Lightning Field

Tender moments with a burnt-out cigarette
I'm dying to know what doesn't happen next
Your drunken kisses leave a bitter taste on my lips
It doesn't feel like me anymore,
no lover coming to the door
To rescue me in the middle of the night
-Lennon "Brake of Your Car"


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 5: Shock and Awe

Naruto's eyes widened with excitement when Sakura approached him with the new mission. They sat at Ichiraku over lunch (or breakfast, in Naruto's case) going over the details of the who and how. Team Seven was to infiltrate the small town of Kyoko and, by proxy, the compound of a man suspected of selling kidnapped, brainwashed shinobi to the highest bidder for whatever was necessary. For a long time, Konoha was able to stay out of it, as Kyoko was located near Suna and thus, not in Hi No Kuni's jurisdiction. Then, the Daimyo's nephew went missing. An elite shinobi of mediocre chakra control, with no kekkei genkai, the black market sale of the Daimyo's own nephew was sure to bring in quite the revenue, regardless. When Tsunade had presented the mission, he had been missing for three days.

"You could always present yourself in town as a rogue shinobi looking for work and a place to hide out," Naruto offered. It really wasn't a bad plan, but it left way too much open to chance.

"I could, but with my hair, I'm easily recognizable. I could buy hair dye, but I would have to buy it every few months. Eventually, someone would notice. Not just that, but a girl goes rogue? I'm all over girl power or whatever, but even I think that's a little ludicrous." Sakura slurped her noodles as if to make a point. She had a spare folder set aside her bowl with a few blank sheets of paper for planning. The only thing that had made it successfully onto the paper was the doodle of vines and small flowers climbing up the left margin. And the one of her stabbing Naruto in the eyes with her chopsticks for suggesting she masquerade as a stripper.

After a few moments, Naruto slowly sat ramrod straight and turned to her. "I've got it," he remarked lowly around a mouthful of pork and egg. Trying not to look as grossed out as she felt, she motioned him to continue. "Do you still have your guitar?"

"Um, yeah?" She hedged, unsure of what Naruto was getting at. "I couldn't get rid of it. It's the only thing my dad gave to me." When they had been genin, Naruto would commonly poke fun at the roseate for her tendency to make up songs and music. Everyday things would inspire her; the sun poking through the trees over training field 3, the way a robin fed its young. But she realized that nothing was a greater inspiration than one lone Uchiha. She had a legal portfolio full of songs and poems about the ill-fated boy. And Naruto knew, and frequently taunted her about her 'unrequited word-sex' with Sasuke.

"Well, bear with me here. What if you posed as a musician?" He flinched, bracing for impact, but none came. When he chanced a glance at his pink-haired companion, she was deep in thought.

"Actually, that's not half bad. It accounts for the hair, and the way I would just randomly show up in Kyoko. Plus," she added, stabbing at the beef in her own bowl, "I could easily slip in and out of the bar scene, keeping an ear open. Hell, I might even be able to entertain the bastard doing this!" She clapped Naruto on the back in congratulations. Shortly thereafter, the number one hyperactive knucklehead ninja was admitted to the hospital with a dislocated shoulder and cracked rib.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Now that Sakura had her plan set for infiltration, she needed the duds to match. She made short work of delivering Naruto to the hospital, then walked to Ino's apartment. She figured the blonde woman would be getting ready to go out for the evening, or at least just getting home to do so.

Sure enough, when Sakura walked up the three flights of steps to Ino's door, the blue eyed beauty was just unlocking her door.

"Pig!"

"Whore!" Ino yelled back before realizing it was Sakura yelling out her much-hated pet name. "Oh, Forehead, it's just you."

"Thanks, bitch, it's nice to see you, too." Sakura replied, only half-serious, while she took her shoes off inside Ino's doorstep. "I have a project for you."

"No." Ino's tone was absolute.

"What?"

"No, Sakura. I'm not going to be your lackey again. Last time, I had to trail Pakkun through the woods while he searched for a place to take a crap, simply because you wanted to know where the Echinacea he had on his coat had come from. N-O." She paced her living room a few times before finally coming to rest on her couch.

"It involves a makeover," Sakura singsonged. Bingo. Ino's eyes lit up and Sakura could see that she had to keep from clapping happily. "I have a mission- a long term one. I have to infiltrate a village, gain trust, and then infiltrate a compound to- well, to do what we do. In order to do this, I need a good enough disguise." During her explanation, Sakura had laid out her notes from lunch.

Ino eyed the papers carefully, ideas circulating in her head. "So… you're going to be a musician?" At Sakura's nod she continued, "Um, well, what kind of music?"

Sakura's thumbnail ended up between her teeth as she contemplated telling Ino the truth. "Well, I… play… um… heavier music." Ino's head slowly swung her way.

"Like, 'I'm so emo, I cut myself in darkened corners' heavy, or 'you broke my heart, I'm breaking your face' heavy?"

"Well, to be honest, Ino, both." Ino nodded in confused understanding. She grabbed Sakura's hand and led her to her second bedroom, which had been converted into a walk-in closet. "Ino, this room always amazes me."

"Why? Because of all the amazing clothes and accessories?"

"No, because," she began, stepping over handbags and hat boxes, "you actually need to have a separate room for your clothes."

"Tch, and accessories." The girls giggled and set about assembling Sakura's disguise.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kakashi knocked on Sakura's door, ignoring the looks from her nosy neighbor three doors down. As he waited for her to answer, he pondered her cherry-stained oak door. He had run into Naruto while he was out an about, and learned Sakura was leaving in the morning on a mission. Obviously, he couldn't know the specifics unless he was personally involved in the mission, but he had put together enough facts to know she would be travelling to Kyoko.

He remembered when they had been ANBU partners, not too long ago. The night before every big mission, she would be so nervous. Her arms would quiver like leaves in the wind, and her sharp green eyes would twitch toward every sound. He learned after their first mission that she could be calmed to a cool professionalism with a bit of… attentive handling. After a while, it had become habit to visit her like this.

He could only think she may need him now.

The door opened, and a pink head popped out. "Kakashi? What…"

He cleared his throat, shifting awkwardly. "I heard about your mission." Her eyes narrowed and he swore her teeth ground together.

"And, what? You thought you'd just come by?" She opened the door wider and he could see that she had covered most of her furniture with sheets. Her television was on, a movie paused. Takeout sat on her TV tray, and scented candles were burning, smelling faintly of ylang ylang and lemongrass.

"Well, I- uh-" He scratched his head nervously and eyed the hallway again. Damn, that nosy lady was still outside of her apartment.

"Hatake Kakashi, you are a fucking idiot." One hand lay on her cocked hip, the other cradled her forehead. "You thought you could come over here, get some ass, and leave? Don't think so. Goodbye, Kakashi." Unceremoniously, she turned and kicked the door closed on her way to the couch.

Kakashi stood there for a moment, staring at the door again. He waited to hear a sob, a whimper, something to prove she still wanted him. He sighed when her movie resumed and the sound of her chopsticks hitting the side of the takeout container echoed. So much for goodbye.