Author's Notes: Hey readers! I'm Lizz. This is my first actual attempt at a serious shoujo-ai/yuri fic. Normally I stick with yaoi stuff, but I absolutely had to get this out. It's been cooking in my mind for a good two weeks now. I really hope that you like it! Alternate Universe, Yuri, InoSaku, Sakura's POV.
Warnings: Girl Love!!! Language, sexual content.
Pairings: InoSaku main, a few random ones not important to the storyline thrown in there for background.
Oh, and just to let you know, flaming will do zero good. But please, be my guest if you'd like to. I understand a lot of you have some close-minded rage you'd like to take out on me.
Not Your Average Day
Sweet Jesus I hate this law firm.
Here I am again, swamped and working late into the night on this stupid case, in this stupid building, bored to fricking tears! Answer me one question, dears, why the hell did I become a lawyer?
Oh, right. The pay.
I sat on a Friday night over a desk covered in papers and books, attempting to find a clause in the law that might possibly save my case, not to mention my ass. Hideki-san, my boss was packing up for the night. Which meant I had to leave too. Damn him and his rude, untrusting self. He had to be absolutely one hundred and fourty percent sure that no employee work past nine any day of the goddamned week. He says it's for ethical purposes, like we're some sort of animals or slaves. He just doesn't want to pay overtime, I swear it.
"Haruno-san, get your ass out of here! it's five 'til!" His voice boomed through the small building, snapping me to attention.
I slammed the book shut and stood, adjusting my skirt and snatching up my purse to leave. "Yes, sir."
Home wasn't much more exciting than work. But I just keep reminding myself that at least there are people to talk to at work. I don't even have a dog. I toss my purse on the floor and plop down on the couch, and flip on the tube. The news is on, and they're talking about some building on fire in the west part of town. Unfortunate? Definately. Do I care? Definately not.
I used to be happy. Back in high school. I remember a few people. I didn't like many, that's for sure. And I had that huge crush on one of those few kids I could stand, Sasuke. Yeah, he's gone off with Naruto. The two are right now vacationing in Niagara Falls. Lots of fun there, I'm sure. I'm stuck here, will the same ol' job, every day. I haven't had a boyfriend since the month I dated Lee back in junior year! Turns out he was gay. For that Gaara of the Sand guy. Fuuuuun... What am I, a queer magnet? Am I that manly? I consider my hands, my big, wide hands. Bleck. I grab my stomach, which is pudgy and grumbling. Double bleck. I forgot to get lunch again, didn't I? Smooth, Sakura.
And if you haven't figured it out yet, my name is Haruno Sakura. I'm 23 years old and painfully single. I work at a law firm, renowned for it's cheap priced lawyers and equally cheap service in small claims. I own a red Volvo, which is slowly but surely giving out on me a little more every day. I can only hope to get in a monsterous accident to finally get rid of it. You see, my life is anything but eventful.
It's Saturday morning, and finally I can get some peace. I slam my hand down on the alarm clock to silence it, and turn over, absorbing the silence. Finally, a little extra sleep. Wait a second. I can feel the tiny mental notes jabbing me in the brain. Fix the sink... Thirty minutes, please? Go grocery shopping... Just ten, come on. Do some laundry...
"Fine! I'm up!" I yell to no one.
Without showering, I put a bra on, and pull on some jeans and a teeshirt. I've decided to take on the least of three evils, and go grocery shopping. I fix my hair into a messy ponytail, disregarding makeup. Who am I going to impress anyways? But just to protect everyone else, I spray a bit of perfume to cover my three-day stink I've been building up.
My car is sitting menacingly in the drive way, waiting to be driven. Or trashed. Whichever comes first, I'm sure it's fine with it. Either way, I slip on tennis shoes and grab my purse, heading out the door.
I get into my car and shut the door. In one fluid motion, I start the car and back out. The radio starts off blaring, and I'm forced to turn it down. The grocery store isn't far from my house, only about half a mile. But any driving time is good thinking time for me. I don't really have much to think about. Except maybe how my life sucks. But sometimes I consider the fact that I'm young and have lots of time to find happiness and love and all that good Disney shit. Today I thought about how I need to get a hair cut. It was getting really long, almost down to my butt. And the pink color was so gross and unfitting. It made me feel like I needed to be happy all the time, which may be part of the cause of my depression. But either way, I was tired of looking at it every day, wishing it would turn black. But dying my hair black would feel so juvenile, like I was back in high school. I remember when I dyed it blond to get Sasuke's attention. He never said a word. That was so like him, though. Always quietly angsting to himself. Just like me. But he's happy now, and I'm not.
The grocery store is in front of me now, and the car is getting pretty cold. How long have I been sitting here? It's only October, but it's fucking freezing. Why didn't I bring a jacket?
A lone cart is in the middle of the parking lot, so I grab it and drop my purse in the child seat. That's one good thing about being single. No kids. Jesus, I fucking hate kids. And can someone tell me who the hell decided to make it so cold this month? Oh well, at least it's warm in the store. But it smells like vomit. Whatever.
What's first on our list? Milk. I make my way to the back of the store, which is pretty small so it doesn't take long to get there. Some guy and his girlfriend or wife or whatever are shopping for milk, too. I open a door and pull out a gallon of skim milk, which I can tell is going to last longer than necessary. I don't really like milk, but I have it with my coffee.
Next up on my list, ramen. Ramen always reminds me of Naruto. That's one problem about him. He never gets out of your head. Kind of funny, really.
And just when I expected today to be normal, some crazy chick comes flying around the corner and smashes into me. No, not my cart. My actual person! So of course my body goes awkwardly flying across the aisle, knocking down a rack of X-rated magazines. The girl rushes over to help me up. I just want to die right now. My back hurts like a sonovabitch, and I've got some random girl standing over me.
"Oh my god, are you okay, miss? I'm really sorry, honestly, I didn't see you the-"
I cut her off, "I don't know how you can see anything, flying around the corner like a fucking bat out of hell!"
A few people are starting to crowd around now. The last thing I want is people's sympathy. I think she could see the embarassment in my eyes, because she quickly shoed them away. Now I'm trying to pull myself off of the floor, looking like a total retard, no doubt.
"Here, let me help you up," she says, taking hold of my arm and lifting me to my feet.
This is the first time I've actually gotten a good look at her. She's got these blue eyes that look really pretty, and what's wierd is she has tiny specks of brown in them. Freckles in her eyes. I heard that can cause some sort of diseases easier. She's got stunning white-gold hair, too. It's long, like mine, and drapes over her chest quite nicely. But wait one fricking second! Why am I noticing all of this crap? Ugh! The bitch t-boned me!
"Let go of me," I say, finally taking my arm from her grip.
I took my shopping cart and turned the other direction to leave, but for some reason I couldn't move. I turned around, and saw she was picking up the magazines and putting them back carefully, with a sad expression on. I walked over to her, and knelt down beside her, helping to pick up.
I flashed a smile, "Let me help you."
She smiled back. And heavens, did she have a smile.
I put the last magazine back, and turned to leave, but she grabbed my hand, and whispered in my ear, "You just got your period."
My face went red. Aw shit. She handed me her sweatshirt from her basket and smiling said, "Don't worry about returning it."
She quickly left the scene of the crime, heading to the check out. I wrapped the sweatshirt around my waist and headed to the bathroom. Maybe that's why I felt like shit. I feel a little better now, though. That's for sure.
I'm not sure if it's because of her or not.
I didn't even get her name.
A/N: Updates soon, promise. But you can't rush these things, because if you do, they turn out like crap.
Thank you for reading!