Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto or any of it's affiliates.

A/N: So I've had this idea brewing in my head for sometime. I really wanted to do a shy!Sakura centered work for a teacher/student AU and well - I love love love Tobirama/Sakura so this seemed entirely fitting. (and really, there isn't nearly enough fanfiction for them)
Obviously, Sakura is much more shy here, and I really wanted to write about the flowering of her personality, so let's see how this goes. If that's too OOC for you, I apologize.

This will more than likely be less than ten chapters, filled with enough angst to satisfy those that like it - so if you like slowburn fiction this probably isn't going to be the best read for you.

Thank you for reading!

Pairing: Tobirama Senju/Sakura Haruno

Tumblr: Shyyynobi

M

Lust for Life

Dark Paradise

She hated herself.

She hated herself for loving a married man.

Her sensei, no less.

Sakura numbly chewed on her pencil's erasure, the physical structure of anatomic parts and their conjunctions would normally bring a great amount of joy to her life — but each day she entered the large hall with seventy other students, she found her mind adrift during the lecture, lost in the way he strode across the room — wedding band glinting under the soft glow of the lights, reminding her how terrible a person she was.

If it weren't for her shishou forcing her to take this class - she wouldn't find her heart beating erratically when he passed by.

On the rare occasions where he would walk through the aisles during their test taking, her breath would hitch - hand shaking as he passed with the soft touch of his cologne peppering the air.

Her mother raised her better than this.

So she forcefully pushed aside her horrible thoughts and sat herself in the very back, hoping to hide her embarrassment for a man that glossed over her name during roll call, never offering an inkling of recognition other than the vague compliment when he would return her aced tests.

The cardinal color of his eye would draw her near, but her frailty and embarassment would force her to look away and mumble a small, "thank you."

"Tobirama-sensei!" one of the boys threw his hand up and asked a question. Sakura sighed happily in the relinquishing power that her sensei's voice held when he answered with an authority over his knowledge, breaking down the material with such ease it left her scribbling down the the notes last second, almost missing it with her pining.

Kami, he's so -

She couldn't bring herself to finish her scandalous thoughts without a hue of pink tinging her nose.

When her tangent thoughts got too far from her, she would force herself to focus and bite her lip, embarrassed by her own reverie.

Each day after class, she would leave quietly - books pressed to her chest and head bowed.

In this foreign city with her friends back at home, she felt reminiscent of her grade school self — bullied and alone. Which left her wondering if her assertive personality only came at the threshold of Ino's unwavering confidence and Naruto's rambunctious behavior.

Truly, she never felt more alone as she did in this bustling city with millions of other people.

If it weren't for her pertinent scholarship, she could be at a university closer to home — but the Tokyo Medical Hospital granted her a complete residency for her outstanding grades and internships, the one thing that she worked tirelessly for.

She waited for her shishou to pick her up near a quiet corner on campus. Although today was Friday, and the woman had an itch for the backdoor gambling casino's before her night shifts — which meant Sakura would have to wait a while.

Hopefully she didn't lose, again.

The rides were never pleasant when Tsunade Senju lost her money to a hand of blackjack.

The sound of a strained voice yelling into a phone caught her attention.

Hardly anybody harbored this area of campus — most students fled this cluster of buildings, leaving her to her thoughts and curiously she glanced around the corner to see her sensei pacing back and forth, free hand running through his white hair that stuck out at the oddest angles in premeditated anger.

"S…Sensei?" she whispered to herself, her heart tried digging a hole into the cavity of her chest at the sight of him.

She couldn't hear him, but she could see the intensity in his gaze, the way his piercing red eyes struggled to keep their composure.

Whoever he was yelling at must have made him extremely angry.

Somehow, she found herself careening closer — hoping to hear a bit of what he was saying.

"You what!" he growled evenly into the phone, "I expected you to take him today!"

Sakura kept herself pressed to the wall, chest seizing when he took a step into the open. "Why? Why are you doing this to us?"

He could see her if he took one more —

"Fine, I can't fucking believe you." He hung up abruptly, startling Sakura when he turned and noticed her standing near the street — having caught his argument.

Their eyes met.

Red and viridian.

Her red bow that tied her hair back blew gingerly with her hair — a keepsake to remind her of Ino and their budding friendship when they were children.

With a small yelp of embarrassment, Sakura grabbed her books and backpack, almost missing the fact that her shishou was waiting at the opposite end of the street. Without thinking, she ran across — refusing to turn her head back.

"Sakura!" Tsunade snapped when she entered the car, "don't run across the street blindly! You're nearly an adult you should know better!"

With a small reflexive nod, Sakura pressed herself into the seat — hoping it would eat her alive.

From her peripheral, she could see the spot of white hair in the distance still standing there.

And yes, her shishou lost that day.

xox

Two mornings later, Sakura stuffed her head onto her pillow and groaned.

She debated about not going to class.

She didn't need this class, right?

Her roommate looked up from her book, lips tightened into a frown, "if you're going to be so loud, do it elsewhere or shut up. I have a test at noon and I don't need you distracting me."

Sakura lifted herself from her bed, pink hair spilling over her shoulders wildly, "alright, Karin."

She wanted to talk back, wanted to muster the right words that Ino managed when dealing with the kids that bullied her.

It seemed so easy for her best friend.

Still, Sakura struggled to say anything - stuck in her own head, a captive voice unable to speak.

Once, the boys in her school had pulled her hair and thrown her to the ground so hard she split open her forehead and was sent to the hospital — the scar on her forehead reminded her of Harry Potter, but it was much longer and she never did get that invitation. When her mother screamed at the principle to demand what happened, Sakura couldn't find the words to speak, and claimed profusely that she fell on her own — she didn't want more attention on herself.

Other times, the girls would push her into walls or create a circle and make fun of her forehead, leaving her to run and hide her tears, red faced and quivering.

Until Ino offered her the red ribbon, and she found a semblance of a voice.

Absently, she shot a silent glare at her roommate and grabbed her ribbon.

Sakura disappeared after getting ready, deciding she would take the trains today. Fortunately, her campus was nearby and it didn't take long for her to figure out how to navigate her way through the city, at the very least — she felt comfortable enough walking through the endlessly busy streets of Tokyo.

Her distraction only lasted so long, because before long she stood at the doorway to her class — he was always early, so no matter what he would see her when she entered.

With a steadying breath, she set foot into the room.

Only a few students were already there, and as predicted he was sitting at his desk — newspaper in hand.

However, he didn't look up.

Gnawing on her lower lip, Sakura sat in her seat in the very back, bringing out her books to get ahead on the reading. Perhaps he didn't see her the other day?

It could be possible.

Tentatively, she glanced up from behind her book and looked over him.

White button up long sleeve up rolled up to his forearm with a red tie strung loosely on his neck that dragged the pop of color from his eyes, he looked as impeccable and regal as he did every other day.

She gulped, hating herself for wishing he would look at her.

He set the newspaper down and looked directly at her.

Careful what you wish for.

A furious rush of blood lifted to her cheeks and she stuffed her face in her textbook.

Tobirama stayed quiet, eyeing the younger girl in an attempt to dislodge how much she may have heard the other morning.

"Ms. Haruno," his strong voice whipped her attention to him.

Oh no.

"Yes?" she struggled to keep her composure under his strong gaze.

"I need to speak with you after class, so don't leave." It was a command, and he held no room for debate — causing the few other groups of students in the room to snicker at her dismay.

"Ok, Tobirama-sensei," she confirmed, and when he looked away she groaned to herself, why did she always do this to herself? With a sharp sigh, she did everything in her power to fight the impending amount of embarrassment that would follow at the end of the lecture.

xox

Sakura waited for all the students to leave before gathering her books and walking to the executioners block.

Not that anybody cared, or noticed.

When everyone shuffled out, Sakura stood in front of his desk as he finished collecting their term papers, "you needed to speak with me?" she riled herself — she was no push over, and in a vein attempt she tried to channel Ino's confidence.

He set the papers down evenly on the oak desk, "I saw you yesterday near the back of the buildings, I apologize for anything you may have overheard."

Her face translated the shock she felt.

He's…Apologizing?

Instead, she bowed — "no! I'm sorry sensei, I shouldn't have been listening—"

"You were listening?" he stopped, and she bit her lip — wondering why she outed herself.

She lifted herself, clinging onto the books in her hand, "well…Not really, I just happened to be there and overheard you. I didn't hear much of anything…And I would never say anything to anyone else, I swear," she finished uneasily, it wasn't as if she had anyone to tell this to.

Tobirama relented, running a hand through his thick hair — and it suddenly dawned on her this was the furthest extent of their speaking, her face bloomed with a brand new redness she feigned to hide.

He peered down at her, and she felt scrutinized under the intensity of his gaze, "you're a transfer student here, right?"

She perked at the inquiry, "yeah, I'm from the suburbs of Konoha — it's a very small city you probably wouldn't have—"

"I've heard of it," he laughed, "funnily enough — Tsunade is my aunt, you're training under her, aren't you?"

Her heart skipped a beat.

It threatened to barrel through her throat.

Somehow, the words found her before she could stop.

"Yes, she's been extremely kind to me. I plan on finishing my residency once I graduate and work at the hospital here in Tokyo," her words didn't falter — because this plan of hers had been mapped out since she entered high school, and at least in this area of her life, she felt confident.

He smiled at her, soft and light and she couldn't imagine anyone else with such a comforting tilt of their lips, "and your field of work?" he pushed the term papers into his laptop bag.

"Surgical, you should know since that's what your aunt specializes in," she teased, a small smile lit up her face, the natural way she teased him felt foreign compared to the tight lipped, forced conversations she had with Karin.

"Ah, you are right, I should have known. Your grades are exemplary so it only makes sense she would pick one of the best," he took the moment to appreciate the small gile of laughter that took over her body, "you should smile more, Sakura — it suits you."

A sweet tinge of pink kissed her face, and habitually she tugged on her lower lip — allowing his eyes to trail over the small motion, "th…thank you Sensei," she murmured happily, a new, refreshed smile plotting on her lips.

He dismissed her, and wondered why such a sweet girl always found herself sitting alone with such a lost look on her face.

That night, she went to sleep with her pillow clutched to her chest, smiling to herself and happy enough to forget that for a moment — somebody recognized her.

Though, she couldn't help but notice the strain of sadness that paraded through her teacher.

I wonder what makes him so sad…

xox

It would be another two weeks of wistful wondering, but as each class lecture came to pass, the furrow of his brow would etch itself into his forehead, and his voice strained to keep its composure. A tiredness grew within him, the normally friendly yet strict sensei wilted into a tired man. Part of her knew it was because of whoever he had been on the phone with that day.

Maybe they were both sad.

One night, she found herself deep in her shishou's study within the university, nearly all of the classes were empty, and the last train of the night already went and left, which left her without a ride. She didn't feel comfortable enough to walk home alone that far at night, and bugging Tsunade while she was at work was a hard no.

Plus, she felt guilty using her kindness so much — she could just sleep here for the night.

With only a headlamp offering her light over her surgical textbooks, the kind of tired that burned her eyes and made the words fuzzy forced her to blink and sigh — there was no use studying further for her exam if she couldn't keep her eyes open.

She turned off the headlamp when someone jiggled with the keys to her study.

With a small gasp, Sakura froze in her spot — who else could possibly have a key?

Tobirama stumbled through the door.

"Sensei?" she yelped, feeling like she shouldn't be here when she had the keys next to her.

He didn't respond, and it took a moment for him to recognize her through the darkness, "…Sakura?"

The smell of liquor trailed after him as he entered, and it took him a moment to navigate the room to find the sofa and land on it, a sour laugh on his lips.

This wasn't ok.

"What are you doing here?" he mumbled through the fog of his stupor, words slurred on a normally sharp tongue.

"I'm studying..." Sakura managed to answer, tugging nervously on the hem of her skirt.

He didn't respond, or rather - couldn't respond as he ran his hand through his hair, slowly undoing his tie and buttons on his shirt - exposing the cool air to his chest.

Sakura gulped, beguiled by the display.

"Sensei…Are you alright?" she murmured, feeling oddly perturbed at his behavior.

He laid himself down slowly, stretching tired legs before shaking his head, "no, I'm not," he glanced outside the window, sad eyes breaking her heart, "…ever been in love with someone who doesn't love you?"

The statement rooted her to the earth, and a longing chest pang throbbed under her skin, itching at her and itching at her until she chose to ignore it, "…yes," she answered with finality, dragging her hand to her chest to stop the pain.

Tobirama washed his gaze over her, "hurts, doesn't it?" his words were a delicate hush, and she could feel the heartiness of his torment, and with all of her being she wanted to drag the longing and hurt from him and shoulder it herself. Looking at him now, with his lean body extended on the couch — the moonlight bathed him in a glow that made him look ethereal…But the melancholy of his speech reminded her of the sad angels she read about as a child.

"Yes…" her voice trailed off in a soft whisper, "and when you're alone there's nothing you can do about it except try and distract yourself," she thumbed the edge of her skirt, having ever only thought about this herself.

"Is that why a pretty girl such as yourself is sitting here studying late into the night on a weekend instead of being out with your friends?" his straight forward statement sent her reeling, and from within the darkness of the room she could feel the heat rise to her face.

She realized it was a platonic statement, a girl could hope — but she would never wish to disrespect his marriage with his wife and think it was anything other than a gentle compliment.

With a hesitant, nervous laugh, she turned to her books, "…don't be silly, Sensei — I," she paused, because truthfully she didn't have any friends here.

Back home she really only ever hung out with Ino and Naruto.

"You don't have many friends here, do you?" his attention made her feel faint.

She bit her lip, it's not that she didn't try — but every time she tried she was over looked. All of the students here had long ago formed their circle of friends, she was an outsider from a smaller town.

I wish Naruto were here…

That thought crossed her mind daily, never understanding how he truly brought a ray of sunshine into her days.

Most days she also wished for Ino's unwavering confidence, and although Naruto could be annoying, there was never a lack of conversation where he would bounce around her, just happy to be around her. He even cried the day she was leaving, and just the memory of him warmed her chest.

"I don't have any," she admitted, "it's difficult to find friends when you have nothing in common with anybody here."

Her teacher raised himself from the couch, and before he could speak, Sakura decided to cut him off, "why are you here, Sensei? You look sad everyday in class…And you reek of alcohol," the boldness of her statement felt contrary to how she felt like a falling leaf in the wind, but her undeniable need to help people won over her submissive attitude.

"I don't think you want to hear that story," he loosened his tie further, but the peering eyes of his young student brimming with possibility enticed him to disclose, and the alcohol in his system opened his lips.

"I do!" she piped up, "I hate seeing how you look tired each day, I hate that you seem to carry a burden without anybody's help…I — you're my favorite teacher, and I enjoy your class…" she had to stop, by now she was blubbering, and the correct words wouldn't find her.

His lips tilted, "don't tell my aunt that, she might kill us both."

They shared a small laugh, wry and indignant - but enough to shatter the wall of formalities.

The pleading nature of her expressive eyes compelled him.

"Marital problems," he finally acquitted, "…I shouldn't be telling you this, but—" he sighed and gripped his face, obviously frustrated with his situation, and if it were't for the heavy amounts of sake in his blood, he wouldn't have opened up to her. "My wife is threatening to leave me," his statement felt resolute, and he leaned back against the couch, forcing himself to stare out the window at the infinite skyline of night time Tokyo — the millions of lives on top of one another felt minuscule compared to the loneliness they both felt.

Sakura never put much thought into marriage.

Sure, as a child she did.

Maybe once when her short term boyfriend Shisui basked in the glow of their first time that left her sore and unhappy and him verdantly brimming with happiness, but that's what girls do — right?

Instead, she focused on school.

And seeing this man wilting before her like a flower that had been plucked too soon — her stance remained firm on the matter.

She shouldn't ask, she shouldn't pry, "why?"

That sad smile returned, he leaned forward — and for a short moment she could feel his attention on her lips, they were in a quiet corner of the university.

Perhaps, just this once she could give in.

He touched a petal-colored lock of hair and twisted the strand between nimble fingers, pulling her close enough in the small area of the study to rest his hand on her thigh to balance himself. Her skin tingled, and her lips parted - drawing his attention to her innocent, widely delectable features.

"What an unusual color," he murmured — half to himself, half to her.

"Sensei?"

Tobirama, the man that had been the center of her pining for the last few months - with his thick lashes and strong arms, allowed his hand to grace over the collar of her shirt, his thumb running smoothly on her clavicle, eliciting the smallest of gasps from his student. "You're a beautiful girl, you know that?"

If she wanted - Sakura could have initiated a kiss.

Her fear ebbed her, and weakly she pulled away by his sudden compliment.

His eyes glossed over, and Tobirama removed himself - He fell on the couch, exhausted. The soft sound of his shallow breathing followed, and it made her crinkle her nose in a small delight to know that he snored once she gathered herself enough to actually think.

Did that really just happen?

To be sure, she pinched herself on her thigh.

Yep, I'm awake.

For a moment, she watched him sleep - even in sleep, she could see the furrow of his brow, the lines of worry etched into his handsome face.

In the end, she searched for the spare blankets that her shishou kept here in case of a long night of drinking and covered him to save him from the cold air. In the opposite corner she fell asleep with her head on the desk in a final attempt to study.

Contrary to the uncomfortable position, the sound of his light, pittering snores lulled her into a deep sleep.

xox

In her dreams, sometimes she flew.

Other times she could walk in a crowd and be completely invisible.

More often than not, she had a reoccurring dream where she found herself on a battle field, hands soaked in blood and a world of chaos around her, but she was there saving lives. With the power of a thousand men, she would break boulders with her fists and crack open the faces of her enemies. Then with a soft glow of her hands, she would heal the broken and with blood blinding their eyes, they would open them.

And their smiles would wake her up.

On that morning, she woke with a sense of heroism and gently laid on the couch, the same blanket draped over her but completely alone in the room.

Author's Note:
Leave a review and let me know what you think ~~