title: word war one
pairing: SasuSaku
summary: Sakura and Sasuke engage in a Battle of Wits. Sadly, only one of them is armed.
warning: OOC (read: childish) Sakura, and OOC (read: not-maniacal) Sasuke. This piece is determined to be lighthearted. Also, language: I use the F-word. Once. :/

notes: I am usually so mean to Sasuke in my "Humor" pieces (and yes, I use the word loosely). I've turned him into a girl, I've had him lose his pants (to Sakura, but still!), I've had him pseudo-gay for Naruto—I figure Sakura can take the heat just as well as he can. :) I still love them both.

Also, just in case: The GRE is the tests one takes to get into graduate school, and the LSAT is tests one takes to apply to law schools. The GMAT is for admission to business school, and the MCAT is for medical school admissions.

disclaimer: Naruto is not mine. LSATs, MCATs, GMATs and GREs are the properties of the ETS.

It was on a Friday in late February that one Uchiha Sasuke sat down at the same library table as one Haruno Sakura.

Sakura had gauged his movements from the moment he had entered the library—she had, after all, chosen her seat for the precise reason that it allowed her an excellent view of all the exits and entrances—and had tutted disapprovingly at the way he had left the door open for the chill to follow him inside. Of course, he'd bring winter with him, she thought uncharitably, as she eyed his progress past the metal detectors.

Sakura observed—with distaste—as the brunette haired receptionist at the front desk fluttered her eyelashes coyly in Sasuke's direction, and experienced an unwelcome feeling of relief when he remained all but oblivious to her apparent "attractions".

He did, however, make it past the lovelorn miss with an open cup of coffee in hand (!!)

Sakura found herself setting her pen down for the third time since Uchiha Sasuke had walked in. She was, in fact, Righteously Appalled.

"He thinks he's so much better than everyone," she whispered lowly, remembering the way the receptionist had loudly insisted that Sakura throw out her own thermos full of green tea before entering the stacks. "Like he's not subject to the same rules as the rest of us mere mortals," she groused to herself. "That's exactly why he—"

At that, she cut herself off before she could make any Telling Comments. What was in the past, she had long decided, was there for a reason, and really, it did not matter that he was so much better than—

Anyway:

That decided, Sakura rearranged her green scarf so it hung more comfortably around her neck—it was, suddenly, feeling more like a noose than anything else. It would be best to simply ignore it—and Him—and continue her work.

Alone.

-

This had, of course, been the plan anyway.

Until one Uchiha Sasuke had sat down.

Right. In. Front. Of. Her.

-

His eyes were fixed on the novel in his right hand—Rilke's Letters to a Young Poet—and after regular intervals, he would lift his hand to his mouth, lick his pointer finger with a quick swipe of his tongue, and then turn the page. He hm'd every so often—as if he were actually absorbing the nuances of the work, which was, in Sakura's estimation, absolutely absurd; clearly, he was just looking for the pictures—and, in short, looked the very image of a Serious Reader.

When it appeared that he was not inclined to move—there were, after all, a veritable sea of tables around them, all perfectly empty, Sakura thought, and all perfectly not occupied by me—Sakura huffed irritably, and bit back the urge to tell him how unhygienic it was for him to be transferring his nasty, nasty germs onto the library book (and, consequently, to all the innocent people who were going to borrow it after him—again, Sakura noted, so thoughtless!) and decided, instead, to open with a more conventional greeting.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

He slanted a Look at her—one that was exasperated and amused all at once.

Sakura wanted to throw a dictionary at his perfectly-symmetrical face.

"Clearly," he said—and so patiently, damn him—"Clearly, I am reading." He gestured to the book in his hand, and then waved it a little, in case Sakura had missed it the first time.

"I can see that," she ground out. She slammed the pen in her hand down next to her spiral-bound three-subject notebook, and focused all of her attention on glaring at him. Perhaps, she thought hopefully, he'll be intimidated and then Go the Fuck Away. "Why are you doing it here?"

He raised a perfectly arched brow, and smirked. (Sakura refused to find it or him adorable.)

"This is a library," he said, enunciating his words as though they might help her understand. "Origin, Latin librarium, which means—"

"Shut. Up," Sakura said, seething now. "I know what a library is, Sasuke-kun. And since when did business-slash-political-science majors start caring about etymology?"

In response, Sasuke did nothing more than gesture to his book (again), as though to remind her that he was reading, and that it was Very Important that he not be disturbed by such trivial questions.

"Also," he said, "you've conjugated 'mock' incorrectly."

"Your face is conjugated incorrectly," she spat out, before hastily checking her notes. Sasuke was, after all, rarely (if ever) wrong. She kind of hated him for that.

"That's not what you said last night."

"If you don't shut up," Sakura said, squeezing her pen so hard that it was a wonder it hadn't exploded yet, "I swear on that tomato vine trellis you built in our backyard that I will end you and your future children before you even have them."

"Fine," he said, snapping the book closed, and gazing at her with his stupid dark eyes. (Sakura was so not attracted to them. At all.)

"That's right, Sasuke-kun—"

"You'd only be hurting yourself though," Sasuke continued.

Sakura chose to ignore that comment (though she could not help her blush). After a while, he began to read again, and she continued to work, their silences punctuated by the brief slurping sounds of Sasuke enjoying his black coffee. Sakura's patience—already tested—snapped.

"You know freaking well, that I am angry with you and have been for the past two weeks, and that when I am angry at you, I don't want to see you. You know that, don't you Sasuke-kun? No, don't answer, I know you do."

"I do do," he said seriously, though Sakura swore there was more than a hint of amusement in his eyes as he answered her.

"Shut up! You," she said, whispering as loud as she dared—they were, after all, still in a library—"are trying to piss me off, aren't you?"

A pause. And then:

"Yes."

Sakura's jaw dropped at that; she had not expected him to answer her so candidly. She slumped in her seat, and then, utterly defeated, rested her head in her hands. All the while, Sasuke watched, fascinated.

"You're so stupid," she said, the words muffled by her purple cardigan.

"My GRE scores beg to differ," came the blithe answer.

At the reminder, Sakura's head shot up, and she threw him a look that could have melted bedrock.

"I hate you," she said simply, as she began to pack her belongings.

"Of course you do," Sasuke acknowledged gracefully. "That's why we're dating."

"We are not dating," Sakura said. "I broke up with you, remember? Or have you blocked that out because the thought of living without me is too bleak a future to contemplate? Because if you say that, I'll consider forgiving you."

Sasuke brushed the nonexistent dust off of his novel, and sighed.

"No, I remember that. I just think you're stupid—"

"What! Excuse me?"

He scowled at her, and gestured pointedly at the few straggling students who were eyeing Sakura malevolently for her outburst. She colored at the attention, but bristled again, when Sasuke gave her a reproving look.

"You didn't let me finish, and you're making a scene again, Sakura—stop it. And we both know that you didn't really break up with me," he continued as he led her outside.

"I did too break up with you," Sakura said angrily, as she zipped up her coat. " Sort of. Or something. And, anyway I did so with good reason, too!" Despite herself, she allowed him to direct her to his car. It was just as well. He ought to bring her back to her apartment—it was the least he could do to make amends.

"You 'broke up' with me," Sasuke said, employing air quotes as he disengaged the car alarm, "because I did better than you on the GREs. Which neither of us even needed to take, by the way—we already know which schools we're going to next year."

Sakura turned away at that reminder—she and Sasuke had indeed suffered through their respective Hells (her MCATs, and his GMATs).

"You were the one that made me take them with you for fun."

"Yes, well, I didn't think you'd score higher than me!" Even as she said it, Sakura realized how childish it sounded.

"Sakura," Sasuke said impatiently, as he stopped at a red light. "You outscored me in the mathematics portion."

"And you killed me in the verbal section.The verbal section, Sasuke-kun—I mean, what the hell? You don't even speak."

He threw her a look that appeared vaguely offended.

"It doesn't matter, Sakura," he said, as he pulled onto the highway. "Get over it—you're too competitive when it comes to things like this, and it's really annoying, and sometimes illegal. Remember what you did to Hyuuga Neji when he beat you for valedictorian?"

"Hm," Sakura said dreamily, as though she were reliving her triumph, "Tsunade-sensei had the hardest time getting that gym whistle out of his throat."

"You're just lucky that cousin of his managed to convince him not to sue. So you'll stop," Sasuke said, as he pulled into his off-campus house.

"No," Sakura answered quickly. "No, I have a better idea."

At the unmitigated glee in her voice, Sasuke suppressed the urge to roll his eyes.

"What now," he said blankly.

Sakura smiled.

"Free up your schedule, Sasuke-kun—we're taking the LSATs."

I have a Grey's-based oneshot coming (as requested by one Pina, or Pinaface, or ohwhatsherface). So yes!