Title: Pink Elephants
Author: Sahara Storm
Pairing: None. Team Seven-ish
Word Count: 606
Summary/Description: Team Seven celebrates their promotion in the best way Naruto knows how.
Warning/Spoilers: No spoilers, but note the rating, people. Contains drinking, cussing, etc. If these things offend you… so on and so forth.
A/N: Sorta pointless, a little random. Yay for Team Seven getting utterly, utterly pissed.
Dedication: For DreamScene17. Happy birthday sweetie, and I hope you enjoy this!
Disclaimer: Woe to the whole Naruto-watching/reading world if I ever got my hands on it.
Sakura lifted the sake bottle weakly, and poured into her cup. Most of it pooled onto the counter, but eventually, the container was filled. She downed the warm liquid in one shot, and stared blearily at the three empty sake bottles in front of her on the bar counter. She wondered if she was drunk.
She glanced off to the side, where four pairs of Narutos and Sasukes were hugging each other and tottering about dizzily.
"Ah lurve y-you man," the Narutos hiccoughed. "You're da best."
"Naw, you're da besht, buddy," the Sasukes slurred. "I love you t-too."
Under the kunoichi's hazy gaze, the amount of pairs doubled, only to decrease to three when she shook her head.
Yup, she was drunk alright, and so were they. Totally plastered. The pink elephants were herding on in.
Sakura knew she wouldn't be liking herself very much in the morning when she was bent over the toilet bowl, retching, and simultaneously pouring though her scrolls to find the best hangover cure. She knew that she shouldn't have let Naruto coerce her into coming to the bar. She knew that this certainly wasn't the best way to celebrate their promotion.
But they were Jounin now! At nineteen, they'd finally passed the bloody exam. They'd all done pretty damn good too, Naruto and Sasuke ranking high up there with all the best. Surely, that gave them licence to get drunk off their asses? Yeah, sure, it was irresponsible, and they might not remember shit about what happened in the morning, but hey. Kakashi-sensei would be proud. Finally, his students were bonding like he'd always wanted. Granted, not in the way he had expected, but…
A wave of dizziness wracked her, and she had to hold her head in her arms for a while before it passed. She was thinking too much, she decided. She poured herself and the counter another round, and proceeded to get herself even more inebriated.
Her two team-mates wobbled over to her side. The Kyuubi vessel was burping uncontrollably, and the Uchiha survivor was giggling uncharacteristically and incongruously. He looked like Kakashi when he reached the particularly raunchy sex scene in his book. The medic wished she had brought a camera. Even better, a video camera.
They flanked her, and each slung an arm around her waist.
"This is all your fault, Naruto," Sakura slurred casually.
"Eh! Why, Sakura-chan?" he whined drunkenly.
They were interrupted by a dull thud. Sasuke had slumped forward onto the counter, dead in the pool of spirituous liquid. Sakura thought she could hear snoring. Strangely unconcerned, she turned back to Naruto.
"Because it was your bright idea to come here, to do this. And I'm feeling priggish, so I'm blaming you."
"Oh. Okay." He seemed to consider this. "Well, who better to get drunk with, eh?" He grinned vainly.
"Would you two shut up?" Sasuke murmured. "'M trying to get some sleep here."
Naruto grunted derisively.
"Yeah, in a puddle of sake. I hope you snort some up your nose and drown."
Briefly, the kunoichi wondered where all the goodwill and camaraderie and 'I lurve you's had gone. Then she remembered that this was Uzumaki Naruto and Uchiha Sasuke. Right. This was normal.
"You're a prick, Naruto." It was a bit muffled, but not unintelligible in the slightest.
"And you still love me."
Somewhere between the first punch and the last hug, Sakura passed out.
Seven o'clock next morning saw Haruno Sakura perched over her toilet bowl, scanning a scroll, her team-mates' names (along with a few choice curses) on her lips, and with the strangest sense of déjà vu.