~A Dangerous Game~

Chapter 1: One of Those Days

"Good morning, Dr. Haruno!"

Sakura smiled at the young nurse sitting at the front desk in the surgical ward as she approached.

"Good morning Seira," Sakura greeted happily, placing her travel mug of coffee on the counter as she began to rifle through the stack of files nearby. "What kind of morning have we had?"

The nurse made a face as she pushed back, rolling across the small office on her chair and reaching out for a particular binder.

"The usual."

Sakura laughed, a hint of exhaustion evident in her voice as she brushed her bangs from her eyes with one hand and took a long sip of her delicious, hot caffeinated beverage.

"Hectic, huh?"

"Incredibly." Seira agreed as she rolled back to her desk, letting the huge binder drop onto the raised counter with a thunk.

Sakura reached a hand out and spun the binder around so she could read the label on the spine. Quirking an eyebrow, Sakura glanced down at Seira questioningly.

"What's this?"

"The reason you got called in early," Seira sighed regretfully, "Apparently some really important guy – I have no idea who he is so I think he just thinks he's important – wants a consultation for a big surgery he may have to have. He wants the best," Seira informed as she scooted her chair down the desk to grasp the ringing phone. As she lifted the receiver, Seira grinned at her and finished, "and you're the best. The meeting is in an hour – I hear he's a real gem. Have fun!"

Sakura grumbled around the lip of her mug as Seira answered her call with a wink that told her 'he's a real gem' was not meant to be a compliment of the man in any way.

So it was going to be one of those days, was it?

Snatching the binder from the counter with a light-hearted glare back at Seira, Sakura trudged the rest of the way down the hall to her office. If she only had an hour to study these files and prepare for the consultation, she needed to get started, pronto.

"I saw that, Mr. Kawasaki," Sakura called out in a sing-song voice as she breezed past the open door to Daichi Kawasaki's room. Sakura had a soft spot for the older gentleman who was admitted for heart problems. He was a jovial and friendly man who gave Sakura what she liked to refer to as 'Grandpa' vibes, but the man had a real vice when it came to foods that weren't good for him. He also had friends that managed to sneak in his favourite meals, anyway.

Back-tracking a couple of steps and slipping into Daichi's room, Sakura wandered over to his bed, placing her binder temporarily down on the bedside table.

Daichi grumbled as he lay back in his bed, leaving his cholesterol packed breakfast neglected on his table.

"You see everything, don't you Miss Sakura?" He accused her lightly as she began a check-up.

"Oh yes, Mr. Kawasaki, nothing gets past me," Sakura countered with a smile as she touched her fingers to his neck, feeling his pulse.

As she slipped her stethoscope from around her neck, Daichi shot her a concerned frown.

"I'm not surprised," he answered, "considering you always seem to be in the hospital. Weren't you here late last night?"

Why yes, Mr. Kawasaki, she had been. She'd worked a twenty-four hour shift already, and had headed home for some glorious sleep sometime around two in the morning. Her Blackberry's incessant ringing had woken her at six AM. The voice on the other end of the line – she'd been a tad too sleep disoriented to really care whose voice it had been – had told her she needed to head back to the hospital, stat, because her services were needed.

She really needed to work on that whole 'responding to those that sound like they are of authority' – thing she had going on, otherwise anyone might end up calling her in the middle of the night telling her to do things. Sakura felt better in knowing that she'd likely subconsciously recognized the voice – not to mention she got calls from the hospital like that all the time – and that's why she'd so readily gotten dressed, tied her long pink hair up, and headed out the door.

She was supposed to have had most of the day off, her next shift not having been until two PM. Unfortunately, things changed when a self-important man wanted a consultation with her about a surgery she had yet to read up on.

"A beautiful, talented young lady like yourself should be getting some sleep and taking care of herself." The older man admonished.

Sakura smiled brightly at him at his compliment. Daichi always flattered her every time she stopped by for a visit or a check-up. It was almost comical how much his words maintained her self-esteem after her brutal break-up last month. Romance? Who needs it, anyway?

Sighing, Sakura placed the stethoscope against his chest and had a listen.

"Trust me, Mr. Kawasaki, I try." At the incredulous look he shot her, Sakura let her lips quirk further into a smile, "Well, as much as a busy surgeon can. I'm in high demand," Sakura teased as she tapped the binder she'd left on the side table.

"Oh? What's that?"

"Apparently some bigwig fellow wants a consultation with me," Sakura explained as she placed the stethoscope back around her neck, "enough to merit me being called in early. You see, I would be getting beauty sleep right now were it not for him. Contrary to popular belief, I don't actually live here."

Sakura took a swig of her temporarily forgotten coffee and let the warm liquid sooth her as it slipped down her throat. No, she didn't live at the hospital, but she really did work enough long hours at Konoha General that she wasn't surprised by the rumour.

She was a bit of a workaholic but really, what surgeon wasn't? And when you're the top surgeon, breaks and vacation were few and far between if you even wanted them.

"I guess this old man will take his grumbling his way," Daichi nodded his head towards her binder, "if I ever see him. Don't stay cooped up here all day now, Miss Sakura."

Scooping the binder back up under her arm that held coffee in hand, Sakura snatched his unhealthy breakfast from his table. "Thanks for breakfast, Mr. Kawasaki," She smiled as she made her way to the door, "I'll send the nurses in with something healthy. You know if you keep sneaking in this stuff and eating it you're never going to be healthy enough to leave, right?"

The old man nodded solemnly, even as he cast a longing glance at the sausage, egg and cheese breaded goodness that she held in hand.

"I know, I know..."

"Good! Rest easy!" Sakura called cheerfully as she stepped out of the room. Breakfast, coffee and work in hand, Sakura finally made it to her office.

Falling down into her wheeled chair, Sakura dropped the binder onto her desk. With another gulp of coffee, Sakura cracked the binder open and began to scan the files.


Dusting her hands off on her green scrubs, Sakura leaned against the front desk with a frustrated snort.

Seira glanced her way as she shuffled files around on her desk. Hesitantly, she inquired, "So how'd the consultation go?"

Sakura released another snort and crossed her arms in front of her, crinkling her white lab coat at her sides.

"Not fun, eh?"

"If by 'real gem' you meant a super creepy self-important son of a bitch with a penchant to drawl and give orders that sound like requests, then you really did prepare me for that meeting."

With a huff, Sakura futilely blew several of her bangs out of her face only to have them fall back against her forehead.

"Hey now, I saw him for like a second," Seira defended herself as she came out from around her desk and leaned beside Sakura. "everything else I knew about him was just staff gossip. So it was really that bad?"

Sakura sighed and dug her hands into her pockets as she leaned her head back to examine the roof tiles.

"He wasn't unpleasant, per se, it was just a surprisingly unpleasant experience." Sakura tilted her head to look at the nurse who was quickly becoming her confidant and friend, "did you get a chance to read over his files?"

The brunette shook her head.

"Well, they're weird. I can't put my finger on exactly what about them makes my spidey-senses tingle, but there's something off about them."

Seira hummed in thought. "Maybe he travels a lot and his records are in shambles from multiple hospitals putting them together? Conglomerate documents like that are always troublesome."

Sakura let the thought roll around in her head for a moment. She had had an idea along the same lines.

"Yeah, maybe." She agreed, looking back up at her favoured roof tile, "He definitely also has problems. I can understand why he wanted a consultation with the best," Sakura mentally grimaced at the information she'd gathered from his documents and their meeting, "not to sound cocky, of course."

Seira laughed and shook her head, turning around against the counter and leaning over to reach for the phone that was once again, ringing.

"You are the best, Dr. Haruno. I swear you're a large part of why this hospital is so popular."

Sakura smiled at the girl as she answered the phone, making affirmative noises as she furiously scribbled on a notepad. A small frown crossed Sakura's face as the nurse cast a loaded glance in her direction.

Oh God, what now?

Seira hung up the phone and held up her notepad, reading over her scribbles. With a sigh, Seira seemed to resign herself to telling Sakura what was up as she turned to face the pinkette.

"Dr. Yakushi is downstairs and on his way up."

Sakura blanched. "Kabuto? Dr. Kabuto Yakushi from Oto Hospital?"

Seira nodded.

"Why is he here?" Sakura squeaked quietly, now suspiciously casting glances over her shoulder for the tall bespectacled doctor.

"I don't really know," Seira said apologetically, "I guess he has business here. I thought you'd know. Are there any conferences today?"

Sakura blinked. "Conferences? What? No, we don't have any until next month."

Sakura took a moment to brood. Why was Kabuto Yakushi at her hospital? Was it Halloween and she had missed it coming? That man gave her the creeps. He was an intelligent man and a gifted surgeon, and popular talk amongst the medical community had him and Sakura labelled as rivals.

And yeah, okay, Sakura would admit that she admired some of the man's work, and she did generally like almost always being one step ahead of him, but she didn't want a rival. Plus, he creeped her out. There was just this aura about him, when he'd stand there and push his glasses up the bridge of his nose that always made Sakura want to shiver.

An unfortunate thought struck Sakura as she sighed dejectedly. "We still haven't found a replacement for Dr. Hachiro yet, have we? She's on vacation for the next few days and we can't have the slot open. The current surgical staff are way too overworked as it is to cover her surgeries."

Seira tapped her fingernails anxiously against the counter as she pondered what Sakura had said. "Dr. Hachiro's good. Would they seriously call in Dr. Yakushi, from a different hospital, to sub for her?"

Sakura suspected they seriously would. The man would probably love the opportunity to test his skills against hers while simultaneously disturbing her, too.

Sakura wouldn't have any of it. Thrusting back her shoulders, Sakura did what any self-respecting, world-class surgeon would do when faced with this predicament.

"Please, Seira, I'll take anything surgery related!" Sakura begged, "There has got to be something I can do that will get me off the floor so I don't have to see him when he gets up here."

Seira quickly scrambled behind her desk and riffled through the stack of file folders for non-life threatening emergency room patients. She flipped past one, frowned, and flipped back to it, sliding it out of the box and flipping it open.

"There's a Hideo Kaneko over in room thirty-seven with a knife wound to the upper arm."

Sakura snatched the file from Seira and ran her eyes over it, incredulous. Seira hadn't been lying.

"This man was supposedly stabbed, is probably bleeding profusely, and we have him in the non-life threatening box? How long has he been waiting?"

Seira tapped a finger to her chin in thought, "I don't know. Maybe an hour? Somewhere in the back of my mind I – oh!" Seira gave a little excited jump as she clasped her hands together, "I remember this file! Yeah, it's only been an hour or so. Mr. Kaneko? He's gorgeous."

Sakura raised an eyebrow at the excited brunette, communicating that Mr. Kaneko's attractiveness didn't tell her why the man's wound wasn't priority to be looked at. There were lots of threats from knife wounds! Was the weapon dirty? Was the wound infected? How much blood had he lost already? Could he go into shock? How much damage had the knife done? He could lose his arm!

Seira snorted and shook her head. "He's a beast, that one. He's handling it pretty well and isn't fazed by it at all. The triage nurses figured there were more pressing injuries to focus on given that he wasn't in a screaming – and I mean that literally – hurry to get it stitched." With a conspiratorial glance Sakura's way, Seira continued, "If you ask me, I'd say this isn't the first time he's been stabbed. Maybe a scorned ex-girlfriend angry because she got dumped? Let me reiterate, he's the sexy, dark, handsome, brooding type. I doubt it was the other way around."

Sakura scoffed, "I'm going to go deal with this, and then have a few words with the triage nurses. Just because the patient is acting like a hero doesn't mean they get to ignore his injury."

Great, two things she could do to occupy her time to help her avoid Kabuto. One man's shitty day is another surgeon's treasure, so they say. Or... something along those lines.

Sakura made her way through the hospital wing, heading for room thirty-seven.

Sexy, dark, handsome and brooding type? Sakura had known someone who fit that bill quite perfectly back in high school. God, that had been almost a decade ago. Feeling old, Sakura rounded a corner and headed down the hall labelled "Rooms 30-45."

She was in her late twenties, but that didn't make her old, the pinkette tried to defend herself. Her mom would have her head for even suggesting it. And so what if she was twenty-seven and incredibly single? She was a career driven woman with not a lot of time on her hands. It couldn't be helped. Anyway, she digressed.

In high school there had been that token male who all the girls had extreme crushes on. Sakura loathed to admit it, but she had been one of those girls who had silently admired him from afar. She'd been far too caught up in prepping for Medical School to do anything really assertive about her crush, but nevertheless she had maybe drawn a heart around his name in her notebook at some point. Possibly.

He had never been all that talkative – which made Sakura realize that most of her classmates had loved him mainly for his looks – and was incredibly talented at almost everything that he did. They had shared a mutual friend and, because of that, Sakura had always felt that she knew him more than the other girls. It was also because of that that she didn't want to blow it by being a fangirl, Sakura remembered as she found room thirty-seven.

She'd lost track of him after graduation and everyone went their own way. His name had been-


A well-built, raven-haired man who looked disturbingly like an older version of Sasuke Uchiha was sitting, topless, on the cot in front of her, holding a bloody cloth to his arm.

The man made no move to acknowledge her presence, and she realized she was still standing in the doorway, gawking, after having said Sasuke's name out loud.

Flipping open his file with all the professional suave she could muster, she scanned for his name again.

"oh, excuse me, Mr. Kaneko, you look like someone I used to know." Sakura glanced up at him for a moment to find his onyx eyes focused on her, but still he made no move to jump up and down and inform her that he'd changed his name from Sasuke Uchiha to Hideo Kaneko after one drunken night and had been too lazy to change it back. Sighing, Sakura snapped the folder shut and approached him, "but I was mistaken."

Dropping the folder off on the desk, Sakura tightened her ponytail and looked at Hideo. He lowered his hand and let her peel the cloth from his upper arm to look at the wound beneath. She sucked in a bit of air between her teeth as she eyed the bleeding gash.

"Want to tell me what happened?"


Sakura's eyebrow twitched as she dropped down into her chair and wheeled over to the medical drawer, taking out a suture kit and some disinfectant.

"I'm sorry if I made that sound like you had an option," She said sweetly as she rolled back towards him, having pumped her chair up to her preferred height, "but I really do need to know how this happened. The weapon could have been infected. Did you fight back and injure your attacker? The hospital can go on alert for a patient coming in with similar injuries to what you can describe for us and call the police."

The man shook his head as Sakura snapped on some rubber gloves. Sakura was prepared to wait him out. She would get at least one answer from this man before she started stitching him up or administering an anesthetic.

She raised a delicate pink eyebrow at him. "Were you the attacker?"

"I was attacked," Hideo finally said in a deep voice that seemed to roll over Sakura like melted butter, "by a kitchen utensil."

Sakura resisted the urge to snort, even as she reached into a drawer beside her and took out a packaged syringe and a vial.

"Attacked by a kitchen utensil?" She repeated curiously as she removed the syringe from the plastic package. "Was anyone wielding it?"

Hideo gave her an irritated look, having obviously caught on to her disbelieving demeanour. "No one was using it. It fell from a cupboard in my house when I opened it."

Sakura stuck the tip of the needle into the vial and pulled, letting the liquid seep into the syringe.

"Bad place to keep a sharp knife," Sakura conceded as she stood to pick out a place on his arm to administer the injection. Maybe it was an irate ex-girlfriend after all. Sakura refrained from offering a little piece of advice along the lines of changing his locks as he shifted his arm away from her.

"I don't need an anesthetic."

Sakura looked back at him, down at his oozing arm, and back up at him. Oh-kay.

"You don't need to be a hero, Mr. Kaneko. Plus, this is a local anesthetic. I assure you, you won't lose any consciousness or experience lapses in judgement. This is only temporary."

As more blood dripped down his arm and he joined her in looking at his wound, he nodded, shifting his arm back within her reach.

Satisfied, Sakura injected him and pushed the syringe, letting the drug make its way into his system. Dousing a cotton ball in disinfectant, Sakura gently dabbed at his gash.

Sakura began stitching him up in silence, the only sounds in the room being that of her tools hitting her sterile tray and their steady breathing. Sakura glanced his way and found him looking at her, rather than down at his arm. A little disconcerted by the depth of his eyes and his freakish similarity to her high school crush, Sakura started up the small talk.

"You're handling your injury incredibly well," Sakura spoke as she worked the stitches through his skin.

"Hn." Sakura assumed that sound was meant to be an affirmative.

"Have you received a cut like this before?" Sakura used the word 'cut' loosely.

"Hn." She couldn't really tell what that one meant, although she suspected it meant something along the lines of none of her business. And, truth be told, as long as she wasn't concerned about the wound being self-inflicted, it really wasn't.

Finishing up her stitches and tying them off, Sakura put her utensils down on the tray and took his arm in hand, examining her work. She usually only volunteered to help with sutures whenever the surgical interns were beginning to look incredibly rundown. Normally, her hands were used for much more delicate and precise operations.

"Are you finished?" Hideo's voice brought her out of her thoughts and she released his arm, snapping off her gloves and dropping them into the trash as she slid back on her stool towards his file.

"Almost, Mr. Kaneko." Sakura confirmed as she took a pen in hand and began to scribble down some notes. "Those are dissolving stitches, so you won't have to come back and have them removed at a later date." He nodded, clearly pleased. "I can prescribe a painkiller for you and okay, judging by that look I assume you don't want one. Oh well, you can use an off the shelf one if you find the discomfort unbearable."

Sakura clicked her pen shut and closed the file, standing up and walking over to the side counter to wet a small washcloth. She dropped the cloth into Hideo's outstretched hand and nodded as he began to clean up the blood that had previously dripped down his arm.

"Stitches aren't new and healed skin though, Mr. Kaneko," Sakura felt inclined to inform the man, "so take it easy with that arm for a few weeks until the wound heals. If you jostle it, your cut can reopen and you'll be right back in here, getting reprimanded by whoever treats you."

He gave her a small nod as he slid off the cot and shrugged into a deep navy blue dress shirt. A spot on the right sleeve was torn and bloodied, but it wasn't visible to her for long as he slipped his arms into his leather jacket.

Sakura stepped out of the room, Hideo following suit.

"Just check out at the front counter and you'll be good to go. Take it easy, Mr. Kaneko."

Hideo – or who may forever be known to her as he-who-looks-like-Sasuke – nodded to her once more and made his way down the hall, towards the front desk.

Sakura watched him go as she pondered his appearance, his name, his story.

He was probably telling the truth. Probably, but then maybe not.


Sakura emitted a sigh of happiness as she sunk down into her soft couch, snuggling into her throw blanket and curling around her favourite cushion. She had changed into a red tank top and a comfortable pair of black shorts.

After a long, exhausting day at the hospital, filled with stitching and consultations and hiding from Kabuto, Sakura was beyond happy to be spending her evening at home. It was only eight PM, and she was planning on spending her night catching up on the news and maybe watching a re-run or two of the fairly new 'Unlucky Princess' series. It was a remake of an older movie, but whatever. The actors were great.

Stretching out on her sofa like a cat, Sakura reached her hand over the armrest and clicked a button on her telephone, activating her answering machine.

She had two new messages. The machine beeped, and the first message began.

"Forehead? Hi, it's me! Yeah, I'm not surprised you didn't answer your phone again. You're, like, never home. You need to get out more and I know, right now, you're prepared to say that I'm not making sense, but I'm telling you that working brutal shifts at the hospital doesn't count as 'getting out'. On that note," her best friend Ino Yamanaka's voice took a gleeful volume and energy increase, "Tenten and I are hitting up the clubs over in the next city sometime this week. You should come with! Maybe snag yourself a sexy man thing because seriously, you need to stop sulking over Dr. What's-His-Nuts who cheated on you with – shit, I'm blanking on her name, but whatever. He's a dirt bag and he's so not important and you can definitely do better so –"

The machine beeped as Ino ran out of message space. Sakura had her pillow in a vicious grip, stopping herself from taking out any frustration on the messenger, i.e. her answering machine. She hadn't been sulking. Ino was right about one thing though – Dr. Takano Masaru was so not worth sulking over. The man had cheated on her with that intern from Physical Therapy! Sakura finished her business with him shortly after she gave him a black eye.

Huffing, Sakura sank back down into the couch as the next message beeped.

"- God, these message times should be way longer. Anyway, call me and tell me that you're going clubbing with us next week. Everyone and their dog knows that you deserve to spend a night out on the town. Love ya bitch, call me back!" And with a beep, Ino's loving rant ended.

Sakura sighed and tossed her cushion up into the air thoughtfully before catching it and holding it to her chest. She'd call Ino back... tomorrow. She'd never really been one for clubbing – too noisy, too warm, too jam packed with sexual tension – but if she went out with Ino and Tenten, she might be able to post-pone future nagging.

Plus, Sakura argued as she stretched her hand out to her coffee table to pick up her television remote, she wouldn't mind hanging out with the girls. It had been quite a while since she'd enjoyed any semblance of girl talk, and as much as she liked Seira, it was nice to talk to people she didn't work with. And her good friends from high school were definitely fun to be with. The only girlfriend missing would be Hinata, who was currently travelling internationally in preparation to take over her father's company.

Clicking on the TV, Sakura rolled over and read the headlines as they scrolled across the bottom of the news channel. Sakura was glad she didn't have to take over her own father's company. Her dad's business specialized in medical equipment and medicines, and was a multi-million dollar corporation. Almost all the hospitals and drug stores used their products.

Sakura had quite a bit of stock in the company and ownership rights, but she could never see herself settling down into a corporate life in order to be able to run it. Her father knew that and was proud of what Sakura did – especially since it was medically related – and simply hoped he would find someone trustworthy to follow in his footsteps.

Finding nothing particularly enrapturing on the news, Sakura began to absentmindedly flick through channels. The Unlucky Princess didn't start until nine.

Sakura halted her channel surfing as something that sounded a lot like floorboards creaking reached her ears over the low din of the television. Pausing all movement and holding in her breath, Sakura strained her ears to catch the sound once again.


Sakura moved to drop the remote back down on the coffee table after releasing a small nervous laugh. She was just being paranoid.

Sakura's ears picked up on the creaking sound again.

Paranoid she may be, but it's always better to err on the side of caution Sakura thought as she slowly stood up from the couch, armed with her television remote and favourite fluffy cushion.

Sakura stepped out of her living room and glanced up and down her hallway. The creaking sound seemed to be coming from down near her kitchen. Sakura began to slowly pad down the hall towards her bedroom, her heart beating rapidly.

So was being so paranoid, but it was par for the course of living alone, and hell if Sakura was going to turn into one of those people that always died first in the horror movies because they got up to go investigate the 'strange noise' on their own.

Sakura approached the open doorway to her bedroom and slipped inside. She wasn't going into that kitchen without being properly armed with a bigger, blunter object than a television remote.

If she was going to end up playing wac-a-vermin all the way around her house because she'd gone and left her small dining room window open all day, she was going to do it with style.

Dropping the cushion onto her bed, Sakura walked past her open bedroom window and approached her closet. Opening the closet doors, Sakura had an arm reached in already before she realized that she definitely had closed her bedroom window before running off to the hospital at the crack of dawn.

Her heart stuck in her throat, Sakura raised her TV remote as she whipped around, a scream half-out of her lungs before a large hand was clamped down on her mouth.

Flailing, Sakura hit her attacker repetitively with her small plastic weapon before she realized her fists would be far more affective. She threw the remote at him and it bounced off his leather clad shoulder. Fisting her hands, Sakura swung, only to be spun around and held against her attacker's chest.

"Stop struggling," The man hissed into her ear and Sakura flailed more, desperately trying to get a sound out from around his hand. He caught her right fist with his other hand and hooked it around her back uncomfortably, in a hold that was designed to be extremely painful unless she stayed perfectly still.

Sakura didn't care; she was not going down like this. Throwing her left elbow back, Sakura felt her arm connect with his ribcage, but his grip only faltered slightly.

With a shove, the man pushed her into her closet. Sakura felt her right arm get released and she launched herself across the tight space, slapping her hand against the small closet light she had installed.

Her small walk-in closet illuminated and Sakura gasped as she caught a glimpse of the man's face before the closet doors were shut tightly in her own.

"Stay put." The deep voice came through the door, cold and irritated.

A resounding click seemed to echo in her ears as her closet lock was snapped shut.

Why did she even have a lock on her closet?

(AN) And so ends chapter one! I enjoyed planting a lot of seeds in this chapter. This is my first dip into writing fanfiction for this pairing and I hope it will be well-received! I'm really excited about this plot line and I hope you are too!

OC's aren't going to be a huge big thing within this story in case anyone was worried. They're just so useful when I want to have Sakura-centric scenes! I don't know much about hospitals and medical related jargon and life beyond the first season of Grey's Anatomy, so I hope I didn't make too many blunders! (Wikipedia and I are going to be super tight for this story) Also, if 27 seems too young for Sakura to be as awesome as I'm saying she is, I'm using the prodigy card.

Please leave me a review and let me know what you think! I don't have much to bribe you all with, other than deep affection and some Sasuke POV next chapter.

Review please? =)


Ps. Fanfiction doesn't like my use of interrobangs, so some of my emotional outbursts are lacking the outburst part =(