun. "I was worried about you last night — "

He seemed to pause, to hesitate, but she didn't wait for him to continue. Her arms crossed in front of her chest.

"Yeah, you look real worried." All that was missing from this scene was a beer, or maybe a little cocktail with an umbrella in it.

He ran a hand through his hair. It lingered on the back of his neck. She hated herself right then for remembering exactly what the skin there felt like.

"It was clear that you wanted some space. I didn't want to make you uncomfortable."

She found herself without a response to that. Half-formed insults halted in their tracks, choking on her tongue. She couldn't really argue with that, could she? "I —"

"Sakura," he said again, this time with something else in his voice — frustration? He stood back to his full height. "Can we talk about yesterday? Please just tell me what I did wrong. I don't want...I don't want this to happen again."

So he wanted to play the victim, then. He had the audacity to try and put his tail between his legs. Her blood boiled, and the five-car pileup on her tongue made way for more.

"It's not just yesterday, Kakashi. You fucking lied to me."

Now it was his turn to be speechless. He blinked, brows raised, dark eyes confused. At least there was some expression on his face, for once.

"What do you mean?"

Sakura sucked the soft inside of her lower lip between her teeth. "You tell me."

His hand went to the back of his neck again, rubbed at the skin as his eyes found the ground. Bisuke was circling his foot protectively, his tan fur a little scruffy, his big black eyes wary of Sakura. Traitor.

"I…" Kakashi finally said after a moment. "Help me understand what you're talking about. Please. I don't —"

"It's Genma, Kakashi!" she blurted, sick of this stupid act. "It's fucking Genma! Your best friend!" Her hands went to her hips, and it suddenly occurred to her that she was still wearing pajamas. She forced more authority into her voice. "We had a whole goddamn conversation about him! Why didn't you tell me more then? Why did you hide so much from me?!"

Kakashi stood there with rigid shoulders. His lips were just slightly parted — about to say something, maybe, or perhaps shocked that she'd figured it out.

"I thought — " She saw him swallow, lick his lips. "I thought you said you'd be patient with me. I thought we discussed that I would tell you more in due time, that I was...that I was trying. What changed?"

"Isn't it obvious?" A fire burned in her stomach. She threw an accusatory open hand into the space between them. "I can't trust you! You keep going behind my back and treating my life like it's just some fucking game to you!"

"...What?"

"I'm not stupid, you know. I might not be able to do rocket science, or whatever the hell it was that you got famous for, but I'm smart enough to know when something's wrong." She desperately tried to keep the wobble out of her voice. It was just her vocal cords needing a break. That was all. "You think I can't tell what this is?"

"What are you talking about, Sakura?" His voice was lower now, clearer, more focused, and he was frowning. Oh, she was definitely onto him.

"I'm not some — some lovesick, insecure girl you can control as you please. If you did something wrong, and you fucked up, then that's it. I'm not gonna let you keep running back to me." Her chin startled to tremble. She wanted to slap herself to quell it, but all she could do instead was keep her jaw clenched. "I don't need you in order to be happy, or successful. I can do that all by myself. I've been doing it my whole life."

"Wait a minute," he said. "I've never meant to make you feel like that. I'm sorry if I have. I would never want to undermine your strength, or your hard work — "

"But you did, though!" Her voice, god damnit, broke a little on the last word. "You did! You keep things from me, and you take pity on me with money, and you don't take me seriously!" She inhaled deeply through her nose, feeling it clog with snot and incoming tears. God damn it.

"Sakura, I — "

"Everything was fine until he came along. But now I see things as they really are. You're just like him, aren't you?" Tears stuck hot at the corners of her eyes. Her vision went blurry when they leaked out. "Why didn't you tell me he was back with my cousin? You knew — "

"Genma?"

" — they shouldn't be together, that I didn't want him around her. You knew because we talked about it!"

"How do you know that they're together?" he'd said at the same time, so she almost didn't hear him. When her mind processed the words, though, they went straight through her throat.

"I saw it! But does it even matter?!" Furious, she wiped at her eye, trying to keep her composure. "Don't act like you didn't know. He's your best friend. Of course you knew."

Kakashi's hands were up, palms facing toward her. "He'd mentioned dating someone, but not..."

"See? I knew it!"

"Sakura, please. Please just listen to me." He was stepping closer, hands still up in mock surrender. "Where is this coming from? I thought you were angry with me for yesterday — "

"I am angry with you for yesterday." Her tongue felt dry and tacky. "You totally crossed a line, even after I told you not to. And then you just threw money at my problems like they didn't even matter!"

She saw him close his eyes, saw his lips press together. "That was a mistake. I misunderstood...well, a lot of things. It won't happen again."

"You say that," Sakura sniffled, breathing hard, "but what about all the times before? All the times you kept things from me or tried to brush me off by having sex with me?"

He was quiet. She waited for him this time, wiping her face with the backs of her hands, smearing salty tear tracks all over her cheeks and trying to catch her breath. For just a moment, watching him stand there silently, she wished he would —

"That's not true," he finally said, eyes open, expression the same stoic, half-asleep thing as always.

Her lip trembled. Why did he have to make everything so much fucking harder?

Kakashi took a deep breath, watching her unsuccessfully try to compose herself. And then he put his hands by his sides, looked at her dead-on with dark, steady eyes.

"I am trying to get to know you," he said, his voice low and soft. "I am trying to do this the right way. But closing those parts of yourself off — "

She physically felt herself balk at that. He could not be serious. After weeks of circling around answers about his life. Genma. His parents. His past. The pictures on his bedside. How he felt about anything.

How he felt about her.

"I'm closing myself off?" Sakura practically shrieked, the words spilling out of her like they'd been yanked from her insides. "I don't even know you!"

Kakashi seemed to fold at that. She saw his shoulders fall just a bit. Good.

"All I'm trying to say is — "

"No!" she bulldozed. Her voice was shaking, but she didn't care. "No. You had your chance to say whatever you needed to say so many times, and you never took it."

"Sakura," he pleaded, taking another step closer, but she backed away like he was infectiously diseased.

"No, Kakashi! I'm done dealing with this!" She raked a hand through her hair, pushing it off her face and holding it there. "Keep hiding everything if you want, but I'm done trying to figure you out. Have fun in your sad life with your shitty friends."

She immediately made to leave by reentering the house, but one more thing occurred to her:

"Oh," she said, whirling around to face his hunching figure, his perpetually fucking mellow eyes. "And by the way, I quit."

She didn't wait for him to respond. If he did, she didn't hear him say anything. Coward. The dogs, who'd been watching the show from behind the glass door, parted to let her pass, and she was proud of the way her heart didn't even tug at the sight of their big, sweet eyes. She stomped through his living room and kitchen like she was trying to wake the dead, and then she snatched her shoes and her bag from the genkan, and she made her way out of the front door, slamming it behind her.

Fuck this, she thought, storming through the familiar path of his street, down the stairs of the subway station, through the gates. Fuck this, and fuck him. She was so mad about it she couldn't see straight. Or maybe that was just her crying, still, her body trying to catch up to her brain.

She was probably a spectacle on the subway — sobbing, snot-nosed, in her friend's too-big pajamas and her own holey work sneakers. She saw her own reflection in the window across from her, saw the way her hair stuck up in ten different directions, and decided she was entitled to looking like a mess. This whole day had been a glorified one.

She was still out of sorts on the way to her own apartment. Wired, supercharged, her brain swirling with thought after thought and feeling after feeling. But the more she dwelled on it, the faster she felt the adrenaline wane. She was losing her momentum. Going up the stairs to her apartment felt like wading through quicksand.

This fucking sucked.

When she opened the door to her place, everything was normal, even if her kitchen was a little cleaner than she remembered it. The early afternoon light shone through her front window, over the stove in a bright wash. She frowned at it. And then she saw the clock.

Shit.

She still had to go to work, even if she was later than she'd anticipated she'd be. Hidan would forgive her. God, though she so powerfully did not want to go. She didn't feel ready to do anything but take a nap, and preferably one that lasted long enough to make these past two days nothing more than a completely distant memory. Or even something she didn't remember at all. That was preferable.

Damn it, though, she had to go to work. She couldn't afford to skip. And, she thought with a humorless laugh as she let her bag flop to the floor of the kitchen, she only had two jobs again. Excellent. She'd have to try to double her hours just to make up for that loss. Just perfect. She inhaled hard through her nose, dragging whatever was blocking her airways back into her face, exhaling wetly out of her mouth. She'd need to shower, or at least change, and she had to eat. There was suddenly a gaping void in her stomach. She wouldn't make it through the rest of the afternoon and night without eating something.

Sakura opened her fridge, mindlessly scanning the contents for something that looked mildly appetizing. And that was when she saw it.

Four little disposable containers, all neatly labeled with a familiar scratch of ink. Tamagoyaki. Soup. Rice. Extras. And on the shelf in front of them, there was a note, sticking to the edge with one of the flower-shaped stickers she kept in her silverware drawer, complete with a carefully drawn heart and a cartoon dog:

I'm sorry.

Sakura stared at it for so long that her fridge started beeping, alerting her of the temperature drop thanks to the door being open. She felt her soul snap back into her body in an instant. And with it came another round of hot, wet tears, springing into her eyes so quick that they ran right down her sticky cheeks.

She closed the refrigerator door and turned back toward the rest of her apartment, deciding she'd have the instant ramen in her cabinet instead.

.

.

.

a/n: BE NICE TO SAKURA ! ! ! she is an aries. and we all have a lot of learning and growing to do. her backstory/past (and kakashi's) will be revealed soon enough, and then we can all have a good laugh about this Angst Lite (TM).

have a good week, and don't forget to leave a comment

xoxo