I'm backkkkk. I did Flash Fiction Month and it murdered me.

Also I know how I said I didn't know what I was doing with this. I meant that the story is writing itself as I go, not that I didn't know which pairing to go with- if there's even going to be a pairing. Please don't suggest one.


Sakura hadn't texted him back. It had been hours.

She didn't have to. She could have just opened her front door and let the dog run off to kami knew where. She could have done a million different unsavory things. Instead, Sasuke had confirmed that the girl had bought supplies for his dog.

His cousin did not name the source. Shisui didn't know who he had talked to, maybe one of her neighbors? Itachi had a knowing smirk that made him want to harm his cousin for no reason, but to vent his frustration with the whole situation.

It was its his fault, after all. He had started this whole fucking mess.

Shisui checked his phone for the fifth or sixth time that meal, he had lost track. It was only him and his cousins and the blond that might as well have been Sasuke's boyfriend. Shisui might have known they were still PG only, but the way they acted around each other... Well. Something was there. Somewhere.

Sasuke put his rice bowl down, rather loudly. Shisui didn't know if it was because of his thought process? Sure, Uchiha couldn't read minds, but they could read micro expressions and at this point he would have to be dumber than a box of rocks to assume that he didn't have a novel pasted directly on his forehead.

Itachi didn't do anything. Not a fucking thing. Shisui was starting to wonder why, exactly, Itachi was his favorite out of his two oh so beloved cousins.

Really.

They were both assholes.

Sasuke gaze narrowed, and Shisui mentally prepared for the worst.


Sakura's alarm went off at precisely three am sharp. She clicked it off right before the second ring, and laid back in bed for a few more moments. If she was to be honest at all, Sakura had been up for quite awhile.

She sat up, displacing Daiki in the process. Where the fairly heavy ball of fluff had been before, with his head comfortably perched on Sakura's stomach and face first in dreamland, was pulled suddenly from both. He made an unhappy grumbling sound, and Sakura felt bad. She pet him, until he flopped back down on the still warm comforter and promptly ignored her in favor of whatever dreamland had to offer.

She headed directly to the shower. Cold, long and with a mission. The girl worked knots and tension from every joint, turning the water up every so often until the mirror fogged, the moisture ran down the glass, and her skin matched the color of her hair. She wrapped a faded red towel around her, and popped the door open.

Unlike most mornings, where she would look fruitlessly before finding the instant coffee in exactly the last place she left it, Sakura pinned the towel properly and began to take apart her fully functioning coffee pot. It had been a gift from Sasuke when she had started her rounds with Tsunade. He had claimed that she would need it more than he did, and Sakura pretended not to notice the receipt at the bottom of the bag with his credit card information on it.

It was an unspoken arrangement between the two of them. She would not take labeled handouts, and he would continue to have access to her apartment whenever clan duties became too much. In recent years, clan duties had become the bulk of what Sasuke faced, and between Naruto and her, they did their best to keep him in one piece. Naruto, of course, benefited from free food. That boy couldn't cook anything that did not require a heated kettle and to wait three minutes before inhaling the labeled, sodium filled, glorified cardboard he absolutely loved. Even Naruto could not survive off of ramen for every single meal- not to say he hadn't tried a time or two.

Sakura smiled vaguely at the memory of one dumb ass blond, complaining about his favorite food and how he was tired of it. Sasuke and her had gotten out of ramen for a week. One single, glorious week. Filled with dango and rice balls filled with tuna and sometimes, if there was a clan meeting that night, Sakura would make a couple filled with tomatoes for the road.

Sasuke learned out how to smile that week, she recalled. He also learned how to make rice balls himself. While Mikoto was okay with making everything always, Sakura's mother was having none of it. In the week that the pair had camped out on Sakura's bedroom floor, Mebuki had strongly suggested that the boys help prepare the dinner that they would share with everyone else.

(Sasuke would say it was his duty. Naruto would mumble something along the lines of how scary her mother was. Sakura would concentrate on the potatoes she was peeling, and try not to let her boys see her grin. )

She cleared the old filter and coffee grinds out, rinsing the holder for good measure. One filter, and back into the machine it went. Sakura opened the cabinet, and pulled a small bag of actual coffee grounds out. Three table spoons, and she could fill it with water, hit a button and wait.

Sakura could not sit still. Her hair was still damp, dripping all over the nice wood floor. She didn't feel like drying off yet, or even getting dressed. Instead, she tackled the rice cooker next. It had been days since the last time she had made rice, and honestly, the routine was something nice.

Once it had been cleaned out, and she had finished rinsing the rice, Sakura resigned herself to the fact she would actually need to be wearing something when her boys showed up.

And they were definitely going to show up. She dropped the pot back into the rice cooker, plugged it in, and hit the start button. Her coffee pot wasn't even half full yet, so she went to dress without the glory of caffeine to aid her.

Jeans that had seen better days. Sasuke's old clan shirt, with the faded fan emblem on the back and the comforting knowledge that he couldn't fit into it because their mutual blond idiot did not know what was allowed in a dryer and what needed to hang to dry. The shirt was still a bit big on her, but it was comfortable and that was all that mattered. Sakura frowned at the split ends in her hair, and tossed it up in a messy bun for good measure.

Then: coffee, glorious black coffee with enough sugar to send someone into a diabetic coma. She sipped at her coffee for a moment, enjoying both it and the light peeking through her windows. Sakura checked her phone, purely to send a new email to Tsunade. She ignored the outstanding text messages.

There was a knock on her door. She ignored it. Instead, Sakura took an old dust cloth and began wiping down the shine in the corner.

The person kept knocking. Sakura reasoned that anyone important would have a key. Sasuke, Naruto and Ino all had keys. Colored ones, so they wouldn't lose it. And if Naruto lost Sasuke's key again, they knew where the spare one was at.

(Naruto always left the key to her apartment at his apartment, and Sasuke didn't like things in his pockets to make noise. Therefore, Naruto got to carry Sakura's key whenever they were together. And really, Sasuke and Naruto were never not together.)

Sakura set the picture frame down, and smiled fondly at her parents faces. It had been too long since her home actually felt warm and full of life, comforting.

The stranger didn't stop banging on her door. Sakura rocked back on her heels, and headed towards the door the same time Daiki finally emerged from the bedroom. The shepherd rubbed up against Sakura's leg much like a cat would, and followed her to the door.

She unbolted the chain lock, and yanked the door open.

And, of course, both Shisui and Itachi were standing outside her door, with Sasuke and Naruto leaning against the adjacent wall.