Blame this on the idea of Sakura hearing Madara's voice for the first time because I literally have no other reason for writing this.

Running had become an easy method to clear her mind. What started out as a necessity to her physical health and fitness turned into one of the most important ways to manage her mental health. That little time she spent breathing in the morning air and listening to the sound of her feet hitting the pavement was Sakura's way to declutter her life.

She didn't have to stress about school. She didn't have to focus on the pressures of bills and her lacking social life. She didn't have to worry about deadlines that were approaching too soon or concentrate on questions she knew had no answers or think about the upcoming internships that would throw her into situations she'd never experienced.

Out there on the streets of her neighborhood, Sakura could just be a woman out for a run.

Even through the stress of grad school, she kept it up. She had to make time, else she found herself too cooped up in her own thoughts that she couldn't function. Classes would merge, her study notes would stop making sense, and her emotions would muddle together until she exploded in a release of anxiety.

Running, though, offered her a way to manage it. It freed her mind until she could dissect her thoughts into ways that made sense. It gave her a break from studying so she could return to her books with a fresh start. It let her reevaluate her emotions and figure out the root of what she was feeling rather than focusing on the emotions that sat on the surface. Honestly, Sakura didn't know how people could function without this little break in their lives. She couldn't and she wanted to make sure she never had to.

Recently, her runs had pulled her focus to something different. Sakura met someone. Not...not romantic or anything — at least, she didn't think so — it was only a friend. A friend over the internet. He was older than her, about a decade between them, but it wasn't creepy. It wasn't weird, it wasn't dangerous, it wasn't bad.

She never thought she would get close to a writer, but life had a funny way of doing things its own way.

Sakura didn't know his full name or what books he wrote or if she knew any of them. She hadn't wanted to know that in the beginning because she hadn't shared hers. He found her blog, they had common interests, he was researching what she was going to school for, and they somehow found themselves in an easy friendship.

Then things changed, shifted in a way that she found she was really comfortable with. He had a good sense of humor, though dryer than hers, and even with the differences of their lives, they never ran out of anything to talk about.

Sometimes, Sakura wanted to know more. She wanted to know why this apparently successful author continued to speak to her outside of research. Was he writing about her? Was he actually writing? What did he think about her? Then she would see a message, fall into the easy conversation, and push her demands aside for another day.

She huffed out a breath, aggravated that he was still taking up her thoughts on her run. Picking up the pace, she wondered if she could tire herself out of thinking.

...

What are you doing right now?

Sakura blinked at her screen. That was new. He never asked her anything like that. Studying?

Are you able to take a break?

Yeah, what's up?

The 'Madara is typing' message showed up and Sakura had to pull her fingers away from the keyboard to keep from asking more questions.

This plot isn't working for me and I need to voice my ideas. Are you available for a call?

Oh. Well that seemed...harmless. And new She'd done similar things before, shooting back quick messages here and there to help him work around whatever was going on in his head, but they'd never had a voice chat before. A call?

I pace. Hard to type when pacing.

Made sense. Getting ready for this impromptu conversation, she set aside her textbook and turned off her study music. Just do what they normally did, only be able to talk through it — shouldn't be too hard, right? Call whenever you're ready.

Almost immediately did the sound come through her computer and she clicked on the pop up to accept the call. "Hello?"

"Sakura?"

Oh no.

"Yeah," she answered, clearing her throat. "Madara?"

"Glad it worked. Thank you for doing this."

Oh no, oh no, oh no.

"It's no problem." Oh no. This was not a complication she needed. "What's going on?"

"Nothing about this is making any sense." And with that, Madara was off. He didn't even bother explaining the current plot he was on, but instead dove right into the issue he was having.

Sakura didn't hear a damn word. His low, silky baritone filled her bedroom, a slow drawl hinting at his original home town down the coast. That voice was the stuff of dreams. It slid over her skin in a smooth caress, husky enough to evoke thoughts that utilized her bedroom in a different way. Thoughts she really should not be having.

But good heaven, that man had the sexiest voice she'd heard in a long, long time. If ever.

What was that voice attached to? Did he look as good as he sounded? No! No. She couldn't think like that. This was Madara, her internet friend, the writer she'd been conversing loosely with for the better part of a year. He was definitely not a good candidate for her fantasies.

"—do you have any thoughts?"

Shit. "Uh…"

Thankfully, he continued talking as if she hadn't stuttered a word. "Does that sound interesting to you? I don't know what you read or if you're even in my target demographic—"

"I read mysteries," she interrupted, grasping at the first thing she could think of to ignore the current downward spiral of her thoughts. "Some thrillers and the occasional fantasy novel, but mostly mysteries."

All safe answers - all true answers, though she was definitely not going to admit to the erotica sitting on her bookshelf that her old professor got her into. How Hatake ever justified sharing that filth with her, she'd never know.

"Mysteries, huh?" His voice changed, losing its focused edge and softening out, something that did funny things to her stomach. "Do you figure out the twist before the book does or do you wait for the surprise?"

"Both, I guess," she answered slowly. "It depends on my mindset while reading."

"What kind of thrillers do you read?"

Madara seemed to have moved on temporarily from his problem and the question as to why the diversion was on the tip of her tongue, but she answered anyway. "I'm not really sure how to describe them. Not horror or too intense. I guess suspenseful mysteries?"

"You want to read a puzzle."

She found herself nodding. "Yeah, I guess that's true."

"Interesting."

He fell silent and Sakura fiddled with her keyboard before asking, "What do you read?"

"A little bit of everything," he answered easily. "I usually read whatever follows the topics I'm writing about. In between plots, I jump to genres I'll never write."

"What kind of genres?"

"Kids books, young adult, historical fiction, a few high fantasy series, and the occasional non-fiction that catches my eye."

"Any favorites?"

"A few."

She waited, but he didn't offer anything else. Pulling in breath, she plucked up the nerve to tease him. "Oh come on, you're not going to make me beg you for them, are you?"

"I don't know," he responded in kind and his voice turned even smoother. "I think I'd like to hear you beg."

Her mouth went dry. Did he just—? Surely, he didn't.

"Why don't you tell me about your favorites?" he prompted, seeming to ease right over that innuendo she swore he didn't say.

Sakura's gaze fell on the bright, garish covers on her bookshelf and she jerked back to the conversation. "Is this even helping your plot problem?" she blurted out.

He chuckled and Sakura sank further in her office chair. That laugh should be illegal. "It's helping."

"How?" She was making an utter fool of herself while listening to him sound like sex on a stick. "There's gotta be something—"

"Sakura."

She froze, waiting with baited breath for him to continue.

"Trust me. You're helping."

"If you say so."

"I do," he reaffirmed and she heard fabric shift, almost as if he was getting comfortable. "Now tell me about your favorite books."

They were halfway through discussing the fourth book she brought up before she realized how easily she gave in to his demand.

In case you can't tell, Madara just found a puzzle he wants to solve. :)