Thanksgiving pretty much sucked for me today, so I went to my room and wrote. The whole idea of this is that each word follows the alphabet, and I matched a person to each prompt. It took me about two hours to search the dictionary for each word, then match each word to a male that Sakura could relate to. I'm not posting them in order, though, but separately since each is a different pairing. Hope you enjoy, and I hope your Thanksgivings were much better than mine!
Title: Of Cigarettes
"I don't understand why you smoke those things."
It was a phrase he was constantly used to hearing, mainly from people who were ignorant to the bodily and mental reaction of those little cancer sticks he practically lived on. He wouldn't admit it, but it had become a habit over an actual addiction, but like Genma had his oral fixation with senbon needles and Tsunade had her sake, he had his habitual cigarettes.
The medics were the worst, he'd come to figure out. It was pretty self-explanatory why. Tsunade seemed to lay off of him, thankfully, and he assumed it was because the amount of alcohol she consumed would kill her off just as fast as his cigarettes and he knew she wasn't one to be considered a hypocrite.
Nearly every person he knew bugged him about his habit, minus the civilians who generally kept their noses out of his business.
That one day, however, she approached him, and he knew immediately that she was not only Kakashi's ex-student, but that she was a medic-nin, as well, which he could see from her short-skirted white medic outfit. The first thing he did was take a long drag from his cigarette, keeping a trained eye on her as she made her way closer to him.
When she got to him, he expected her to ask him why he smoked, or tell him it was bad for him. She sat down next to him on the bench he had been enjoying in solitude on and that skirt of hers moved higher than it should have, but he ignored it -barely- by taking another drag of his cancer stick, leaving it in his mouth so he would have to reach up and take it out when she asked him.
Moments of silence passed quickly and she opened her mouth to spill what he thought would be those words. He didn't see her hand reaching up to snatch his cigarette until it was already out of his mouth.
He choked out a, "Hey! Give that-!" before she stuck part of the little rolled addiction past her pink-glossed lips and inhaled. Any words he had left to say were immediately swept away by that simple action. She gave a soft cough before expelling the smoke from her mouth.
She pulled the cigarette from her lips and looked at it with indifference. She made a soft noise in her throat and gave the stick back to the bulky man beside her and then stood, dusting her uniform's back off.
"I don't understand why you smoke those things," she said matter-of-factly.
He blinked at her, eyes slightly wide with shock. Her legs moved before he could comprehend she was moving, and when he finally did, she was already nearing the corner of the street. He looked down at the cigarette in his fingers, now with a slight pink lip print at the end, then looked back up at her fading figure.
"At least she bothered to try it before she said it."