Aria stood awkwardly in the chamber, playing with the edges of her new clothes. The soft silk shirt was smooth against her skin, yet left her feeling chilled in the cool air. She took a deep breath to steady her nerves and studied the room around her.

It was large and well lit from giant bay windows along the far wall, but everything in the room seemed to be decorated in cool colors, silvers and blues and pale purple. It took her a moment to notice the lady standing towards the back of the room, since her long silvery hair and white-washed coloring made her blend perfectly with her surroundings. Aria drew in a sharp breath -- it didn't take a second glance for her to see that the lady was Rhathian, and the most pristine woman she had ever laid eyes on.

The woman smiled, and it was like melting snow; her face and skin seemed to glow with an ethereal light. She took a graceful step forward.

"Aria," she said, in the most soft and melodious voice Aria had ever heard. It flowed over her skin like cool water. "Welcome to my chambers."

Aria was frozen to the spot, unsure of how to react, and finally tipped into a clumsy bow.

The lady laughed -- laughed! -- and held out her hand. "My dear, there is no need for that," she smiled again. Aria felt the knot of tension soothing from her stomach; something about the woman's presence was all-soothing.

"You're the Lady Requiem?" she finally stuttered, hating the slightly choke-sound in her voice.

The woman laughed again, low and flowing, and walked forward once more. As she grew closer, Aria's eyes were drawn to the pearl-white stone that was embedded in her forehead, and the long, silvery braids of her hair. She looked like an ice goddess, with large, luminous, deep blue eyes.

"You have traveled far to be here today," the Lady said. "How is Wraith?"

Aria's eyes widened. She hadn't realized the woman knew the Magus. "I guess he's... okay," she said. "Actually I haven't seen him since we got back... but his Shadow is right outside."

"Yes," the Lady said, nodding slightly. "I do not allow them in my chambers, their magic is... distracting."

Aria didn't know what to say, so stayed quiet.

"Do you know why you're here?" the Lady asked.

"I take it there's something amiss with the Omegas," Aria said, finally feeling on more familiar ground. "Luz is awakening?"

The Lady nodded. "Yes, and we must ensure that it does not happen. I have summoned what Rhathians can be found around the mountain, given them Wisps, and seen that they are informed of the situation...." she sighed. For a moment Aria saw a look pass over the woman's brow that was old and tired. "They are not as I had hoped."

Aria flushed slightly, unsure of whether to be insulted or just curious. "We've been scattered for more than a century," she murmured, unsure of why she was trying to make excuses.

The woman smiled at this again. "I know, child," she said quietly. "But you see, it is not just any Rhathian I am seeking... I do not suppose you have heard of the great Legends?"

Aria frowned, thinking back to the stories of her people that her mother and father had told her. She had been so young when they'd died, it was hard to remember exactly. "I'm not sure...."

"It is a simple story, really. In the beginning of things, the Omegas were formed, and the Rhathians made by the gods to look over them. We were given Wisps, the embodiment of the Omegas' dreams, so we might access some of their power by song-casting. The strongest of the Rhathians, however, were those of the royal bloodline... their power given by the gods, they more than any other Rhathians were the direct caretakers of the Omegas. They were the only ones with the ability to speak directly to the great beasts... and sing them to sleep, or to waking."

"To waking?" Aria asked, listening intently. It was not just a story of a forgotten culture, but a story of her own people, long lost. She was already filled with questions.

The Lady Requiem waved her hand in the air, as though shooing away a fly. "Yes, but for now that is not important. What we are looking for is a member of the royal bloodline."

Aria waited for the Lady to continue speaking, but when she stayed silent, she prompted, "Why not just check the headstones? Don't they point to lineage?"

The Lady didn't meet her eyes for the first time. "The color of the bloodline's headstone has been lost... forgotten. No records or portraits exist that mention it; it was such common knowledge from that time period that apparently no one thought to write it down, and so many things were destroyed...."

Aria nodded, realization dawning. "And that's why you have the testing, yes? To see which Rhathian it is?"

The Lady nodded again. "If any of them."

A cold chill went down Aria's spine as she thought of what those words implied. Perhaps there was none of the royal bloodline left. Perhaps they were all destroyed, as their history indicated. Then the Omega would surely awaken, and no one would be able to stop it, or find out why.

"What happens when the Omegas wake up?" Aria asked softly.

The Lady Requiem had turned to look out one of her windows, lost in thought, but now she turned back. Her eyes were grave. "It is not altogether known... but what records that are left are hard to interpret. There are beings that exist in the realms of the gods that do not belong on mortal soil, yet if the Omegas were to awake, then the boundary between the mortal realms and those of the immortals would deteriorate."

Aria frowned. "But what of the Omega of Light? Surely the gateway She guards would lead to the Lighter Realms and to good things?"

The Lady Requiem didn't respond immediately, then pursed her lips. "There are just as many evils that lurk in the Light as there are in the Dark, my child," she murmured. "Immortals care not for the wellbeing of those who walk on this earth, no matter their creed."

Aria wasn't sure how to respond to this. She clenched her fists instead, her palms sweaty, once again growing nervous. It seemed that everything was spiraling out of control with devastating consequences -- she did not fully understand how Luz guarded the gateway to the Realm of the Gods, or if She was the gateway itself, or exactly how those dynamics worked; only that it left a cold chill in her gut.

And it all rested on them finding one of the royal bloodline.

"Go now, young one, I have other duties to fulfill," the Rhathian said, gently holding out her hand. "But we will speak again soon. If you see Wraith, tell him... tell him thank you for me."

Aria nodded, not fully understanding the woman's request but respecting it anyway. She took the hand and clasped fingers with the Lady, then bowed clumsily again, turning to take her leave.

"Oh, and my dear?" the woman called after her.

Aria glanced over her shoulder.

The woman's eyes were twinkling. "Release the worry from your brow. You are safe here."

Aria gave the woman a grateful smile, surprised by the wave of relife that flooded over her, the release of the tension she hadn't realized she'd been carrying. The Lady Requiem smiled back, then lightly waved. Aria turned and exited the door.

When she entered the passageway outside, Shadow was gone. She shrugged to herself, unsure of whether she was relieved or concerned, then turned down the hall that she thought would lead to the ballroom she had walked through earlier. The maid had invited her to explore the castle, and after Requiem's words, she needed some time alone to think.

Whisper bobbed next to her shoulder, having been uncharacteristically quiet during the entire meeting. "She is an incredible being," he murmured, his voice sounding stunned. "And her Wisp... he was old. An elder."

Aria nodded, remembering that she had spotted the woman's wisp hovering at the back of the room -- the bright light had been so large she had almost mistaken it for a lamp of some kind. "I'm worried, Whisper," she said softly.

"Me too," he replied.

They continued walking in silence, each lost in their thoughts.

Just some fan art of Neil Gaiman's Sandman. Meet Dream, one of the Endless, the Lord of the Dreaming.

Love me for my rock,

My stone,

My brick.

Love me for my mountain peaks,

And my crooks and nicks.

Love me for my pebbles,

My sharp angles,

My shallow graves.

For my winding trails,

My steep pathways,

And dark caves.

Love me for my innocence,

Love my for my stature;

No man is a mountain,

So I ask --

Please love my nature.

Look, the deal is that I can't be myself around you. I can't be flawed and stupid and make mistakes around you. You make me so damned ashamed of myself whenever I do that I can't stand looking at you. My own fault? I don't know. It could have been, but I think it's more of a sign from God -- and a message from my common sense. I want to be able to be coarse, rude, and ridiculous around you and not feel the weaker for it. Instead, there isn't a damned thing I've done in my life that you don't make me feel ashamed of, and I'm sorry to admit it, but I resent you for that. Whoever I love and will marry, we will be equally flawed, we will be equally perfect, and we will be equally insane. Also, we will be equally judgmental, and have equal faith in each other's abilities to forgive. Because without forgiveness, what life do we truly have?

I will not be made to feel inferior because I decided to experiment, to take matters into my own hands, and to learn from my mistakes. I am not a bad person, and I will not be made to feel as though I am. Perhaps you have done more than some people would have -- but it doesn't matter to me. The truth is that I was never comfortable just cracking my own jokes around you, though you never really got them. Even being around my friends, you made me feel guilty. Talking to them, you made me regret. Just having fun became a sin. Sure, you were going through changes,  you were experiencing new things, but that made it even more destined not to be. It was flawed from the start. How can I expect something to become perfect when it has been flawed from the beginning?

I hope you don't take this personally; it is the truth, and such things should be taken as such -- as the inexplicable, impersonal truth. But my feelings aren't changing, and I'm sure yours aren't either, so let us leave it as this.

I know I'm going to regret this, but fuck it, I'm doing it anyway.

To give you a name is to limit you. To give you a face or a voice is to limit you. I cannot think of a title or a word that would not put boundaries on what you are - even God has become convoluted by meaning and interpretation. You are the colors that a blind man sees, the smell of stardust, the sound of absence, the touch of infinity. People travel the world in search of you, and I found you hiding in my closet. I wonder if you were waiting for me; if you knew I would become your friend as much as you would become mine. Something tells me that either way, you are delighted all the same. It is amazing to me that something that is so strictly incomprehensible is also so strangely familiar. Somehow so comfortable. So human.

I try to listen as intently as you do. That's just like you - always listening. You hear me at my most genuine moments, and you understand my doubt. I make no promises to you that are not felt by the bottom of my heart; you liberate me from lies and from needing to hide. In front of your eyes, why wear a mask? With you, honesty is the only policy, it is the only thing that we can share, for you see through my lies and self delusion as clearly as though they did not exist. You do not see what is not there - only what I really am. And you listen; you listen to the questions I ask, the choices I make, and I surrender again and again to your infallible presence. How is it you can be so close? My mind so boggled with questions, and you remain, unanswering, yet somehow answering everything. Somehow, I learned the truth before I found the words to ask. I sat down right there on the floor, inseparable from you, and breathed your essence. You told me, with a voice that is more powerful than sound, more powerful than sunlight, that I am loved; that I am part of something greater, and that everything around me is connected. You taught me that, within seconds you changed my heart and my life, you opened my eyes and ears to a world of new color. A world of new logic, and new love. You showed me that.

And yet so many live a lonely existence, never knowing who you are. Are you lonely too? Sometimes I wonder, with all of this love and peace, how can it make you so happy when we love you back? And yet it does. Some part of me knows that it does.

But I am weak, and I wish to change the world, and you have given me skills but the path is long and convoluted, hidden and twisted by doubt and second-guesses. But if I listen - like I promised I would listen - I can hear you all over again. That whatever step I take, you are holding my hand, my balance and my confidence, my support and leader. I have done the hardest part already - I asked. All that I am and do it is left to you.

Snippet just for fun.
____________

I used to stare at the sun for hours, waiting to go blind.

Although I knew that I wouldn't, some part of me kept hoping that I would. As though if I just gazed long enough, perhaps for half a day or more, the sun might pierce through me and change me back into what was supposed to be human. Change me into something that belonged in nature.

I would try other things, growing up. Fall out of trees on purpose, landing at odd angles in an attempt to break my legs. I thought of throwing myself in front of cars, but I didn't want to hurt anyone accidentally, so I threw myself off of bridges instead, or rooftops, or anywhere that was high enough really. It never worked. I would hit the ground - or cement, or metal - and still I would stay the same. Not even a break in the skin.

The kids all knew I was different. The adults did too, though they did a better job of hiding it. Who would want to be friends with a freak, anyway? That's why I would watch the sun; because maybe if I went blind, I would at least know that I was normal. Human. Just one of many. Then I could go to the hospital or the clinic and feel like I belonged there, like I needed help just like everyone else. That it was okay to be vulnerable, because I was built that way. Instead I find myself observing life rather than experiencing it, watching as others run back and forth, fearing for their loved ones and then loving all the more. And then me, on the sidelines, pathetically trying to learn what I cannot feel, and which comes so easily to others.

The doctors told me I was a miracle. That if God had made a perfect human, it would have been me. That if evolution had a peak, I was its apex. If only I could feel the same way.

If only I could be blind.

Another finished art! Took me maybe 5 hours? I love summer vacation. :)

Finally after eons of doing nothing, I have finally painted some new art.

My Progress:

Sakura slipped inside the building and sighed as she was welcomed by the cool shade of the halls. The air conditioning was an immediate relief. Now just to get up to her bedroom and strip out of these stuffy, itchy clothes... she sighed, heading up the stairs, counting the flights until she reached her floor. A few guests walked past her, chatting amiably and nodding hello. She smiled back, completely fake, and kept walking.

It was all she could do not to grit her teeth in frustration. Sure, she knew she was overreacting to Kakashi's comments, and her emotions were starting to effect her performance on the mission, but somehow she couldn't help it. She had been so excited upon receiving this mission, but actually marrying Kakashi, interacting with him, sleeping in the same bed, and then finding him so damned attractive... it was all going wrong. She was only seventeen - maybe she was too young to handle this kind of thing. She wasn't experienced enough. She hadn't even been kissed before, after all....

And his lips had so gently pressed against hers, warm and surprising on that cold morning... she couldn't get the sensation out of her head.

"Stupid man," she muttered, turning a corner and striding down the next hallway. "It's all his fault!" Kakashi was the one making her nervous and jumpy, about to blow their cover in front of the maid just a few hours before. She never would have acted so thoughtlessly on a normal mission. Somehow this mission didn't even feel real - it was like the whole thing was just some elongated house call, dull and boring, with no chance of excitement or action. Give her a battlefield, a chase through the forest, a fight with a kyuubi - anything but intrigue and polite conversation!

Sakura sighed and her footsteps came to a halt. She glanced around the hallway, looking at the wide doors and the unfamiliar dark panels of wood. Even the carpet had a different design. "Shit," she murmured. This wasn't her floor! She glanced around, looking back down the hallway that she had traveled - she couldn't see the staircase she had taken, and couldn't remember which direction she had come from. There was no one in sight, and this level of the house was eerily silent; she had a foreboding feeling that she didn't belong here.

She took another halting step forward, wondering what to do, when abruptly a sound reached her ears, muffled by the wooden walls. She paused for a moment and listened intently - the murmur of voices teased along the edges of her hearing. But where was it coming from? Obviously behind one of the closed doors. Realistically it was probably just a couple of guests or maybe some servants talking, but there was a certain quality of the voices that seemed serious. Her ninja training was compelling her to investigate.

Slipping into shinobi mode, Sakura gently started walking down the hallway, her slippers making virtually no sound against the thick rugs that covered the floor. She traveled about ten feet, then paused; the sound was more direct now, louder and almost discernible. The voices were definitely male. She glanced at the wall next to her, which seemed to be the source of the sound. There was a door a few paces ahead, but it would be far too obvious if she stopped there; they would doubtlessly see her shadow pass by. Holding her breath, Sakura gently placed her ear against one of the wooden panels and held her breath, focusing all of her attention on what was being said.

"... a grave matter, to be sure...." one voice carried to her.

"Perhaps it is unnecessary... couldn't agree... spoken to yet?"

The voices continued on, rumbling in and out of each other, and Sakura tried not to get frustrated. She couldn't hear anything clearly! It was useless, she would have to get closer somehow....

As though on cue, the wall suddenly moved beneath her fingers. She stepped back abruptly, quelling the gasp that rose in her throat, putting a hand over her chest. A moment passed and she waited, expecting someone to call out to her at any second, to reveal her presence... but nothing happened. Looking back at the wall, she poked at the paneling a bit and it moved again, sliding smoothly inward and to one side. Her eyes widened. It was a hidden door!

It wasn't so unusual, or so she told herself. In these kinds of mansions, there were secret servant passages everywhere, this was probably just one of them. She stepped through the doorway and peaked around inside - it was a darkened, narrow hallway, running parallel to the main hall outside. She nodded to herself; definitely made for servants. Then her eyes were attracted to the narrow beams of light that shone down through the darkness through a few narrow holes in the opposite wall. The voices were much louder now, and clearly understandable. She felt like she was practically standing right next to them!

And then she heard a familiar voice, one that made her quickly step into the servant's hallway and shut the panel behind her. She stepped up to the peep holes and carefully peeked through, hoping the holes weren't visible from the other side. Her suspicions were confirmed - Hyuuga Hiashi.

Hyuuga plus four other men were sitting in a circle of leather arm chairs. Sakura couldn't be sure of the identity of two of them since they were facing away from her, but the fourth was definitely Matsuriko, with his massive beard and long, greasy hair. How a rich lord managed to have such an unkempt appearance was a mystery to her. Now was not the time to linger on his appearance, though; instead she quieted her breathing and listened carefully.

"Your donations would be very appreciated," Matsuriko was saying in a quiet, reedy voice. "You will be remembered if you ever have any future needs...."

"I cannot see the logic in donating such high sums of money if we can't even know the benefactor," Hyuuga responded, winning some of Sakura's respect. "You tell us this gentlemen is in need of funding, but funding for what? I will not have my money go to illegal activities, what if it is traced back to me?"
  
The second man nodded, though Sakura could only see the back of his head. "Yes, and what makes you so sure that we will be reciprocated? Charity is an honorable notion, but you are far too worldly a man to think that it really exists."

"In short, what will we get out of it?" the third man said, shifting slightly in his chair.

Matsuriko smiled smoothly. "Gentlemen, you have such little trust! I have approached you because I feel that you are men with the most to gain from this little... investment." The smile widened. "Despite his lack of funds, I can assure you that this man I speak for is very powerful, and you will not go unrewarded for your... risks."

Sakura grimaced - thanks to the mission scroll and Tsunade's back story, she knew that this "benefactor" was actually Orochimaru, probably looking to pursue some other means of immortality since Sasuke had disappeared for good. It brought a sick quiver to her stomach, and she tried not to feel the familiar, bitter rage that always accompanied his name.

"We need something more concrete, Matsuriko," the third man said. "Let us hear some promises."

"I expected it would come to this-" Matsuriko started, still smiling, when abruptly there was a soft knock on the door. Sakura bit her lip in surprise; she hadn't heard anyone approaching, and it brought her back to herself. She needed to be on guard - she was in a servant's passage, after all, one could stumble across her hiding place at any time.

"Come in!" Matsuriko called, not bothering to hide the annoyance from his voice. The door opened and Sakura squinted, trying to see who it was, though it proved almost impossible. She made out the corner of a frilly dress and a lock of brown hair, but then the girl spoke, and her identity became obvious.

"I have news, my Lord," Yumi said, then paused. "I have done as you've requested."

Matsuriko nodded after a moment, then turned back to the men. "I'm sorry, but will you give me just a minute? I'll be right back." He motioned to the girl an stood up, heading for the door. Sakura's eyes went wide and immediately she switched places, traveling down the servant's hall so she could be closer to the two. They exited the room into the hallway outside, and Sakura stopped against the opposite wall, putting her ear against the wood. Cobwebs and dust plugged her nose, and it was impossible to see anything without peep holes, but she could hear their voices clearly enough.

"I checked their rooms, my Lord," the maid Yumi was saying in a hushed voice. "There was nothing."

"Nothing?" Matsuriko demanded, his tone equally hushed yet obviously urgent. "Nothing at all? They arrived with Hyuuga Hiashi, and I have never heard of their family before. They have to be shinobi!"

"There is no evidence of it, my Lord," the maid said. Sakura bit her lip, thinking of what Kakashi had said earlier. This maid had called herself a ninja of Suna, yet Kakashi had denied it. In all honesty, she didn't know what to believe - it almost sounded to her like the girl was defending them.

"Have they done anything, said anything-?"

"No sir, they act like normal newlyweds," the girl replied. "In my opinion, they don't seem to-"

"I didn't ask for your opinion!" Matsuriko growled. Sakura could almost envision Yumi bowing in apology, her face tinged pink. "Keep an eye on them for the rest of their stay, I don't trust those two. If they do anything suspicious, anything at all, report to me immediately!"

"Yes, my Lord," Yumi replied, and Sakura imagined her bowing again. Matsuriko huffed to himself, then she heard the doorknob rattle and click. They were going back inside. She scurried back down the servant's hallway to where the peep holes were, then paused to peek through again. She couldn't tell if Hyuuga Hiashi or any of the men had been talking in their absence, but when Matsuriko entered, everything was silent.

"I'm sorry for this interruption, but I have matters to attend to before tonight's entertainment," Matsuriko said with another wide grin. "I have summoned servants to take you back to your rooms, they will be arriving here shortly. We will continue this discussion at a later time."

With that, Matsuriko turned to leave, and the three other men stood up. Sakura paused for a moment in case any of them might speak, but then she heard the patter of footsteps against wood, and she knew that a group of servants were approaching. Her heart began to pound. She had to get out of there! She put her hand against the wooden wall panel, then thought better of it - she didn't know Yumi's loyalties, and if she was seen in the hall now, it would be far too suspicious. Her gaze turned to the dark stretch of the passageway before her - it was unlit and dusty, and the servants were coming from the opposite direction. If she ran to her right, chances were they wouldn't bump into each other. She just had to make sure that she didn't bump into anyone else until she could find her way safely back into the normal parts of the house.

Her footsteps light, she turned and half-jogged down the hallway, carrying herself away from Matsuriko's conference room and the arriving servants. She had no idea where she was going, but the past few minutes had given her plenty to think about, and she wasn't in any rush. Finally this mission was starting to get interesting - she would have a lot to discuss with Kakashi later... once she got the nerve to talk to him again.

Sakura sighed. Why did she always have to make things so complicated?

She pondered this while walking through the endless shadowy corridors.

- o - o - o -

Her toe nails had just dried when there was a knock on the door.

Sakura hadn't been expecting this. She'd gotten back to their bedroom with only minor difficulty - after wandering for about twenty minutes through the servant hallways of Matsuriko's mansion, she had finally found another exit panel and stumbled out into another hallway. A little dusty but none the worse for wear, she had asked a passing servant to show her back to her room, and had arrived unscathed. Kakashi was nowhere to be found. She hadn't lingered on this, but had rather stripped, bathed, redone her hair and makeup, and had gone about dressing in appropriate evening attire. She told herself she was doing it for the mission, but Sakura couldn't help but feel a thrilling satisfaction as she finished primping and twirling her hair, then putting on a form-fitting evening gown. The long, champagne-colored silk was shimmery and soft, perfect for visiting the theater and maybe sharing a few drinks afterward. Naruto had always complained that she had turned into quite the tom-boy since cutting her hair so long ago, but right now her stifled feminine side was gloating. She looked good, and she knew it.

But time passed, and still Kakashi hadn't shown... at least, not until the knock on the door.

Sakura peeked out of the bathroom, unsure of what to expect. Was it a servant? A messenger? She had grown slightly worried, wondering whether her former sensei would show up at all, but why would he bother knocking? It was him room too, and last time he had barged in without so much as a word. She paused for a moment, then slipped on her indoor slippers and shuffled towards the front door, frowning. Perhaps it was Yumi again? Maybe their position had been found out.

She opened the door a crack to peer through it. Her eyes widened.

Flinging the door wide open, Sakura stared out at the hall beyond - or more accurately, at the man standing there. She had always heard the words "breathless" and "butterflies" before, but never had she experienced them both at quite the same time, and in such an extreme way. For a moment she felt light headed.

"Kakashi...?"

"Hello, Sakura-chan," he said softly. Again, she couldn't breathe.

Her teacher - husband - stood in the hallway, and the sight was magnificent. She didn't know how he had managed to change his clothes or even access his bags without her knowing it, but there he was, dressed in a black suit with an elaborate jacket, a gold vest visible underneath, somehow perfectly suited to her champagne-colored dress. Everything on him was immaculate and perfect, from the cut of the shoulders down to his neatly tailored pants and shiny black shoes. Her eyes traveled over him once, twice, a third time... she couldn't stop staring. His hair was brushed. Somehow it retained its previous wildness, yet it was gelled, groomed, shining... and in his hand, the most beautiful bouquet of flowers she had ever seen.

She was speechless.

"Are you ready?" he asked, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly. She put out a hand to steady herself.

"Kakashi," she finally said, now blushing profusely. "W-where have you been? I...."

"Doesn't matter," he murmured, his smile widening. "This mission has been hard on you, Sakura. I brought these for you. Sorry for being so insensitive earlier, I didn't realize."

It took her a long moment to remember what he was talking about, then she laughed sheepishly, suddenly acutely embarrassed. She took the flowers and sniffed them in an attempt to hide her blush. "Don't worry about it, Kakashi," she murmured, glancing at him through her eyelashes. "Thank you."

He offered his arm. "Are you ready? Dinner should be starting in a few minutes. We shouldn't be late."

Sakura stared at him for a long moment, then shook her head. "Just let me change my shoes and get my purse," she said, scurrying back inside. She shut the door behind her and placed the bouquet on the bed, then ran around the room, quickly tossing her used clothing into her trunk and tidying up best she could. Then she slipped her feet into a pair of expensive white pumps and grabbed a matching white handbag, finishing off the look with a white shawl that wrapped stylishly around her bare shoulders. She paused for a moment in front of the mirror and flipped her hair - it fell around her face in soft waves, so different from her usual short and choppy look. She touched up her lipstick and then headed for the door, straightening her dress along the way. When she opened the door again, Kakashi was still standing there, his bare face pulled into an unexpected smile. Sakura felt her breath catch again - he was so handsome, she wondered if she would ever get used to seeing him without his mask. Just wait until she told Naruto about this!

He offered his arm again, and this time she took it, linking arms just as a servant came up behind them. The boy bowed and motioned for them to follow. "Dinner is being served, I will take you to the dining hall," he said politely, then started off.

Sakura fell into step next to Kakashi, walking casually down the hallway, their shoulders and hips brushing as they walked. Sakura couldn't figure out if he was doing it on purpose of just acting his part, the motion was so natural.