dedication: To Sonya, because OMAIGAWD, ILY FOREVER!
disclaimer: Not mine. Although, I have to say, I enjoy fictionpress. These become moot.
notes: "If I believed in fate, I wouldn't be playing with loaded dice."

title: of detention
summary: Because using a wet shirt to get the attention of one's object of affection is usually not the way to go. — Sasuke/Sakura; o1/5o.

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It started with a detention.

Well.

Actually, it started with an insult, which turned into a fairly one-sided screaming match, which then turned into a food fight.

Which, in turn, became a detention.

So really, it started with the detention.

Haruno Sakura was steaming.

There were only three things in the entire world that had ever made Sakura this mad; first, Naruto (uhm, obvious, his mission in life was to annoy her, and make her want to bang her head against a wall); second, low grades (more obviousness, Sakura's brain was legendary); and third, and worst of all: getting food in her hair.

She could not stand it.

But that didn't matter—what did matter was that it started with the detention.

Ordinary days were not uncommon, to Sakura.

And today was supposed to be an ordinary! It should have been on ordinary day. It was entirely ridiculous, and so out of routine that Sakura nearly cringed.

That, and the fact that Sakura had detention had never, in her life, had adetention, did not help this situation at all.

Because Sakura liked routine. She liked it's… routine-ness. She liked its predictability. She liked the way she knew where it was going to go.

And this detention was so not part of today's routine! Not at all!

Sakura glanced up through her mashed-potato-smothered bangs (she only twitched a little bit), and looked around, to gaze around at the others in the room.

The whole group was there—anyone who sat at their table at lunch, really. Karin and Temari were idly playing hang-man on the white-board; Naruto was making way too much noise to be considered legal, Hinata sitting next to him and blushing crimson –poor girl–; Kiba was shouting back and forth to Ino (they were feeding off each other, and Sakura could almost feel the pent-up sexual tension); and Sasuke was being his normal, apathetic self, sitting in a corner, and looking ridiculously attractive.

How la-ame.

Of course, every single one of them was covered in various foods—for example, there were noodles in Shikamaru's hair. Ick.

Sakura growled. This detention was pointless. The whole damn cafeteria had been involved in the fight, but no-o-o-o, the only ones to actually get in trouble were those who associated with Naruto (how they how they figured it was Naruto was beyond Sakura—at lunch, the only food-related activities Naruto engaged in were eating, and eating contests with Chougi, which… also involved eating. Naruto considered the cafeteria ramen sacred. He'd never throw it).

It was ridiculous (and yes, Sakura could over-use that word if she wanted, thankyouverymuch!).

Sakura mutely growled to herself, again, and ducked her head back down. When she found out who had actually started this mess… The police would discover a brutal series of murders, Sakura was sure.

And if they had her name written all over them, who really cared?

The room was mostly quiet, now—Naruto was murmuring softly to Hinata, his quiet whispers right next to the girl's ear. Said girl was bright red, and Sakura almost giggled aloud. If Neji heard about this (and he was bound to—Ino was not Konoha's Resident Gossip Queen for nothing), Sakura was pretty sure that Naruto was a dead man.

Ah, what a nice thought…

With a sigh, the roseate-haired girl stood up, and walked to the window.

It was raining again. It always rained in the winter—Sakura was so tired of rain, Even snow and freezing cold would be better then the constant dampness.

But the rain didn't look like it was letting up. Actually, it looked like it was getting worse…

Sakura was rather tempted to bang her head against the wall. But that would only lead to grossness, because then the mashed potatoes in her hair would smear all over the place and be all icky, and and –

And it was right then that Sakura decided she needed to get to the bathroom. She had to get that guck out of her hair.

As she got her bathroom pass from the teacher (Kakashi-sensei never really cared about anything, anyways), she didn't even realized that that was the beginning of the end.

Sakura looked up into the mirror, her face and hair dripping wet. The bubble-gum pink mass had darkened to deep-ish red, and Sakura stared at herself.

"Bleh," she muttered, after a second. She wrung out her hair, and held it away from her neck and bare shoulders as she looked for something to dry her hair off with.

The paper dispenser was out.

Sakura rolled her eyes. Just her freakin' luck; the only thing remotely dry in the room was her shirt, and she'd taken that off in the first place to keep it dry.

Just. her. freaking. luck.

'Screw it', Sakura thought. She grabbed the kill-me-now orange shirt, and toweled off her hair. It could be worse; really, it could.

There was a knock on the bathroom door, ad Sakura slammed a palm against her forehead.

'Dear Karma. What the hell? Why, today?' Sakura mentally asked, as she tugged the mostly-wet kill-me-now orange shirt down. It stretched.

"This day actually could not get any worse," Sakura grumbled to herself, ad wrenched the door open.

She'd totally just jinxed herself.

Eff.

Uchiha Sasuke was standing there in all his broody, pretty glory, a blank look on his mostly god-like face. He was standing with his hand raised, and he looked like he was about to start knocking again.

Sakura turned a very unflattering shade of purple, and they stared at each other for a moment. Then she chocked out "Yes?"

"Teacher sent me to find you," he muttered.

Sakura just gawked.

She couldn't even form words—she'd only wanted the kid for, what, five years? Nothing too big, right? It wasn't that long, right?

And then Sakura took stock of her appearance; wet shirt, wet hair, dumbfounded look… 'very attractive, Sakura', she thought to herself, sarcasm lacing her mental tone.

"Sakura," she heard again, and Sakura snapped her head up to look at him. He continued to stare down at her. Damn his height.

"C-can I have five minutes? I-"

"Your shirt is inside out. And backwards. Yeah, you can," he said as he turned and stalked off, leaving Sakura to gape after him. God, the kid was such an ass, sometimes… But so good-looking, it almost made it okay. But only almost.

Then Sakura looked down, and realized that he was just being frank. Her still-wet shirt was inside out. And backward.

The unflattering shade of purple that was her face turned darker, and she slammed the bathroom door closed. She needed to fix her clothes in private, thankyouverymuch.

It only took her eight and a half seconds to fix her kill-me-now-orange shirt. After she had put it on again (and made sure it was outside out, and on facing the way it was supposed to), she slipped out of the bathroom, and headed back towards the detention room.

What happened next can only be explained through sheer stupidity (or maybe through the fact that Sakura was busy contemplating Sasuke's total attractive-asshole-ish-ness. But sheer stupidity had a little more dignity attached to it, at the very least).

Sakura opened the wrong door, and entered the wrong room.

And she didn't even realize it until the door had closed behind her, and she was cloaked in total darkness.

Damn it.

Sakura immediately turned around, and tried the knob. It was a stupid mistake that could be easily fixed. Of course. When the knob refused to budge, she blinked.

And then almost wailed.

She was locked in the janitor's closet.

She was locked in the janitor's closet.

She was locked in the janitor's closet.

And there was nothing she could do about it. Sakura moaned in sadness, and finally have in to temptation. She slammed her forehead against the closest, hard vertical thing (it happened to be the door).

The 'thunk' was immensely satisfying. It was also immensely painful, and all she wound up doing was hurting her large-ish forehead.

Sakura actually wailed, this time.

Loudly.

After ten minutes of rather loud wailing, and no one coming to rescue her, Sakura gave up. She sat down on the floor, and made herself comfortable. It was likely that she was going to be in that tiny janitor's closet all night—or at least until her parents started to wonder where she was.

And that might not be for hours. Sakura wailed loudly again.

This time, however, the door did open. Sakura couldn't tell who it was, but before she could say anything, the door swung shut behind whoever it was, and they were engulfed in darkness, once again.

"Sakura?"

Sasuke. God, this was so cliché, it almost made Sakura sick to her stomach. Locked in a closet with the one boy she'd been lusting after (Sakura found this much more dignified then 'in love with'—she didn't need him, she just wanted to rape him in his sleep. Totally different context), for, what, years?

Sakura groaned, and replied. "We are so screwed, Sasuke!"

"Hn?" he grunted, a slight question in his voice. Sakura, after knowing him for so long, had a Sasuke-Translator lodged in her head, and it converted the 'Hn?' to "Why?"

"I think the door only opens from the outside," Sakura murmured with a sigh.

"…Fuck." This did not need translating, according to the Sasuke-Translator. It came out to exactly the same thing, any way she looked at it.

Sakura let out a hysteric giggle, and she was sure Sasuke was giving her a weird look. It probably said something along the lines of 'What the hell is wrong with you? This situation is not amusing!"

But it was amusing. It was very, very amusing—the Great Sasuke Uchiha, captain of the basketball team, current heir of the Uchiha Corporation, straight-A student, and, right at that moment, covered in the remnants of a food fight.

Sakura's hysteric giggles got just a little (just a lot) louder, and quickly turned into full-blown, chest-wrenching, stomach-and-cheek-hurting laughter. It was that crazy kind of laughter that seems to happen when there's just no other reaction.

And this whole situation was—was just so absurd that Sakura really couldn't help it.

For almost ten minutes, Sakura shook with laughter, and Sasuke just stared at down at her—or at least where he thought she was.

The damn closet was still darker then black. Damn it.

Sakura finally calmed herself down long enough to carefully pat the ground next to her. "You can sit down, if you want," she said kindly.

She heard him sit down with an ungraceful 'thump'.

It almost set Sakura off again. She managed to restrain the giggles, and together, they sat in silence. It was a quiet sort of companionship, and it was… kinda nice.

Sakura tilted her head up, and stared up at the invisible ceiling.

Stupid darkness.

"How long do you think we'll be in here, Sasuke?" Sakura asked, quietly (and no, her throat was not a little bit sore from all the wailing).

"Hn…"

Sakura glared at the spot next to her that was radiating heat. That reply was not helpful at all!

"Probably a long time, huh? I guess no one's noticed we're not back yet, I guess…"

"Sakura, be quiet," he said.

She stuck her tongue out at him. She didn't care if it was childish. It made her feel entirely better. The food fight hadn't been her fault, for goodness' sake!

And he still had tomato sauce on his shirt. At the very least, Sakura had managed to keep her clothes clean.

"Like I care what you think. Sorry Sasuke, but if it's between silence, and my random theorizing, I'll go with Option Number Two."

Sakura felt his eye-roll, and she smiled to herself, just a little bit. And then she went back to theorizing. "I wonder who started."

"What?"

Sakura blinked. Had he just acknowledge something she'd said? Was that even possible? But she answered him anyways, "The food fight. I was just wondering who started it."

"…Hn."

Sakura pursed her lips. It had to have come from their table, because that bitch, Mary-Sue, had gotten the first-thrown piece of pizza on her head. Sakura had watched said piece fly, and the aftermath had been… unpleasant, to say the least.

Mary-Sue had started screaming. Her face had turned purple, and she'd started throwing her grapes at everyone surrounding her.

Which, of course, ad set the whole goddamn cafeteria off. And the only ones to get in trouble were the ones who sat with Naruto. Of course.

Sakura tilted her head the other way, stretching the tendons in her neck, and furrowed her brow. It had to have been someone at their table; it was the only logical place, given the angle that the piece of pizza had come flying from.

It would have been someone quiet –someone who no one would suspect–, with a good arm, and generally good… aim…

Good aim, like in basketball. The answer hit Sakura like a ton of bricks.

"It was you!" she screeched. "You are the reason that I was covered in mashed potatoes! You asshole!"

Sakura could feel the smirk on his lips, as Sasuke 'hn-ed'. She seethed.

"I'm going to kill you. I am just going to throttle you-" Sakura went off on one of her more or less infamous rants.

Sasuke let her rant and for a few seconds, before he interrupted her. "She was bad-mouthing you."

"And I—wait, what?"

Sasuke's voice was quiet and patient as he repeated himself. "She was bad-mouthing you."

Sakura raised an eyebrow. "Uhm… so? She bitches about me all the time. We hate each other."

"She called you a slut."

Sakura blinked. This was not news to her –Mary-Sue called her a slut eight times a day–, but the way Sasuke seemed to be getting so worked up about it… that was new. She said again "So?"

"So—just—crap—how do I—damn it, Sakura," he growled out.

It was still dark. Then his hands found her face, curled into her still-wet hair, and tugged her towards him. Even in the dark, Sakura could see the dark wells that were his eyes. Their foreheads were touching.

"Uh… hi?" Sakura whispered-asked.

"Hey," he murmured back.

And then his lips were on hers, and Sakura's brain processes generally died on the spot.

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"Hey, N-Naruto?"

"Yeah, Hinata?"

"D-do you know w-where Sakura and S-Sasuke are?"

"No, I—wait! That bastard! He's probably raping her in a closet! We have to find them, before he does something evil to her!"

Naruto grabbed Hinata's hand, and dragged her out of the room. It only took them about a minute to find the other two teens.

The scream of general horror and fear was equal to nothing ever heard before on earth. Neither Naruto nor Hinata was ever the same.

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fin.

notes2: wow, i am freakishly obsessive.