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Read Equinox and come back!


Sakura removed her headphones in time to hear Madara demand: "Do you even go to your own office anymore?"

"I'm not here to see you."

"Thank heaven and hell for that. You're terribly dull. I don't know what she sees in you," sniffed Madara.

Already rolling her eyes at their bickering, Sakura swiveled her chair away from the computer. Tobirama stood at the door, a clear plastic cup in his hand. It was filled with a pinkish liquid. Chunks of strawberry bobbed around with the ice. He wore a plain white t-shirt tucked into his black jeans. On top was, unsurprisingly, a black jacket.

"Hey, you." Tucking her hair behind her ear as she tilted her head back to look at him.

"Bunny," he breathed.

He always greeted her that way. Like he had been holding his breath. The sound filled with relief. And the smile that illuminated his face made it seem like he hadn't seen her in years. Eyes squinting, teeth sparkling almost too-bright.

She gazed up at his expression. For probably the thousandth time, she realized how stupidly happy he was to see her. And a second revelation followed soon after. That she was probably just as glad to see him.

Madara lifted a fist to his mouth. He coughed into it. "Well, I have a date tonight. I'm trying not to spoil my appetite before then, so let me get out of your way."

And when neither of them responded, he grimaced. "Ugh. Sirens."

"Bye, Madara," Sakura said as he headed out of the room.

His whip-like tail curled into the shape of a heart before he let the door shut behind him.


Tobirama didn't even seem to notice the incubus leave. He held the drink behind him, leaning over her. A kiss as payment for the drink, he seemed to say. Not like she was complaining.

"You're too tall," she whined.

"Sorry," Tobirama whispered. She pulled him down for a kiss. Arms looping around the back of his neck. Her breaths dissolving into giggles when she opened her eyes and found him staring at her.

"Have you gotten even prettier?" he wondered. She would've gagged had anyone else tried that line on her. But this was Tobirama. He was being serious.

He held the drink out to her. Sakura puckered her lips around the green straw to take a sip. It was sweet. Only he would think to order her an iced drink in this cold, rainy weather. But it was nice and toasty in the studio. He knew her so well. He reached around her to set the cup on her desk.

"I got a postcard this morning. From the Philippines," Tobirama told her. He reached into his pocket to retrieve his phone. He swiped through a few screens before he showed it to her. It was a photo of said postcard. A shot of the cyan ocean and bright yellow letters that read 'Greetings from Cebu'.

"Yeah, Kisame sent me one too. Said there are lots of wreck dives in that area. He seemed excited," she recalled.

"I don't get it. Why does he insist on sending all of us individual postcards? It'd be easier to just send one for all of us," he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. He leaned on the edge of her desk, long legs stretched out in front of him. Sakura just smirked up at him.

"But you kept it, didn't you?" she pointed out.

Tobirama gave her a look, but he didn't argue. He reached out to brush a speck of lint off her sweatshirt. Her hand traced up his arm to his elbow. Patting it a few times.

"That's pretty, by the way," she commented, gesturing at her left ear. Tobirama's hand half-rose toward his own ear. She knew how much thought and care he put into his outfits and his hair. Today's earring was a simple silver star.

That shy smile crept across his face. Mashing his lips together, he looked away. And his eyes fell on her computer mouse next to his thigh.

"What're you working on?" he asked.

Sakura snorted. "Well I can't show you with your butt blocking everything," she scolded him. He looped around her and pushed her chair toward the desk. And then he pulled up another seat next to her. He rested his elbow on the back of her chair, watching as she clicked, moving the windows around.

"Mm… I've wanted to make something summery lately," she told him. She double-clicked and the window expanded to fill the screen.

"Summery," he repeated. The sound trailed off in a low hum as he thought. She turned her head to watch him. His eyes reflected the lines and colors on her computer screen. And she saw the way his face lit up as he thought.

"Can I listen to it? Or is it a secret?" Tobirama requested.

Sakura hit the play button. As the guitar strummed through the speakers, Tobirama leaned in closer to the screen. His arm slipped from the chair to her shoulder. His eyes followed the colored bars as they slid across the screen. She could see his mind racing.

"I really like how you used hi-hats. It sounds so clean," he mused. Before she could thank him, he then suggested: "The piano's good too. It does feel summery, with a sort of... 90′s feeling? But you can tell that it's electric. Have you thought about using an actual piano? It might change the feeling of the song. And maybe you could include a little organ in the chorus?"

When she didn't respond, he tore his gaze from the screen to her.

"What?" he asked.

"Nothing. You're just really cute when you're in work mode," she admitted.

He froze. And then he squeezed his eyes shut, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. The tips of his ears turned red as he turned his face away from her.

"You're still really bad with compliments, huh?" she teased. She flipped her hair over the collar of her sweatshirt. Her fingers knocking against her hoop earrings.

He still refused to look at her when he spoke a minute later. "What're you doing after this?"

"Going to dinner with you, I guess," she replied.

When his head turned back to her, she grinned at him. Her cheek in her hand, she threw his question back at him. "So what're we doing after this?"

They ended up getting dinner at a little Malaysian restaurant near the office. Even though it was a weeknight, there was a line out the door. Sakura gave her name to the hostess, who said that they would text her when their table was ready. She squeezed back out the door.

Tobirama stood next to a parking meter, hands deep in his pockets. The people who walked past stared at him. Some did double-takes, whispering to each other. A nearby group of women also waiting for a table giggled. Casting quick looks over their shoulders at him, nudging each other. Probably trying to urge one of them to try to talk to him. They let out a noise of disappointment when Sakura walked up to him.

"15-30 minutes," Sakura reported.

"It's cold. Will you be okay?" asked Tobirama, reaching for her hand. He grasped it, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles.

"Yeah. It's not that bad."

They agreed that it was well worth the wait when they were digging into curry an hour later. Stomachs filled to bursting with shrimp and rice, they tried to calculate how much to add for tip on the bill.

They walked back to her office, breaths streaming out in the cold night. Occasionally big puffs escaped when they laughed.

"I'll buy you another coffee. You're driving home later, right?" Tobirama offered. His voice quiet against her ear.

"You're sweet," Sakura replied, beaming up at him.

By the time they walked back into her studio, it was late. Everyone else had gone home for the night except Madara, who Sakura often accused of secretly living in the office.

"What're we doing this weekend?" she asked. He held the door for her and she walked through it. Her coffee with one sugar steamed in her left hand.

"Can't this weekend. I'm working," he replied.

"Booo," Sakura whined, her lower lip jutting out.

"I know. I'm sorry," sighed Tobirama.

She sulked a little harder, pushing his hand away when it rubbed over her shoulder.

"I'm free next weekend. Let's go on a trip. Just the two of us," he then suggested.

Her eyes lit up. But then she quickly looked away, still pouting. "No. I don't feel like it," she retorted.

They walked into her studio. The wooden door sliding shut behind them. Tobirama watched as she plopped down in her chair. She took a loud slurp of her coffee, staring at him. He struggled not to smile.

"Hm. Are you sure?"

He took slow steps forward. Letting out a loud sniff, Sakura turned her chair away from him. He grasped the back of it, spinning it back toward him. She glared.

"I'm not going," she insisted, still avoiding his eyes.

This time, Tobirama couldn't hide his smile. He sat on the floor in front of her, like he wasn't wearing designer jeans. He deposited his chin in her lap. One hand curling around her thigh. She ignored him and began furiously clicking around on her computer, like she had actual work to do.

"You really won't go with me?" He sounded so wounded.

When she looked down, he was gazing up at her. His hands resting on her knees. Looking so pitiful that she couldn't keep a straight face anymore.

She lost. Bursting into giggles. She pushed the mouse aside.

"Still mad?" he asked in a little voice.

"Livid," she replied.

A cough from the other side of the room interrupted them.

There was a sofa pushed up against the wall, right next to the door. Temari and Kakuzu sat side by side. Kakuzu's feet were off the floor, hands clenched together. His body was almost as contorted as his face. Temari seemed to be having trouble deciding where to leave her eyes.

The smile slipped off Tobirama's mouth. He froze right there, refusing to turn his head to look at their accidental audience. He kept his stare trained on Sakura, who could feel his face get hot against her leg.

"Oh, hey," Sakura greeted them instead. "What're you guys doing here?"

Kakuzu simply grimaced, so Temari was the one to speak. "Well, we came to see if you wanted to grab a bite to eat. Boss- I mean, Madara told us we could wait for you in here."

"We already ate," Tobirama replied, his voice as flat as his face. Sakura knew the only reason he hadn't moved was because he was too embarrassed to do anything right now. His ear was bright red.

An awkward silence ensued.

"Uh... where's Hidan?" Sakura queried.

"He has a date so he ditched us."

"Oh."

Sakura looked down. Tobirama was still playing dead. But she saw that part of his hair was sticking out. She pushed it back into place.

"Anyway, I've completely lost my appetite. So guess we'll come back another time," Temari concluded. She and Kakuzu exchanged looks before they got to their feet.

Tobirama's hid his face against her knees once the door shut behind them.

"I want to die," he mumbled.

"Yeah, that sucked," she agreed.

"What're you complaining for?" Tobirama asked.

"Now everyone's gonna know that you're a big softie. You're supposed to be my softie," Sakura explained.

Tobirama glowered up at her. Her eyes widened. "I'm serious," she insisted.

"I like that you're only nice to me. Makes me feel special," she added. Bending over to peck his forehead. But when she tried to straighten, he grasped her hands, pulling her even closer.

"That's because you are special, Bunny," he murmured before he kissed her.


The following weekend, they flew down to spend a couple days in Miami.

They lazed around on the beach in the morning, splitting jerk chicken for lunch. Holding hands as they wandered down the boardwalk with saltwater drying in their hair. He tried to steal kisses every chance he could. He succeeded most times.

They clinked cocktails on a rooftop bar at night. Diamonds glittering in Tobirama's ears, his hair swept back in that perfectly messy way that she knew had taken a lot of time and effort. His hand resting on her lower back as he guided her through the crowd.

And it struck her again when he brought her her drink. How his eyes twinkled. How broad his shoulders were. How her name sounded coming out of his smiling mouth.

He felt her stare lingering. "Do I have something on my face?" He leaned his elbow on the railing. The light of the setting sun painting his hair and his face gold.

"Yeah," she sighed. Resting her cheek in her hand. "A lot of handsome."

Tobirama choked on his drink a little.

Sakura laughed as she felt his arm slide around her shoulders. He pressed her up against his side, probably too embarrassed to look at her directly.

It was a busy night at the bar. The murmur of conversations weaved around them. They could hear snippets of jokes and rowdy stories half-slurred. And she was so content to let her head fall against his chest. To breathe in the scent of his cologne, to listen to his ring tinkle against his glass as he adjusted his grip.

"Hey."

"Yeah?"

"I love you. A lot."

"Good. Because I love you, too."

"...A lot?"

"Shut up, Tobirama."

He chuckled into his drink.