notes: i'm writing stuff for naruto after naruto has ended. great timing on my end, really.
disclaimer: disclaimed
summary: "My car—that I've had since I was sixteen, sixteen—is broken down in the middle of the desert, I was miraculously picked up by the love of my life who I'm pretty sure is actually asexual, and now we're being chased by these lunatics with guns all because of a stupid conversation I overheard? My life is like, made of suck." Or, Sakura accidentally overhears an exchange between Akatsuki members, who are now trying to kill her. Too bad Sasuke won't know she loves him to pieces before she dies in a dramatic hail of bullets.
notes2: honestly i've been planning this since like august of last year and yet.

x

well i don't know why i came here tonight,
got the feeling that something ain't right

x

(one)

The legendary Suna sun is great for tanning. Seriously, the bright rays do wonders for a girl's skin, no doubt. There are not, however, any beaches or lakes within roughly a two hundred mile radius of the capital city, which is extremely unfortunate. It's part of the reason why the home pool business is just as booming as the air conditioning business. With daily temperatures reaching ninety plus for months on end—not to mention the extra heat waves they were hit with sometimes—people needed relief.

Sakura wishes she was lying on the floor of her apartment in front of one of the many fans she owns while she basks in the air conditioning and marathons The Vampire Diaries. Instead, she is here—driving through the seemingly endless outer deserts that border Suna.

True, the a/c in her car works just fine, but that doesn't mean the ultrablinding rays of sunshine aren't piercing her windshield and driver's side window and shining straight on her exposed skin. She's cooking, she swears, and her left side feels slightly more done than her right. She can just feel the killer UVA rays giving her skin cancer already. Which sucks, because Ino has always told her that she has an enviable clear porcelain complexion.

She's studying to become a doctor, okay, she knows these things. Probably like the back of her hand, since she slaves away night and day to graduate early with full honors. There's also the fact that she is on scholarship, so, gotta keep those grades up Haruno. Don't want to get booted from one of the most prestigious medical colleges in the country, nope.

Sakura shifts uncomfortably and attempts to adjust her visor to block out the death rays, but no such luck. She huffs in frustration and cranks the volume on her radio a little higher. Taylor Swift sings back to her about exes and lists and empty spaces. She changes her hand position on the wheel and then settles back again.

Currently, she is on a one-way trip from Suna to Konoha. There's this amazing internship position available at the hospital right now, and Tsunade had practically promised it to her already. Interning at Konoha General for the summer would be great for several reasons. One being that she would be learning under one of the best doctors of their day, along with the top neurosurgeons in the world. It would also look good on her resume, right next to attending college in Suna and interning at the already famous hospital there.

Another reason was getting to visit her hometown again. She hadn't been back in Konoha for six months, give or take a few days. It was the place she'd grown up, where she made her first friends, where she'd decided that she wanted to become a doctor. Call her sentimental, but it means a lot to her.

There was also the fact that it was the complete opposite of Suna. While the desert paradise had corner bistros, open-air markets, and an almost permanent weather forecast of sunny days, Konoha was shady trees, misty mornings, and a mix of grills, food stands, and buffets. It usually snowed in Konoha during the winter, too, and Suna was almost always beyond bone dry. And hot, Suna was so hot. It was like an oven all the damn time—except at night, when temperatures took a drastic downturn that had everyone rushing for those sweaters and extra blankets they still kept around specifically for that reason.

She loves her new home, really she does, but she also misses her old one.

Not to mention most of her friends are still there. Between a part-time internship at the hospital, being the select student of leading surgeon Chiyo, and still attending classes, Sakura's spread pretty thin. She doesn't have much of a social life these days, and her best friend would be appalled to hear of it. She has befriended some people though, but that's about it. There are three of them, siblings—Kankuro, Temari, and Gaara. The last of which happens to be the mayor of Suna, and the youngest one ever.

(She has friends in very high places, okay. She is not a person to be messed with.)

Ino and Naruto are probably dying to see her—alright so, this she knows for a fact because she has received about fifty messages per best friend begging her to come home for months. She hasn't seen her parents and little brother in a while, either. At least not since they last came up to visit her, which has been close to a month. Her mother still calls her almost every day, but.

Sakura sighs and turns the dial for the a/c up. It's approaching eleven-thirty, and the temperatures are taking a real hike today. Noon is usually the hottest part of the day—there's like this law in Suna that noon is fiesta time because it's so frickin' hot nobody has the energy to do anything—and the numbers are rising fast.

She squints out at the sand and frowns when she sees mirages dancing in between dips in the blacktop and sand banks. That's all it is out here—sand, interstate, sand, a cactus or twenty, rattlesnakes, sand, the occasional roadhouse or small town, and sand. Well, and Sakura and her car.

Sakura loves her car, okay, like seriously. It's an old Volkswagen Beetle that her dad restored for her, and she's had it since her sixteenth birthday. The paint job is a pretty pale yellow and it runs like a dream, despite years of driving back and forth between school, home, and her part time job, and now from Suna to Konoha and back. She has a special bond with this car, as it has seen her through some of her best and worst times.

She'd learned to change oil and a flat tire on this car, because—and she quotes—"no daughter of mine is going off to a damn forsaken desert town without first learning how to keep up her own vehicle." Her dad has his own mechanic shop, and they'd spent hours after work and on Sundays with him teaching her how to fix basic and not-so-basic problems. Mainly because she really did need to know, but also so she didn't get ripped off.

But really, there haven't been that many problems over the years. Nothing serious, anyway. Which is why she's so confident about this trip. She had taken it in to be checked before she'd left, and everything had been fine. So far, everything was going smoothly and according to plan.

Ingrid Michaelson is singing about boys who chase girls, and Sakura nods along to the beat. They're just reaching the second verse when everything promptly goes to hell.

Her car sputters, and Sakura's eyes grow wide. The engine makes a choking noise and—no, no no no no—several more of the same sounds following. Her car is pretty much coughing and hacking, her speed has reduced greatly—seventy to twenty and still slowing down—and her car, well.

She manages to coast it off to the side of the highway before it gives one last great shudder and dies. Sakura's grip on the steering wheel is hard, her knuckles are white and her eyes are still wide. This is not good. This is not according to plan.

Prying her hands off the wheel and fumbling with the seatbelt, she practically flings the driver's door open and stumbles out of the car. She's hit with the deathlike heat instantly, and it takes her breath away. Fanning herself with one hand, she pops the trunk with the other and leans over, peering into the engine. Nothing looks out of place, or wrong, or anything. Everything seems to be fine.

But Sakura knows how looks can be deceiving, and so she pulls out her phone to call her dad. He'll know what to do about this, surely. She holds it up at eye-level and squints against the harsh glare of the almost-afternoon sun. She can barely make out the numbers to type in her passcode, but she gets in, and—

"What the hell?"

She has no service out here.

The heat is already starting to get to her, and she shields her eyes and scours the nearby vicinity for any sign of human life. All she gets in return is a scream from a hawk somewhere overhead. Groaning, she slumps against the side of her car and immediately jumps back at the contact with hot metal.

Realization hits her like a baseball to the face. She's stuck in the middle of the desert, heaven only knows how long away from any sort of civilization, and her car is—for lack of a better term—dead.

Well.

Shit.

x

Close to an hour and a half later, Sakura thinks she's started to hallucinate.

At first she'd climbed back into her car to try and soak in the last waves of cool air from before her vehicle quit, but soon it'd gotten too hot. She's extremely glad that she packed an almost excessive amount of water and juices, plus foods, before leaving home.

She flips her long braid of pink hair—totally natural, okay, she's not even joking—over her shoulder and decides that it's time to take drastic measures. There's still ice in the cooler, and it's not melted. She can hear it calling her name.

Sakura takes her floppy sunhat—what, she has extremely sensitive skin okay, and she forgot her sunscreen at home—off and pops the cooler open. The ice glints in the sunlight and she almost starts to hyperventilate. Breaking her resolve, she breathes in deeply before shoving her head straight into the medium-sized cooler. Instant relief and the coldness makes her sigh, even though the rest of her body feels like it's on fire.

A good slathering of some heavy duty SPF could really come in handy right now, because she's pretty sure she already has a nasty sunburn on most of her exposed skin. The downside to wearing an above-the-knee floral print dress, she supposes. Her feet are seating like crazy inside her boots, but she isn't really all that keen on walking around the burning sand barefoot. Blisters or no. Her cream-colored cardigan was tossed over the backseat, as she'd been really sure that she would die if she kept it on any longer.

Someone has to come along eventually, this is a state highway to a capital city. But so far she hasn't seen a single soul except for the vultures lingering nearby. She eyes them suspiciously, and pops a piece of ice in her mouth. She didn't like hitchhiking—the horror stories were, well, horrendous and she isn't quite ready to be hacked to pieces by an ax murderer yet. Even though the ax serial murderer was usually the hitchhiker and not the person picking them up, but whatever.

Sakura squints at a group of cacti across the road and tries to remember how to extract the juice from them. If worst comes to worst, which it might, she'll have to crack one open and survive on cacti liquid and leftover cheese sandwiches and warm applesauce until help arrives.

She spares a glance at the food spread out on a picnic blanket beside her and blinks. The two cheese sandwiches are already on their way to becoming grilled cheeses. Well. Best not to think about that. She grabs a bag of baby carrots and plans out the rations in her head. If someone didn't come today, most of this could last her about two, three days, tops. Then she'd be a goner, and the vultures would be set for about the same amount of time.

How nice.

Goodbye promising doctor career and possible future soul mate and kids, hello death by heatstroke or dehydration. Maybe both. There's a great risk of those things already, and the near future is not looking much brighter.

Don't worry Sakura, you took survival courses. Not to mention that your mother taught you patience, and many other fine qualities to help improve your character and make you a better person. You can handle this in a mature, mannerly fashion. Why freak out? There's no need to freak out. Certainly not. Nope.

Sakura throws her hands in the air and looks up at the sky.

"WHY DO YOU HATE ME, GOD?! IS THIS PUNISHMENT FOR THAT TIME IN THE SECOND GRADE WHEN I POURED TABASCO SAUCE IN THAT ONE KID'S SOUP? BECAUSE SHE WAS MAKING FUN OF MY FOREHEAD OKAY, AND YOU KNOW I AM A SENSITIVE PERSON. ESPECIALLY WHEN I WAS SEVEN, BECAUSE I WAS REALLY INSECURE. OR IS THIS PAYBACK FOR THAT TIME I SWITCHED OUT KARIN'S SHAMPOO FOR BLUE HAIRDYE? BECAUSE, AGAIN, SHE WAS MAKING FUN OF ME. And let's be honest here, she kind of deserved it, okay. We both know she's a real bitch. Not being judgey or anything but seriously."

She takes a deep breath, and waves her arms around. "IS THIS KARMA COMING BACK TO BITE ME? I KNOW I'VE DONE SOME LESS THAN STELLAR THINGS, OKAY, AND I APOLOGIZE. BUT REALLY, REALLY, STRANDING ME OUT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE DESERT IS KIND OF LIKE A DEATH SENTENCE, DON'T YOU THINK?"

So there may or may not be a strenuous amount of yelling, and possibly some tears, but.

It's all under control.

x

Thirty minutes later, she has seen at least five mirages and counting. It's not looking good, and she has almost accepted the scenarios going through her mind already. A shame her cell doesn't work, because then at least she could call her parents and Dr. Tsunade and tell them she isn't ever going to make it. Or call for help. But no, her phone service is shit out in the desert, apparently. It does, however, work just fine underground.

(It's a long story that she doesn't have time for right now, but it does involve Naruto, a manhole, and a lifetime supply of Ichiraku ramen that they did not win in the end.)

Sakura feels like she's melting—literally melting, alright—and the sun has yet to let up on its assault. She's kind of glad that the heat has drained her of almost all energy because then she can't see can she actually looks like. She's not totally sure of her appearance, but it seems that all the water inside her body is seeping out through her pores, so that can't be good. She probably looks like a wreck—she can picture it in her head—and she despairs.

A vulture is eyeing her again, and she groans wearily. It screams at her. She screams back.

She's switching back and forth between contemplating the whole "how to break into a cactus and steal its juice" thing and staring at what is now a grilled cheese sandwich when she sees it. At first she rolls her eyes, because it's blinking in and out of the horizon, just like any mirage. She's been fooled once (okay more like three times) but she's not falling for it again.

Sakura blows some sweaty fringe out of her eyes and lets out the loudest sigh she's ever emitted in her life. The mirage is still there, and getting closer, which is beyond annoying. Like, excuse you brain, she already knows it's not real, can you kindly cease and desist with it now? But no, it's still coming, and the heat is still making it dance across the interstate.

Not fair, she thinks, then screeches.

That's when she hears the roar of an engine and—whoa, this is new, the whole sound aspect thing. Maybe she's really losing it? The sleek black Maserati speeding towards her. Like seriously, it's speeding, probably ten or fifteen over the limit. And what do you know, wonder of all wonders, it slows to a halt beside her car.

She blinks.

The driver's side window rolls down, and the owner stares at her in bewilderment.

"Oh great," Sakura says, little humor in her voice, "now I'm seeing sports cars and Sasuke. Of all the people in all the world to see in a mirage. That's it. I'm done. Out. Finished."

Sasuke Uchiha looks less than impressed, which she thinks makes it seem more realistic, but still a little confused. "Sakura? What the hell are you doing?"

She lifts an arm and waves it lazily. "I am in the process of dying from probably heatstroke, what does it look like? You know, you could be a little more nice, Mirage Sasuke. I am imagining you and all."

He suddenly feels a migraine coming on. "What happened to your car?"

"It died on me Sasuke. I trusted it with my life and now look where we are. I'm dying and it is dead and so is my phone. This is probably why you and Ino always question my judgment. Do you think I'm a bad judge of character, or am I just super unlucky in life? Maybe both? Probably both."

Sasuke shakes his head and opens the car door before stepping out. Sakura does not move from her spot, sprawled out on a checkered picnic blanket. She looks a little worse for wear, and is clearly not in her right mind. "Come on, you can ride with me back to Konoha."

She squints up at him and revels in the shade he provides by standing over her. Wait, shade? Sakura abruptly sits up and gapes at him. "You're real."

He does not look amused, and she takes this as a yes. She could hug him, probably would if she wasn't sweating like a guy after the most intensive basketball game in the history of ever. "Omigosh Sasuke!"

Sasuke helps her put her suitcase and things into his trunk—this is probably the most courteous he's ever been to her in all his life, despite her being in love with him since she was like, five. Then she slides into the passenger seat and melts.

"Sasuke," Sakura moans, "the temperature of this car is heaven. I have been slowly dying out there for hours. I thought I was going to become vulture food. Thankyousosomuch."

He only makes a noncommittal "hn" noise and puts the car in gear. They still have at least ten hours to Konoha—an impromptu cross country trip with the love of her life, she can deal—and it's a long drive.

Anything can happen, she tells herself.

Little does she know, everything is about to happen.

—

end notes: much coincidence. who needs a knight in shining armor when you have sasuke in a shiny sports car? also, i don't remember the layout of the ninja lands and i'm too lazy to look it up, so.