Kitty-chan: Hey guys . . . Um, well I don't usually do this, but since this is one of my most popular stories, I decided to look back on it to see what made it so popular. While I did so, I saw that there were a lot of plot-holes and grammar errors and stuff, so I decided to rewrite it. Same story line but better.

Sakura: Kitty-chan does not own Naruto.

Chapter 1

It was cold outside, so very cold that Sakura almost skipped school in order to avoid the frigid air. She didn't like school anyways, with its hateful students, dreary appearances that made her want to fall asleep in all the classes, and overpriced but terrible food. The only thing that kept her from staying home was the fact that she didn't want to stay home.

Why is it so cold in September? She thought bitterly, trying to keep warm in the hoodies that she had put on that morning. School had just started and the weather was already too much for the pinkette.

Sakura was a small, thin girl with shoulder length petal pink hair, sea-foam green eyes, a pale but clear complexion, and a gentle smile that rarely showed. She wore whatever she could afford on her own. She was emancipated from her parents, refusing to conform to the strict standards of her uptight parents.

Sakura was a practical person. She kept a job—as crappy as the pay may have been—and earned enough to pay for her school lunches, bus fair, rent, food for dinner every night, and new clothes when her old ones were wearing out. They may not have been the best clothes, but they were comfortable and they were cheap; and the bus was not the best one in the world, but it still managed to get her to and from school and work.

Sakura was also pretty smart, even had the highest GPA in her grade. She knew it sounded stuck-up, but people bored her. She had tried at friendship one time but found reading to be more compelling than listening to someone go on an on about uninteresting topics. It would have been better for her to find someone with common interests, but the young pinkette found it easier to bury herself in the books she loved.

The young girl didn't let her peers' words to get to her; she simply ignored them and went on her quiet way. This caused many people to despise her and make fun of her even more. People thought she was stuck up or that she thought she was too good to hang out with anyone in the school. It wasn't long before she began to hate her school almost as much as she hated staying at home . . . but she went anyways. It was better than staying in an empty apartment all day.

So Sakura caught the early bus to her school as she did every morning, and she made it to the school—early as usual. She liked coming to school early. That meant she was teased less often. No one would see where she hid in the courtyard until the first bell rang for class.

She regretted coming to school almost immediately though. That morning was one of the coldest mornings of the winter, and the bus had no heat—or air for that matter—and she was having a difficult time heating up in the hoodies she had slipped on that morning before leaving for school. Sakura almost regretted having to go to school and sit out in the cold for the hour that it would take for the bell to ring.

She parked and made her way quickly to her hiding place—one of the largest trees in the courtyard. Sakura sat there, huddled on a thick tree branch, reading a large book. Hardly five minutes had passed before she realized that she wasn't alone in the tree. Sakura glanced away from her book long enough to see that someone else was sitting on a branch not five feet away from her. She almost fell off her branch when she caught sight of him.

The person sitting in the tree was rumored to be one of the few most volatile students in the history of their school: Sasori Akasuna. It was rumored that he was admitted to a juvenile detention center more than three times in his life, he abused drugs, and he was a Satanist along with his group of friends—most of which were in their last year of high school—who were apparently just as dangerous if not more than he was.

It was a good thing Sakura didn't believe in rumors.

But she wasn't stupid. She had seen his violent side before, and it wasn't something she ever wanted to wheedle out of him. Despite his outward lack of interest toward anyone, she had caught him taking up for one of his friends one time. He wasn't the one who had started the fight either.

Sasori Akasuna was a mystery to Sakura, and—while frightening—he was pretty fascinating. Everything from his appearance to the way he seemed so alert yet distant intrigued Sakura as she blatantly stared at him.

Sasori had messy blood red hair, a clear but deathly pale complexion, and the prettiest shade of brown eyes that Sakura had ever seen. He had a thin ring of black eyeliner around his eyes and wore a lot of black and red and had a few piercings in each ear and one on his lip. To be blunt, Sasori was goth.

He sat on the branch with earbuds jammed in his ear, and if Sakura listened hard enough, she could hear the faint blast of his music.

She guessed that he hadn't noticed her crawl into the tree or he would have said something, and since he wasn't bothering her, she wouldn't bother him. Sakura turned back to her reading, leaving Sasori alone to listen to his music.

It was only a few minutes later when the bell rang; the loud ringing startled Sakura slightly. She snapped her book shut and jumped from the tree. It was mere seconds when she realized that Sasori had followed suit.

How did he know class was starting? His music is way too loud for him to hear the bell, she mentally fretted.

He saw you leave. Duh, stupid, her inner voice answered. Sakura almost cringed as her second personality suddenly decided to rear its ugly head. Inner—what she called her second personality—was one of the reasons she didn't like staying at home. Being at home meant she had a lot of quiet time, meaning that she had more time to listen to her crazy half gripe about what went on that day.

Yeah, but I could have been just getting up to get something. How do I know for sure he's not just some creepy stalker?

He was wearing a watch. Besides if you're never really seen around the school before class starts in the morning, why would you get up and reveal yourself after so many years of staying undetected in the mornings? I'm pretty sure he picked up on that.

. . . Good point . . . Sakura continued on to her first class, her nose buried deep in her book again. Reading and walking was a talent she had picked up long ago in order to avoid the gazes of the other students. It didn't stop them from slapping the book out of her hands sometimes or from shoving her over when she wasn't expecting it, but Sakura would always just pick up her book and continue on as if nothing had happened.

Once in her classroom, Sakura closed her book, placing it on top of her history textbook and notebook on her desk, and waited patiently for class to start. When the bell rang, signaling the start of class, her teacher instructed them to all take out a red pen—they would be doing peer reviews on their history reports. Sakura reached over in her pack, searching for a red pen, and suddenly she heard a loud thwack. She bolted upright in her chair and noticed that all her books and papers had been shoved to the floor.

"Gosh, you're such a klutz, Sakura," the girl sitting beside Sakura giggled. Ino Yamanaka. She was the most popular girl in their school and also the head cheerleader of their high school cheer squad. She had long platinum blond hair that was always pulled into a high ponytail, her bangs swept to the right side of her face. She had a dark tan, crystal blue eyes, and always wore the best clothes money could buy—in other words; she was the exact opposite of Sakura.

She and Sakura had used to be friends. But that was before Ino decided that Sakura was a freak just like everyone else had decided. Ino left Sakura to live the popular life, leaving the pinkette to struggle to regain her bearings.

Sakura didn't say anything as she picked up her things, refusing to play Ino's little mind games.

"Jeez, with as much as you talk you might as well be as useful as all those goth losers in this school," Ino snorted.

"That's enough, Miss Yamanaka," their teacher declared, ending Ino's babble.

Class continued with little to no more interruptions, and Sakura had a pretty peaceful morning. When the bell rang, she packed almost everything away and made her way out of the classroom with her nose buried in the book, weaving back and forth through the crowd.

Suddenly, she was walking down a silent and practically empty hall. It was strange since all the halls were usually loud and boisterous, but she kept walking; her class was not that far away.

Within that quiet hall though, there was enough peace for her to concentrate better on the story, and she had become more engrossed in the book. Her pace slowed, and when she rounded the next corner, she ended up walking straight into something.

Sakura jumped backward in shock and lost her balance, but instead of hitting the ground, like she had expected, a pair of hands grabbed her by the shoulders, holding her upright. She then realized that she hadn't run into something, she had run into someone.

The air was really tense as she glanced up through her bangs and came face to face with Sasori. She grew paler if that was even possible, her eyes locking with his. Everyone else in the hall didn't even dare to move as he decided what he wanted to do to Sakura.

"You really shouldn't read while walking . . ." he murmured, righting the now confused girl and walking off. Sakura stood still, trying to wrap her mind around what had just happened. When the bell rang, she inwardly swore and rushed off to her class. After apologizing to the teacher for her lateness, she sat down in her seat and started doing the class work.

Her class was acting really odd though. Instead of the usual chatter, everyone was whispering. Sakura didn't really care what they were talking about, it just intrigued her that they were so quiet about it. She shrugged it off, going through the motions and finishing her classwork. Once she was done she pulled out her book and started reading again.

She couldn't focus this time though. Her mind kept wandering back to the reason why the halls had been so quiet, and it wandered over to Sasori and how different he had reacted to her compared to her peers. He was nicer than she had expected him to be, or at least nicer than a lot of her other classmates made him seem.

His eyes seemed so sad . . . she thought to herself as she sat in her third block class, drumming her fingers on the desk as she waited for the bell to ring.

Out of all the amazing features that guy had, all you can think of is that 'his eyes looked sad'? I mean, come on. The guy was a total hotty with a capitol H, Inner replied condescendingly. Sakura blushed several shades of red at that comment.

What is wrong with you? I can't think like that about someone I don't even know. Even if I did know him, I still couldn't think like that; it's embarrassing, she responded shyly.

You're no fun, the voice pouted.

And that's why I have you—to think perversely for me, Sakura grumbled. Inner was going to say something but was cut off by the bell, giving Sakura a chance to push the voice into the recesses of her mind.

This time Sakura walked through the hall without her book. She was afraid that she might run into Sasori again if she was reading. Though she soon regretted abandoning her book because now she noticed all the looks she was given as she walked down the hall. Sakura kept her eyes glued to the floor, feeling very out of place without her book.

"Hey, Freak!" she heard a too familiar voice call her. Ignoring the person she kept walking, not wanting to admit that she was used to being called a freak.

"Hey, Freak, I'm talking to you!" the voice shouted again, closer this time. Ino grabbed Sakura by the arm and turned her around. Sakura stood there, not looking at the blond.

"Let me see your Chemistry homework, I didn't do mine last night so I need the answers," the cheerleader demanded. Sakura stood there, waiting for Ino to let go of her arm, and within seconds she did.

"I'm talking to! Let me see your Chemistry homework," the blond snapped, putting one hand on her hip and holding out her hand to take the work. Sakura simply turned around and started walking away. Ino wasn't having that though, she grabbed Sakura by the arm, turned her around, and went to slap her but was stopped when someone suddenly grabbed her wrist. Ino hadn't noticed that the hall had gone quiet.

"It's not nice to hit innocent people," a soft voice declared, scaring the color out of Ino. "I think you should let her go," Sasori suggested, still holding on to Ino's wrist. The blond let go of Sakura as if she had touched a hot pan. Once Sakura was out of her grip, Sasori let Ino go and headed down the hallway. Sakura stared at his retreating form as Ino rushed away, now too afraid to even look in Sakura's direction.

I wonder what that was all about . . . she thought to herself.

Ooh, maybe he llllikes you, Inner giggled. (Happy reference! Yay!)

In your dreams, Sakura scoffed.

That means it would be in your dreams too, the voice replied, and if she had a body, Sakura was sure she would be waggling her eyebrows.

No way!

So then it's not in my dreams?

Yes . . . I mean no . . . I mean, ugh! Shut up you're so annoying!

Is it normal to call yourself annoying? Hm. . . Maybe you should get some help.

Shut up!

Nope.

I hate you.

You don't have to like me; you just have to put up with me.

Not if I really don't want to.

I guess . . . Wait, hey! What's that supp-

Inner was cut off as the tardy bell for her fourth period class rang.

Shit! Now I'm late! Thanks a lot! Sakura thought, running. That was my fourth tardy this semester too, so now I have detention.

It'll get better. Don't worry, Inner assured.

You really think so? Sakura asked.

Nah, I was just messing with you, the voice laughed, making Sakura wish she could punch her inner self.

Man, I'm such a jerk! she thought to herself as she shoved her inner into the depths of her mind again. She had finally made it to classroom and knocked on the door. Seconds later the door swung open, revealing her teacher.

"Hello, Miss Haruno. So nice of you to finally join us," he replied with a grim smile. "You do realize that this was your fourth tardy this semester, don't you?" he added.

Sakura nodded, staring dejectedly at the floor.

"You have detention with me tomorrow afternoon. Try to be on time," he declared and let her enter the classroom.

Sakura entered and made her way to the only area of available seats: in the back of the class. Usually she would sit in the front of the class so that she would be the first out of the room, but with her being late for class, it meant she had to sit in the back of the room. She put her bag behind her seat after pulling out her notebook, pen, and highlighter. It was only when she turned back around that he came in her line of view.

Sasori sat in the back corner, staring out the window. He sat unaware of her gaze, but Sakura was sure if he turned his head in the slightest he would notice her. She quickly turned her head away from him, but couldn't do the same with her thoughts.

When did he start coming to this class? she questioned herself.

I do-

"Well, Miss Haruno, since you were late to class, it seems you will be paired with Mr. Akasuna. Since he is the only available person without a partner," her teacher declared.

"I'm sorry for the inconvenience. Mr. Akasuna will inform you of the procedure. Okay, class, take the rest of this time to discuss the project," the older man commanded.

Sakura glanced worriedly at Sasori before getting up and making her way over to the dark boy. She sat down in the seat next to him and stared at the speckles on her desk. Her face reddened in embarrassment at the thought of having to communicate with Sasori.

"For the project, we have to find a look-alike from before the late twentieth century, and then write a five page report on their life," a familiarly soft voice informed her.

Sakura jumped in her seat and looked at Sasori. She then turned away and stared at her desk.

"Then what is the relevance of being placed with a partner?" she asked quietly.

"Ah, she speaks . . ." Sasori muttered. "That's the difficult part. We have to find our doppelgangers in the same region, and we have to find a way that the two interacted in some way. Then based on that relationship, we have to write a short story that revolves around them—five pages max," he answered.

"Well, that shouldn't be difficult," Sakura murmured wryly.

"Why do you say that?" he asked.

"I honestly don't think there are a vast amount of females prior to the late twentieth century that have naturally pink hair," she replied, giving Sasori a look that said I-can't-believe-you-just-said-that.

"Well, that's the tricky part. Iruka-sensei said that hair color, size, and age do not matter since many women starting with the early twentieth century and before didn't worry about dying their hair or maintaining a certain weight," he informed. Sakura wrinkled her nose in distaste, tempted to tell Sakura that her hair was not dyed.

"And then age would be irrelevant since it doesn't matter what the age of the person is as long as they resemble us," Sakura finished for him; Sasori nodded in confirmation.

It was silent for a few seconds before Sasori leaned in closer to Sakura and whispered quietly.

"You know, everyone is staring at us," he informed, the corners of his mouth twitching upward if only slightly.

Sasori's close proximity caused the shy girl to blush profusely, and when she glanced around the classroom to see that in fact everyone in the room was watching them out of the corner of their eyes. Sakura's eyes widened slightly and she immediately stared at her desk again, her hair falling in her face and hiding her blush.

"Why would they be interested in our conversation? I mean it can't be any more compelling than their irritatingly incessant chatter," the pinkette grumbled.

"It's not really our conversation that's so interesting, it's our talking. They're amazed at the fact that we're actually speaking, when they've most likely spent all their time in high school trying to get either of us to talk and no one has succeeded," he explained.

"Well, then what sets me apart from the rest? Why would you talk with me?" she questioned.

"I have to in order to make a good grade," he answered with a straight face.

"Well, that doesn't necessarily mean you have to talk to me. You could communicate with subtle body language, the passage of the instructions to inform me of our task, or you could do your half of the project then pass it over for me so I can do my part," she suggested.

"True . . . And if you've made all those suggestions, why didn't you choose one? What makes me so different?" he asked. Sakura paused at that declaration. She thought about how he had been so kind to her within the past few hours, and he barely even knew her.

"Because . . . You have been nicer to me in the past few hours than anyone has been to me in my entire life," she whispered, not looking him in the eyes.

Sasori didn't say anything more after that comment. He was silent for a few moments before clearing his throat.

"Well, then how do you want to do this project?" he asked her, changing the subject.

"Well, I was thinking that maybe we should divide the time we have to work on this project evenly throughout the days so that we may be able to record the information required thoroughly," the young girl babbled.

"You know when you talk a lot, you have a proper way of speaking," Sasori noted, raising a brow.

"Oh," she mumbled, her eyes widening in embarrassment, "I apologize if my babbling is difficult to comprehend. If you have trouble understanding I could use a more ignorant way of speech . . . I'm just a little nervous," she admitted.

"That's fine. I understand you. It's just an observation," he shrugged. It was quiet for a second.

"You know you're more tolerable than people portray you as. I was expecting someone cold and anti-social," Sakura observed.

"Those assholes think I'm some sort of dark lord because I wear dark clothing, and I don't conform to their social standards. They judge before they get to know someone," he scowled. Sakura flinched at his vulgar language but nodded in understanding. She glanced down at the project syllabus while Sasori fumed.

"Would you mind if I come to your house this afternoon from four to six. Based on this syllabus, if we spent two hours everyday after school on this project we should be done with research in time to take our time on actually writing the story. Do you have internet access?" Sakura asked.

Sasori raised a brow and nodded.

"May I have your address? So that I know how to get to your house?" she asked, knowing that she sounded weird.

"I'll just give you a ride. Are you a car rider, or do you have your own car?"

"I take the bus."

"Do you live in the area?"

Sakura nodded. "Just a few miles from the school."

"All right then. I guess I'll give you a ride home," he mumbled.

"You don't have to . . . I can just catch a bus. Besides I have to be at work at 6:45," she declared.

"You're working at such a young age?"

"Yes . . ."

Without another word, Sakura pulled out her book and started reading—her automatic go-to when she doesn't want to continue a conversation. Sasori didn't seem offended; he simply pulled out his sketchbook and started reading. His smooth fluid strokes across the paper soon made it difficult for Sakura to concentrate on what she was reading.

"It's not polite to stare you know," he replied.

"I'm sorry," Sakura blurted, not being able to come up with anything else to say, and turned away from him.

"Turn back around; I need the shape," he mumbled. Confused, Sakura turned back around, noticing that he was drawing the profile of a person with his or her head slanted to the side in curiosity. After finishing the outline of the body he told her that she could return to her book, but entranced by his drawing, she leaned closer to him to get a better view.

He started with the eyes, drawing them opened fully, then shading in the lashes, pupil, and irises expertly. After that he continued to the eyebrows, sketching them only slightly raised, only so much that someone with an expert eye would be able to notice it. He drew the nose and continued down to the mouth, where he drew them slightly pursed but with the bottom lip barely puckered as if the person was pouting. It only took finishing the eyes to let Sakura realize he was drawing a woman.

After finishing the woman's face, he started sketching a few lines above her eyebrows. It didn't take a genius to notice that he was working on her hair. Her hair ended up being long, spilling over her shoulders in a waterfall of curls. Sasori finished the picture by shading in the faint curve of her collarbone and then drawing the neck of the t-shirt she was wearing.

"That's a very beautiful picture," Sakura replied, looking up at Sasori's face. He smirked.

"It's a design," he declared.

"For what?"

"A puppet, or possibly a ceramic figurine."

"Do you make them?"

"Sometimes," he answered vaguely then stood up and headed toward the door. As soon as the door was opened, the bell rang and the students started rushing out of the classroom. Sakura remained in her seat, suddenly feeling a little better about working on the project with Sasori. At least she finally had something to look forward to.

Kitty-chan: Thanks for reading, and please review. Reviews make me a happy kitty ^_^