Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.

--Loss--

Kurenai Yuuhi was a beautiful woman.

At the age of twenty-seven, she was one hundred and twenty pounds on the dot and about 5' 7', possessing ample curves that made many a female ninja envious. She had an elegant, heart-shaped face, crimson eyes, and a mane of chocolate-toned hair to frame them both. She lived in Kohona as a Jounin specializing in Genjustu as well as the captain of Team Eight, consisting of Hyuuga Hinata, Aburama Shino and Inuzuka Kiba; each were skilled Genin and she loved working with them.

At the age of nine, the young woman had graduated from the Kohona Ninja Academy and had already passed her Chuunin exam by thirteen.

And, at the moment, Kurenai was drunk. Not drunk enough to do anything too stupid, mind you, but drunk to the point of being unable to walk a straight line.

Anyone who knew the 'rookie' Jounin-as she was called-knew that she was very responsible and hardly ever touched a drop alcohol, let alone allow herself to lose control like this.

Her red eyes were circled with a similar shade; she had been crying. The little wooden shot glass-sized cup in her hands wavered a bit as more tears worked their way to the surface, the burn reminiscent to the sting of sakè as it slid smoothly down her throat.

/"Kurenai-sensei! Kurenai-sensei!"

Quick footsteps echoed through the passage.

"Kurenai-sensei!"

She smiled slightly as her favorite student rushed outside, into the field where she was practicing Genjutsu. The lower half of her body emerged from the tree it had been part of and she padded over, "What is it, Hinata?" When she noticed the shy girl was sobbing, the smile dropped.

"I-it's Asuma-sensei."

Kurenai's stomach dropped. Asuma, Iruka, and Kakashi had left for a mission in the Sand Village

three days ago. Had something happened to them?

"Where are they?" she demanded, resisting the urge to shake Hinata as the pale-eyed girl stumbled over her words.

"T-the h-hosp-pital," she managed at last, "Tsunade-s-sama is seeing t-to them."

Kurenai was gone in a plume of smoke.

It took the Jounin thirty-five seconds to cross the entirety of Kohona—thirty-five seconds too long, in her opinion.

She materialized in an empty hallway, the smell of disinfectants immediately hitting her nose. Through the window to her right, she could see the back of a blonde woman standing in front of what looked like a cot. She couldn't see who was lying on said cot, and pushed open the door.

The Hokage was speaking to a silver-haired ninja quietly and, upon Kurenai's entry, she fell silent. The ninja on the cot, however, tried a smile, though it looked painful, "Kurenai."

"Kakashi... how are you?" A stupid question, she berated herself; the man was obviously in pain. The bandanna that was normally wrapped around his lower face had been removed and she saw that he had nicks and cuts all over his face. Upon further inspection, he was bare-chested save the bandages wrapped around his torso. They were soaked in blood.

"I've been better." Kakashi chuckled despite his situation, "do you mind bringing me my copy of Icha Icha Paradise? Tsunade-san wouldn't let me get it."

Tsunade shot him a glare that would have made a normal man cower in fear, "You leave this room before you're better and I break your other leg along with whatever ribs are still intact."

That being said, she turned her attention to Kurenai, who looked hopeful, "Where is Asuma?" The Hokage heaved a sigh, suddenly feeling far older than she was. Wordlessly, she lead the Jounin out of Kakashi's room.

"... Asuma was killed yesterday by special Ops from the Sand"/

The funeral had been simple, composed of friends of Asuma and his team, Yamanaka Ino, Akimichi Chouji and Nara Shikamaru. They buried him in the forest at the roots of one of the largest trees, a place where he and his team had trained often. Upon lowering the casket into the earth, Ino had burst into tears on Shikamaru's shoulder, leaving the young man to awkwardly pat her shoulder in an attempt to comfort her. Chouji, for once, was not carrying food and his expression was downcast.

Kurenai herself had proudly managed to hold back her tears even when they were all asked to say something about the deceased. She had kept her cool when they had all thrown a shovel full of dirt over the casket of her first crush and even when everyone had shown pity for her predicament. It was only when she was within the safety of her own apartment walls that she had broken down.

Memories were a horrible thing. They crept up on you when you least expected it, taunting you with how things once were... and are no longer. Memories of her and Asuma, young, carefree... She had been in love. If she was being brutally honest, however, she no longer saw Asuma as she once did.

And three days after the funeral she still hadn't slept—instead, taking to drowning her troubles in alcohol. But she mourned him as a good friend, nothing more. Her hair had lost its luxurious shine, her skin its healthy glow and dark circles had formed under the woman's eyes- proof of her sleepless nights; her entire person had wilted like a plant without sunlight.

The Jounin raised a hand and immediately the bartender was at her side pouring her another shot glass of suigei (1). She downed it before he could leave and it was filled again; one thing Kurenai loved about this bar was the fact that, as long as she had money, no one bothered her about how much alcohol she was consuming—something she had learned from hanging out with her best friend Anko.

Speak of the devil...

The purple-haired ninja had entered the bar, squinting in the low lights. She was decked in her usual fish net shirt and beige jacket, not that Kurenai could tell at the current moment, her mane secured in a spiky ponytail. She angled her head, seeming to be looking for someone and, when Kurenai blinked, she was gone.

It took the Genjutsu expert a full minute to register the fact that the shot glass was no longer held in her numb fingers and that there was someone seated on the barstool next to her. Blinking like an owl, she slurred, "Gimme 'dat back... Anko"

"No. You need to stop."

Astonishing. Mitarashi Anko, the famed 'psycho ninja' of Kohona was telling her to stop drinking? Most nights, she had to fight to get her friend to even touch alcohol. Normally, Kurenai would have to drag the special Jounin's incapacitated body back to her apartment room and usually stayed the night to help her with a wicked hangover the next morning.

Kurenai would have protested more, but Anko was already slapping down some yen and tugging her to her feet, "C'mon, let's get you home."

"Nu-uh." She shook her head, immediately regretting the action as the room spun off kilter. There was no way in Hell she was going back to her apartment just yet; that was where she had last seen Asuma and she avoided thoughts of him as best she could. She just wanted to forget...

"Well then, do you want to come home with me? I'm not leaving you here." There was a sort of determination in Anko's chocolate-toned eyes and the Jounin found she couldn't argue.

"...'kay."

During the entire walk to Anko's apartment, Kurenai relied heavily on her companion's support. As she leaned into her best friend, she let out a sigh and her speech wasn't as impaired as she asked, "Did I do something wrong, Anko?"

"What?"

The scent of alcohol on Kurenai's was strong as her warm breath tickled Anko's throat, "Asuma... did he die because I wasn't good enough? Because I never-"

"Shut up." There was no malice in Anko's voice, just resignation, "Kurenai, he loved you and wouldn't want to see you do this to yourself."

'He loved me, sure, but...'

Kurenai had come to realize that someone else had rather violently bashed their way onto her heart.

There was silence until they arrived and Anko fished some keys out of the pocket of her jacket, opening the door seconds later.

Through the foyer they went, passed Anko's cramped kitchen and into her bedroom. "Bathroom's here," she said, gently prodding Kurenai in the direction of a door to the left, "do you need help?"

The older ninja turned to face her friend and shook her head, swaying a bit as her eyes locked with chocolate toned orbs, "Thank you, Anko." She leaned forward and very gently kissed Anko's cheek, "You're a great friend."

Anko blinked, surprise showing clearly on her face. It melted into a warm smile, "What are you talking about? It's what friends do."

The door shut and there was shuffling as Kurenai shed her clothes. Once the water started, Anko wandered off to clean; her house, as usual, was a disaster zone.

--x--

'Geez, Kurenai, why do you have to be so damn innocent?' Anko felt terrible, but the way her best friend's eyes filled with trust and affection made the not-so-pure part of her mind (and it was a big part) work in hyper-drive.

It really did hurt to see Kurenai become a mere shell of the caring, hard working woman she once was; the one she had fallen so hard for. What bothered Anko the most was that the red-eyed Jounin was retreating deeper and deeper into herself, not even bothering to train her students.

Something that Anko had been doing over the last three days in her stead; something she swore she'd never do after being duped into becoming a proctor in the Chuunin exams, because she hated kids. Yeah, well, so much for that.

With a sigh, Anko went to her sink and began the grueling task of washing the pile that had accumulated, mind elsewhere.

Her objective, upon entering the bar, had been to retrieve her friend and rescue her from herself. So far so good. 'Now, I just need to make sure I don't screw up anything...'

Of course, she almost had when Kurenai had kissed her; had almost spilled her guts right then and there. It was just a kiss on the cheek, granted, but it had spurred the purple-haired Jounin's heart into doing somersaults. Fortunately, that had been one of the rare moments that Anko hadn't just blurted whatever was on her mind, damning the consequences. Moments like that seemed to occur more and more when she was around Kurenai.

A bit belatedly, Anko realized that the shower was off. She turned off the tap and quickly dried her hands to go check on her house guest.

'Kami...' Kurenai was naked and dripping wet from her shower. She looked up upon Anko's entrance, expression sheepish, "Do you have a towel?"

Berating herself for gawking at the miles of pale skin, long legs and feminine curves ('dammit'), the special Jounin quickly went into the bathroom and retrieved a towel. Rather than handing it over like a sane person would have, she began to pat her friend dry.

"I can do that myself, Anko," Kurenai chuckled, although she made no move to stop the younger woman. She did, however, notice that Anko flushed when drying off her more... intimate areas.

'Does she really think I can't tell?'

Straightening, Anko noticed the amused look on her friend's face and arched a questioning eyebrow while motioning for Kurenai to sit on her bed, "What?"

"It's nothing."

Then began to the task of drying the dark, silky mass that was Kurenai's hair. The younger woman's ministrations were gentle and the silence was comfortable despite Kurenai's state of undress. But why wouldn't it—they were best friends, right? Yet, somehow, Kurenai felt like there was a bit more than friendship.

"... Hey, Anko?"

"Hnnn?"

"Thanks."

"You already said that." Her tone was teasing and she gave the long hair a gentle tug.

"No, I mean for being here for me. I love you, you know that?" 'More than you seem to realize.'

Suddenly, there was a lump in Anko's throat and she could only nod in response. Kurenai meant like a sister or a best friend, of course, nothing more...

She cleared her throat, and rose, "You should get some sleep."

Kurenai crawled to the top of the bed and slid under the sheets and Anko couldn't resist leaning over and kissing the crimson-eyed woman on the forehead, "Good night, Kure-chan."

An idea hit Kurenai, just then.

Anko was moving to turn off the lights, when a warm hand caught her wrist, "Wait."

She half-turned to face her friend, a single eyebrow cocked in question.

"Stay with me. Please?"

There you are, chapter one. Let me know what you think! I'll have chapter two (the last one) in a bit.

-Distraction

(1)Type of sakè