Mykonos

"Be grateful," she spat at him as she shoved a package into his limp hands.

Looking at her curiously, "For what?"

Sakura sighed as she willed herself to calm down, "I am replacing your stupid habit with a healthier stupid habit."

"I still don't get it."

"Just open the gift, will you?"

Cautiously testing whether the gift was rigged with explosives, he tenderly unraveled the parchment that encompassed the item until he saw a glimmer of green. Upon further inspection, he concluded that what she had given him was a simple, green mug –however oddly enticing.

"… Thank you?" he said questioningly.

Glaring, "You need to drink more water. I am sick and tired of you showing up my doorstep after practice dying from over exertion and dehydration."

"But it's a tea cup…"

Bristling, Sakura reddened slightly before replying hotly, "Well, the stores were closing and they only thing they had were tea cups."

"I'm glad you put so much thought into my present Sakura," he said rather dejected.

"I said be grateful! What exactly did you give me for my birthday?"

"About that…"

"Exactly. Now go start on your prescribed dose of hydration. I'm late for my shift. It's an awful habit I've picked up from you," Sakura said while departing without second glance.

Fumbling the tea cup within his hands, he tossed it up in the air for good measure before catching it expertly, "It must be that time of month," he mumbled to himself. Noticing the glossy sheen of the mug, it vaguely registered why he found it so peculiar.

The green was the exact color of her eyes.

An eerie silence enveloped the town late at night. Snow fell haphazardly amongst the frigid chill, resting onto the undisturbed banks of the street. The only hint of activity was the faint footprints, illuminated by the dim streetlamps, of a lone traveler roaming about. The indentations were light and almost elegant with their hasty placement. Further ahead, the tracks eventually settled behind the lithe figure sitting contemplatively on a weathered bench. The faint clouds of warm breath filtered into the air while a small shudder could be heard.

Sakura stared into the abyss of night searching for an answer that would ease her problem. All her thoughts were solely preoccupied by a predicament that had all but consumed her. Attempting to run away from the warmth and holiday cheer, she decided to clear her mind outside. Unfortunately, the epiphany she was looking forward to had failed to appear. Deciding to try another method of problem solving, Sakura abruptly rose from where she was stationed. Brusquely brushing off the thin layer of snow that had attached itself to her figure, she set a steady pace toward a familiar place.

This was how Sakura found herself sitting alone at a bar counter, nursing the remnants of a cup of tea. The musky scent of cigarettes and alcohol saturated the air, diluting itself in the condensation that steamed from the mug. There was the faint buzz of static coming from the muted television that broadcasted commercials stipulating its viewer to purchase yet another unneeded item. Sakura vaguely registered the advertisement for the latest in the Icha Icha series. With a slender finger, she traced the outlines of the etched graffiti that desecrated the wooden bar counter, fascinated with the profanity and declarations of eternal love. She wondered whether to make her own addition to this informal public forum, thinking it was somewhat appropriate given the circumstance.

There was an abrupt and loud shatter that rattled the entrance, drawing the attention of everyone in the bar. Almost as fast as the sound had occurred, the bar once again erupted with the hum of conversation, boisterous gambling, and suave flirtation. In the background, Sakura could hear the howl of the chilling wind as it blew against the large formations of icicles hanging from the roof. There had been a massive storm front coming from the east that had all but stalled above Konoha. Predictions of up to three feet of snow were not gross overestimations. Yet despite the inclement weather, most went about their celebrations without notice.

Celebration was something that many in Konoha were no longer familiar with. Months of war and strife left the spirits of many shattered. For many, civilian and shinobi a like, this was his or her first war. Outside the boarders of the Hidden Villages, chaos reigned and consumed the land. Villages were burned to ash and the true human condition of greed and wrath came to light. Terrorist activity was abundant and no one was certain just who was orchestrating such attacks. The Hidden Villages were left fighting an unknown enemy, with suspicion amongst the allied nations lurking below the surface.

Sakura supposed that she should be thankful that she was alive. There were many things to celebrate in life –her friends, her family, steady pay, and health. However any inkling of happiness and joy was only a half-hearted gesture. It wasn't that she was taking everything for granted. But Sakura wanted to be selfish.

She wanted him.

"Do you know what?" Sakura asked as she lay sprawled on his back as he steadily did push ups.

Grunting a little from a mild exhaustion, he replied, "What?"

"I think I am going to adopt a kitten."

Pausing slightly before resuming his steady pace, "I thought you were more of a dog person?"

Swinging her legs slightly with her foot grazing the ground occasionally, "I am."

"Then why a kitten?"

"Because they are self-sufficient and cute."

"I'm done," he interjected, with Sakura taking her que by sliding off his back and promptly sitting on his floor. He sat across from her as he lazily stretched his arms above his head, eliciting a satisfied sigh as his arms flopped back into his lap.

"And you don't think dogs are self-sufficient and cute?" he continued.

"I guess they are, but I thought a change was in order."

"A change."

"Mmm. All I am ever around is you or dogs."

Raising a brow contemplating between taking that as offense or a fact, "So?"

"I just feel I should add something of my own to the mix," she stated rather defensively.

"But cats are like women –cruel," he commented.

Looking at him skeptically, "You have the most sadistic streak known to man."

"Ah," he said, "But I was talking about women."

The normal thing to do any given night was to drown ones sorrow with a bottle of scotch or find comfort in another's heat. After particularly excruciating missions, everyone scattered to numb the new memories. Sakura had witnessed on a few occasions nurses and doctors shooting up Vicodin or morphine in the back rooms after yet another lost patient. She didn't particularly approve of such abuse, but she had thought about it a few times. All your problems subdued in a matter of minutes by a tiny, white pill? It was tempting. However, everyone had his or her own individual methods of coping with a difficult day.

Occasionally, Sakura would attempt to venture into the realm of alcoholism. Despite her efforts, becoming intoxicated was a futile pursuit. The cause stemmed from a now unconscious effort by her digestive system that broke down the enzymes of foreign contaminants. This talent had its uses on the battlefield, if she had been poisoned, but it was unfortunate that her own body couldn't differentiate between a threat and an indulgence. Alcohol simply burned through her system as if it were poison. She never failed to understand the irony.

Sakura used to have a rather mundane routine that involved a local tea brewery, another habit picked up from a cherished friend. However it was a quaint establishment where it was far too quiet and too senile for her liking. She would think that being in such a tranquil environment would appease her, but all it truly did was drive her insane. Every slight creek of a floorboard and hushed whisper would ring loudly in her head. The quiet was indeed so quiet that she could even here her own thoughts –and that was the most troubling.

Therefore, Sakura would spend most of her nights in a small pub located in the seedy section of downtown. It was right on the outskirts of the ever-thriving red light district, no matter how heavily the Godaime taxed. She went there to avoid the awkward encounters with her peers and the promiscuous shinobi groupies who swarmed to the numerous bars uptown. Too many instances concerning an obnoxious greeting, an unwelcome inquiry about her life, or a reminder of the war left a bitter taste in Sakura's mouth. This was why she preferred the rather small establishment Sakura found refuge in. There was a sense of privacy amongst the chaos and noise that she could not find anywhere else.

An added benefit was that the bar she just so happened to stumble upon had a very unique set list of brewed teas.

"Just try it," he exasperatedly said, shoving the warm mug into her unwilling hands.

"But it smells awful," she whined, "Are you trying to poison me?"

"You are sick and this will make you feel better. It's not like you can taste or smell anything in the first place."

Her body ached and her head throbbed mercilessly as she continued to avoid his grasp. Unable to breathe normally, Sakura was congested and miserable during these beginning weeks of flu season.

"But I can smell that concoction of death and it reeks," she exclaimed.

Trying to reason with her, "All it has in it is tea, lime, ginger, and honey."

"It smells like melted rubber!"

"Just take a sip and I swear you won't die."

"No, I'll just end up puking my guts out," Sakura retorted.

"Drink the damn tea or else I'll throw you in a tub full of ice. Your fever is getting ridiculous."

"Go away," she moaned as she hid under a mountain of multiple, colorful and eccentric blankets.

Sighing again out of exasperation, "Sakura…" he began gently.

"What," came her cautious, muffled reply.

Unexpectedly, Sakura was swiftly pulled out from her under her blankets and hoisted over broad, firm shoulders. Writhing and moaning obscenities, a chill crept up her spine as the warmth from her fever sharply contrasted with the cool atmosphere.

"Put me down damn it!"

"We have to get your fever down," he countered.

Looking around wildly, "Where are you taking me?"

"Bathroom."

"I don't have to go to the bathroom—" she started before realization dawned upon her.

"I told you what option B was."

"NO."

"You are a Jonin, get over it."

"Fine! I'll drink your damn tea, just put me down!"

Her method for coping came in the slightly obscure form of tea. The meditative state she entered as she worked on downing a warm mug left her mind and body with an inner peace. Her thoughts scattered, her memories faded, and all was left was a simple bliss. The effects of the tea wouldn't last very long, and once again she would be pulled back into the unfortunate reality. However, the simple motions helped her distract her from what had been plaguing her mind for weeks now.

Sakura was wearing an exceptionally inappropriate number tonight, including a fitted, all black ensemble that turned heads. If not for the overwhelmingly jaded aura that surrounded her, Sakura was sure she would have plenty of suitors. But the various characters that streamed into his pub were not looking for a girl with baggage, no matter how attractive. Cheap fucks were the ideal prize. Sakura would see a few men glance appreciatively toward her way, then a much easier squeeze would saunter past them, sufficiently drawing their attention away from her.

Secretly, she was happy that her attempts at getting laid had failed. In some twisted way, Sakura felt it would be immoral of her to lure anyone while she was so committed to him. It would have felt as if she were being unfaithful. As ludicrous as it may have been, Sakura was infatuated with a man over a decade her senior. What was once a passing intrigue developed into an almost obsession she realized.

Sakura didn't remember specifically when this infatuation began. Though she does remember the specific moment when everything simply registered in her head. She was sitting on his plush, yet lumpy couch with her legs tucked underneath her with a warm mug of tea encompassed by her delicate hands. She remembered sitting there, lovingly, observing him in such a domestic light. She even began to fantasize the scene before her as routine in their shared future. Sakura then clumsily shattered the mug on the floor, scalding her hand with hot tea, before exiting his abode in a flurry of movement and hushed good byes.

It was hot and humid outside however his apartment was freezing. She shivered violently as he handed her a shuriken-patterned blanket, which she gratefully accepted. Underneath her newfound source of warmth, she wore a simple shirt and shorts.

"I know you like to keep your apartment cold, but this is crazy," she said as her teeth chattered incessantly.

Giving her a sympathetic look while adorning, which she finally took notice of, a scarf she had made for him a few years ago, "Yeah. My air conditioner is broken and won't be fixed until Monday."

Still violently shaking, Sakura granted him a slight glare before attempting to rub her arms. Noticing her act, he silently walked over to where she sat. Crouching down to her level, he began to rub her arms with a steady friction and sent delightful warmth through her. Sakura stared down at his frame and inhaled his familiar and comforting scent.

"There," he said with finality, "Better?"

Acutely aware of his proximity, "Yeah… Thanks."

"No problem –let me make us some tea."

"All right," she said faintly as she observed his every moment. Sakura noted how domestic he looked as he wandered about his kitchen searching for his trusty black kettle. He swayed back and forth from cupboard to stove as he methodically went about his preparations. After a few hasty clangs and muttered curses, he came back toward her with two cups in hand.

Gesturing toward her a cup, "Here."

Smiling lightly and extracting the mug from his hands, Sakura quietly thanked him.

Pausing for a second, "Do you want anything? I think I have some cookies for whenever Naruto comes over –it keeps his mouth occupied and my hearing intact."

Laughing, "Sure, I wouldn't mind something sweet."

Looking back at her as he made his way toward the kitchen, "You and your sweet tooth," he said, revealing a cheerful eye crinkle.

Blushing slightly, she mustered up a glower before her gaze intensified on his back. Sakura saw him rummage around before hearing a loud sigh.

"Well, the good news is that Naruto didn't manage to eat all of the sweets," he started, "But apparently mold beat him to it."

He gave her an apologetic glance before discarding the box of cookies into the trash. Sakura looked on him endearingly as sighed another sigh and she heard herself sigh with him. His sigh however was from a slight annoyance of the natural process of decomposition. Sakura's sigh was from a slight feeling of complete adoration and love.

A look of horror adorned her features as she rushed to stand up. Noticing his questioning gaze, she struggled to spew out an explanation for her sudden movement before her grasp that had tightened on the mug went limp. Sakura cringed as she heard the loud shatter of what was once a ceramic cup on his wooden floor. She lamely gestured toward the accident before making a run for it. Whispering a quick good bye, Sakura hastily made her way out of his apartment and fled to hers.

Crumpling on her floor, she finally realized just how bad a predicament she was in.

Standing there, still frozen by her abrupt departure, his gaze slowly made it's way down toward his floor. The only evidence of what had transpired was the remnants of a shattered, green mug.

His favorite.

It was that very moment when she realized she was indeed, fucked.

As a result, she retracted herself from social outings that had the potential of running into him. She avoided places that he associated with, people that associated with him, and even habits of hers that reminded Sakura of him. The past two weeks left her on edge. People began to notice the changes, but whenever they asked, Sakura simply attributed it to the effects the war was having on her. She desperately wanted them to see through her lie as they nodded sympathetically -to see through her as he would. But they didn't, and he would never again until she got a grip on her emotions.

Her mug had now run cold with the lack of substance. Sakura faintly remembered where she was as she gently placed the cup on the counter. Taking the placement of the cup as his que, the bartender eased his way in front of his quiet regular, hoping not to startle her.

"Would you like to try a different type of brew this time?" he asked kindly.

"Ah. No, I am fine for tonight, thanks," she replied.

"All right, just call if you need anything else," he concluded as he walked to another regular motioning for a refill.

Sighing lightly, Sakura decided to slip on her coat that she had been sitting on for the past hour and a half. It was about one in the morning, and the bar was still thriving –as was every other business that was open this late at night. Not knowing where to venture next, Sakura stood up for a brief moment before sitting back down. Though it was late, she didn't want to go home to her empty and cold apartment. Normally, if she were to find herself in this situation, Sakura would simply go to his apartment. He never objected to her presence, even when she interrupted his sleep.

But she was avoiding him. She was doing a rather outstanding job, except for the slight miscalculation on her part. While Sakura was so preoccupied with being preoccupied and avoiding him, she never took into account that he would be preoccupied with finding her. It would have been fine, except that he was exceptionally desperate tonight. Weeks of not having her around became a slight discomfort to say in the very least. He was disoriented and at a lost of what to do with himself without her. So when he accidentally stumbled upon evidence of her presence as he was taking a midnight stroll outside, he couldn't help himself.

Noticing the delicate tracks and the faint traces of perfume, when he realized that he had encountered the fleeting moments Sakura had spent at the bench, he took it as a sign. The strong pelts of snow had almost entirely covered her footprints, but he wasn't an exceptional tracker for nothing. As he began following the small inklings of hope that her trail gave him, he began to fasten his pace as the weather outside worsened and his eagerness grew.

He had to confront her.

Why did she leave his apartment that night and then refused to even acknowledge his existence? Had he upset her in some way? The past few months had been a complete joy for him, even to the point where even he was forced to acknowledge a very obvious fact. He was in love. It wasn't a complete surprise for him, understanding what a pure and beautiful individual Sakura was. Despite his realization, he wasn't going to share his sentiments with her. It wasn't that he was frightened of his feelings so much as he was frightened by the potential consequences of said feelings. Furthermore, he knew he didn't deserve her, but he wanted to be selfish.

He wanted her.

The fierce wind and downpour of snow was beginning to slow him down, but he was close. He faintly recognized where he was and what the trail was leading to. Old memories of her mentioning the bar began to circulate in his head. He had his own vague acquaintance with the establishment many years ago and wondered if the same old, yet kind fellow still bartended there. Seeing the glowing lights being emitted from the frosted windows of the pub, he brusquely shook off the inches of snow that had acquired itself on his head. Pushing the door open, he witnessed the jovial nature of the bar's inhabitants.

Then he saw her.

She was sitting in the middle of an empty bar, gazing without purpose at the assortment of alcoholic beverages. He noticed her coat was on but she didn't seem to have any intention of leaving. Hesitating for a moment, he quietly made his way toward her, taking in the almost picturesque scene of her sitting at the bar –as if waiting contently for her lover to arrive. He faltered slightly at this notion. Strengthening his resolve, he walked right behind her, observing how her lustrous pink hair was swept to the left and hearing her steady breaths. Mustering up courage, he initiated contact by lightly tapping on her right shoulder.

"Sakura…"

She swiveled abruptly and saw the man that had been plaguing her thoughts ceaselessly for the past weeks. Gasping slightly, her eyes softened from the widened shock that was produced by his touch and abrupt greeting.

"Kakashi…"

Seeing how Sakura looked up at him expectantly, Kakashi was at a loss as to what to say next. Clearing his throat, he said the first thing that came to mind.

"I believe you owe me a mug."

Sakura smiled warmly at him, and she knew everything was going to be all right.