Notes: This is dedicated to my truly wonderful friend, music1462, for she had been the first to review on OOFAS:R (which I plan on renaming) and is also a loyal reviewer who is practically always there to favorite and review anything I can cook up. And because she says the sweetest of shit, for real. I'd like to make it clear, also, that this one-shot is actually dedicated to all of my fans. I don't care if you reviewed but didn't fav+, or if you fav+ed but didn't review; you read what I wrote, and you liked it—as silly as it sounds, even when people alert my work it inspires me. You all motivate me to keep going.
So, thanks. Thanks, a lot. Seriously. Y'all rock.

Just to keep you all updated, my cousin was released because they had nothing against him other than one big fat lie. And life is pretty good right now, in general. I just got a Macbook Pro—SO HARDCORE—and I think I'm enjoying its components a bit too much. And I've also just lost my necklace. My necklace, is like, my fucking life. That bitch has been with me through everything, as my watch has, and it holds so many things that are dear to me (literally and figuratively.) I forgot it at the dance hall where I take dabka, and even though none of you know me in real life, do me a favor and tell me if you find it. It's quite easy to distinguish it from other random crap; it has a shit-load of stuff that you'd be surprised can be on a necklace.

I think I've ranted enough. If you got up to here, you're one bored bitch. But I still love you.

Disclaimer: Must you rub it in? Do you enjoy seeing that heart breaking grimace on my face? Oh, you do? Well, then. Fuck you, dearest. Fuck. you.

p.s i love you idiots. lessthanthree

A lot of weird things happen to Sakura.

Most people brushed off the stories of her experience, and those who actually believed her dismissed it as some kind meant-to-be shit just because she had pink hair. Personally, though, Sakura knew she was cursed.

Once, when she had been casually stocking the shelves of the pharmacy she worked at, a young kid barged inside, swiped a handful of toothbrushes and cleansing lotions, then ran out like a bat out of hell. That would seem a bit common, but wait till I tell you. Not two minutes later did the child return, dumping everything he had stolen onto the ground as he cried hysterically. You'd expect this to be rational, as he was possibly overwhelmed by the guilt, but wait till I tell you. The boy didn't sob wordlessly; in fact, he was talking so quickly it was hard for Sakura to determine whether the kid was even crying to begin with. Not understanding a single word, she leaned down to try and catch what he was saying. And once she succeeded in mentally separating the crying from the speaking, she realized why it had taken her so long to comprehend the garbled excuses for speech.

The kid was listing the elements of the Periodic Table, along with the atomic numbers and their ionization energies. Sometimes he forgot the numbers, and so would blubber and spit, making noises that suspiciously sounded like farting. After reaching Silicon—he skipped the transition elements, the pinkette noted—the child kicked her in the knee, grabbed the nearest object he could reach, and sped off again.

No less than five minutes later did Sakura, quiet and very confused, finally register what had just happened. Deciding it would be a waste to try and catch him now, she began to silently put away the messily strewn items, glad none of the creams had spilled onto the carpet. Only two hours later, when she had finished her shift and was walking to her car, did she realize that the bloody mongrel had stolen her keys.

Another time included a woman who—Sakura would bet on her life she was a porn-star—strode past her apartment door. Repeatedly. The woman would lean down and jiggle unnecessarily at random moments as she crooned and called for something. Soon—but not soon enough for Sakura—a tiny, mostly hairless dog crashed into Sakura's window brutally. After numerous failed tries, the creature began to yip manically. Truly afraid for her life, the doctor-in-training remained rooted to her spot, standing behind the old couch she owned, as the stranger burst into her door and took on a purposeful march towards the window. The bikini-clad woman broke the window using her hand-sized purse of what seemed to be made of the skin of Chuck fucking Norris, pulled the dog into her arms, then left the apartment spitting at Sakura's feet the entire way.

Sakura could go on and on. These have become natural, almost like a routine; in fact, it was considered to be out of the ordinary if something out of the ordinary didn't decide to back-hand her across the face. Due to this, Sakura Haruno now carried pepper spray and a duck caller (that was in case she needed back-up) in her over-sized purse no matter where she was going.

On this particularly sunny day, she had already been followed by a disgustingly old man who was wholly convinced that she was his long-lost love, Kurumi. For the better part of her morning, Hisayuki was hot on her heels, following her around town, stubbornly demanding her to apologize for leaving nothing but a thong behind seventy-five years ago.

Sakura finally lost him, and so marked the crazy part of her day off of her check-list. Going over what else she had to do that day in her head, she decided to with-draw some money from the ATM before going grocery shopping. Parking her car (a gift from Sasuke after he set eyes on her beat-up, key-less ride—she had been forced to hot-wire her car to start it for a few months after the kid-incident) in front of an ATM machine that was just ten feet from the bank, she opened the door and got out. And then she went back in to get her purse. Sitting in the driver's seat rummaging through her items as she searched desperately for her credit card, she did not notice the sudden evacuation of people from the bank, nor the shrieks and yells from within it.

Huffing at the fact that she could not find that damn slab of godforsaken plastic, Sakura recalled the incident with a rabid cat that was intent on mauling her face, where she had accidentally emptied the contents of her bag in the back-seat. Tossing the bag aside, she clambered into the back of her car, her hands running along the lining of the cushions and over the floor in search of the card. Still unaware of the chaos behind her inside the bank, she trilled when her fingers felt the cool surface of the card. She wrapped her fingers around it and tugged. She hissed in pain; metal bars were enclosing her hand, and there was no way her hand would come out if it remained fisted around the card.

Not one to be deterred so easily, the twenty-three year old tried to remember the sparse classes of ballet her mother had forced upon her long ago, hoping that the flexibility the instructor had manically focused on would aid her in this situation. And at that moment, crouched in the small space between the back seat and the front seat, with her hand encased in a metal trap of doom, did Sakura distantly hear warning bells sound in her ears. An alarm was going off, and she wasn't too sure that it was just her brain pulling a joke.

Glancing out of the window of the back seat with difficulty, Sakura saw a blaring red light and herds of terrified people all surrounding the bank. The obviously just-robbed bank. And this was when Sakura heard the car door she had forgotten open slam shut, heard the car's engine rev as someone turned the keys she had left in the ignition switch, and felt a sudden lurch in her stomach when the car sped off at the speed of light.

33B

"Shit," he ground out, "oh man, oh fuck, oh shit—shit—shit." This was bad. Really bad. But despite the fear—which wasn't all that much for someone who had just attempted to rob a bank—he was angry. So angry that he took out his rage on the car he was driving, the gas pedal barely touching the floor as he swerved around obstacles in his way. Subconsciously, he noted how swift the car moved and the efficiency of it over-all. What car had he stolen? Well, whatever it was, he was keeping it.

His line of vision was then attracted to a bright mess of colors to his right, and he deemed himself far way enough from the crime scene to take a look. Splayed next to him in the passenger seat was a very large purse; perhaps large enough to fit a new-born baby comfortably. Keys, papers and random items of what seemed to be junk were spilling out of the unzipped opening, rolling around the cushion and the floor.

So this seemed to be the car of a woman. She was probably crying over the loss of the (amazing) car and her pocket-book somewhere near the bank right now. He gazed at himself through the rear-view mirror, smirking devilishly as he thought about what someone would offer him to have their car and personal belongings back.

And then he saw it.

The car suddenly reeled to a stop, the wheels screeching in protest to the unexpected halt. He had driven so far out of the city that the road was deserted, save for some trees and a crooked street sign. He pivoted abruptly in his seat, to face nothing other than a woman.

She had long, ruffled pink hair and creamy skin. He couldn't see much past her ribs since she was mostly hidden by the useless compartment between the passenger and driver seats. But what caught his attention the most, were her eyes. They were mainly bottle green, but there were specks of other shades of green and the smallest hint of blue near the pupil. And they were as wide as dinner plates, focused solely on his own violet irises. She was obviously going through shock, as her stare was unwavering and her pale pink lips were slightly parted.

Finally blinking and breaking the staring game they had shared momentarily, the man glared at her fiercely. "Who the fuck are you? And what do you think you're doing here?"

But he soon learned that this particularly soft looking girl was much more than what met the eye, "Excuse me? This is my fucking car. Now I demand you to leave at—ow!" She had let go of the card sometime after he had unknowingly abducted her, and had tried to raise herself to her full height—which wasn't much, mind you—only to bang her head against the roof of the car brutally.

The fuming pinkette was now cradling her injured head, and fell to sit on the back seat cushions as tears of pain, confusion, and utter fear pooled in her eyes. Determinedly wiping them away, she swallowed down her fear for the moment and shoved herself against the stranger with all her might. She didn't really know what she expected; she was barely 5'3" and he was at least six foot with quite the build. They squabbled for a bit as she waved her arms around, pounding her fists into everything and anything she could reach, before he decided enough was enough and picked her up.

The robber maneuvered her up and onto his lap before gripping her forearms firmly. She tossed her head back, throwing the waterfall of pink tresses behind her so she could glare at him properly, "let me go!" she shrieked. She squirmed and struggled, but it proved to be no use. He bit out orders for her to calm down and quit moving, but she paid him no heed and continued the futile attempts at getting out of his grip.

Frustrated and at wit's end, he did the first thing that he could think of. He pulled his knees apart to form a kind of gap between them in which she fell through. The grip he had on her moved to her upper arms as he kept her from falling completely to the ground. The woman sputtered in surprise as she hung herself by her knees which were clamped around his thighs, the steering wheel just behind her head.

"Now," he began in a low voice that had shivers running down her body as she abruptly realized just what she was dealing with. "I'm going to ask the questions, and if you answer like a good girl I won't hurt you, got it?" The trapped pinkette opened her mouth to defy him, but he tightened the hold he had on her as a warning, effectively closing her inviting lips. She looked away and swallowed thickly.

A warm hand cupped the left side of her neck, effectively surprising her and forcing her to meet his eyes sharply. Goosebumps covered her flesh. He was staring at her intently, and with the look he was giving her, she truly believed he would hurt her if she didn't comply. Slowly, she nodded, "fine."

The thumb under her jaw rubbed against her skin for a moment as he contemplated her one-worded answer.

Suddenly, he lifted her and brought his knees together so she could rest on them with her legs bent on either side of him. The hand on her arm loosened considerably but his right hand remained at her neck.

"What's your name?" he was significantly calmer than a few seconds ago, and she noticed that he had relaxed into her car-seat. His thumb pressed into the column of her throat gently, as to remind her of their agreement.

She took in a deep breath to calm her frazzled nerves, "Sa-Sakura. Sakura Haruno." He hummed in response. Her eyes darted to the passenger seat purposefully before turning to look him in the eyes again, "If I could just—"

"No, you'll stay here for now." His left hand which had gradually slipped down the expanse of her arm now lay on her thigh. Sakura bit her lip hesitantly, now afraid with every fiber of her being. This man was dangerous. And she'd do well to remember that.

"And where do you live, Sakura?" he questioned casually, testing how her name tasted on his lips. He quite liked it, he decided. She began to shiver, and he concluded that the adrenaline had worn off. He smirked inwardly at the fear present in her eyes. She mumbled something desultorily in response, and he had actually understood her rambling. But he decided to tease her.

"What was that, Sakura?" he asked with amusement lacing his tone. He leaned towards her, pretending to do so in order to hear her. He reveled in how she moved back as much as possible, until her back hit the wheel—and he followed her the entire way. The hand that had been resting at her neck slipped down to her elbow as he closed the distance between his lips and her left ear, "I didn't quite catch that."

He felt her shudder beneath him in reaction to his sultry whisper, and something within him growled appreciatively.

"I-I said," her voice came out high and squeaky, so she cleared her throat and tried again, "I said that I live in an a-apartment complex between Nise street and Tekiya drive." He hummed again, but this time he made sure that she was pressed against him so she could feel it vibrating in his chest. She clutched his right bicep in response.

"Tell me, Sakura, do you have a job?" His hands began to caress her gently, and she stiffened with fear. Despite that, she nodded meekly and told him she worked at a small pharmacy near her apartment. He smirked at this information. The apartment complex she had mentioned was a run-down building, and her occupation wasn't all that important. It seemed that no one would notice she was gone for a few days. But...what of the car? She surely wouldn't be able to afford it with a job like that.

He didn't suspect her of lying; she was petrified and was quite aware he had the upper hand. Anyways, he had always been good at reading people. Suddenly tired, he sighed into her neck. He rested his forehead against her shoulder and murmured mostly to himself, "what am I going to do with you?"

She held on to his arm a bit tighter and he felt her fidget around with her legs as they kept brushing against his own, "you could let me go,"she suggested weakly, her fear of him slipping into her voice.

He chuckled lowly, making her even more nervous.

"Please," her voice quivered significantly, "please just let me go." He ignored her and kept his face down. "I won't tell anyone that I saw you. Or that you stole my car...I swear. Just—just please. I'm begging you." She was obviously on the brink of tears, "I don't even know your name! There's no way I'd—!" His left hand had reached up to silence her.

"Suigetsu," he mumbled into her skin. He lifted his head to stare into her eyes, "My name's Suigetsu. And even if you didn't say a word, the security cameras would have caught me taking your car—with you in it—on tape."

Her mouth open and closed soundlessly, then she took in a deep breath to try and calm herself. It wasn't working if the tears in her eyes were anything to go by, "what's going to happen to me?" she whispered brokenly.

Suigetsu chuckled humorlessly, his lips pulled into a lopsided smirk that showed off his signature sharp tooth, as he toyed with her hair. The criminal shrugged a shoulder lazily, "we'll just have to see."

33B

Sakura sat in the passenger seat with the seat-belt strapped tightly around her torso, her hair tangled and knotted behind her. Her startlingly green eyes kept switching between the road in front of them and the man driving her car. More on the latter than the former.

His hair was a pale blond, almost white, with what seemed to be tints of blue near the edges. The tips of his strange hair—though she wasn't one to talk—barely brushed the bottom of his jaw. During their staring game that had taken place when he had first noticed her presence, she had been mesmerized by his eyes.

They were an enchanting violet with darker purples (maybe it was black?) ringed around them. He was more lean then muscular, but not by much. She had yet to see him at his full height, but she found herself hoping it never got to that point.

She was scared out of her mind; never had one of her crazy adventures ever put her life in mortal danger (except for that one time with the drunk farmer—but even then, Naruto had been with her to help her sorry ass). But now she was all alone. With a stranger. A very dangerous stranger who had just robbed a bank. Distantly, Sakura thought of bank robberies.

...didn't you usually need a gun? Her heart beat even faster, and it wasn't just because of the squeamish speed said robber was currently forcing the car at. The car was swerving left and right, tossing her frail body this way and that at every sharp turn.

Taking in a shaky breath, Sakura tried to calm herself. She tried counting sheep. One by one, the fluffy creatures hopped over the fence. Suddenly, their white coats faded into green, and mug-shots of men began to draw themselves against their papery backgrounds. One hundred dollars, two hundred dollars, three—wait, what? And then it hit her like a crate of flamingos. Where was the money he stole?

Her eyes snapped to his form, tense and serious behind the wheel. She swallowed thickly and licked her lips hesitantly, "Suigetsu?" she croaked.

He obviously hadn't expected her to speak and he jumped the tiniest bit before sliding his gaze to look at her—she held herself back from chastising him for not paying attention to the road. He raised an eyebrow questioningly.

She swallowed again as her fingers fiddled with the hem of her pale blue tank-top, "W-what...what happened back at the—ahem—at the, uh, at the bank?" Oh, god, open mouth insert foot, please.

He sighed and looked back at the road, now with a hard frown adorning his handsome features. They remained silent for a long time, but she didn't ask again. She was actually relieved that he hadn't hurt her for asking such a thing.

33B

"Do you know where we are?" His voice was deep and low and his eyes heavily lidded, as though tired. She didn't blame him; she was exhausted as well. They had been driving for hours now and it had begun to darken as the sun sunk lower behind the low, unfamiliar buildings now surrounding them. Slowly, she shook her head. He nodded, softly muttering "good" under his breath as he did so.

The ride had been mostly silent, and it was killing her. Sakura was so afraid that she had already swallowed the urge to vomit at least seven times. Before this sudden question, her nerves had been coiled anxiously, awaiting any sign to tell her whether she was in trouble or not. She wondered if he was going to hurt her.

No, he would've done so when they were on the border between Konoha and Suna; no one spent longer than two seconds in that desert-like area. Was he going to just drop her off, then? Was that why he wanted her to be lost? To buy himself time to haul ass while she tried to figure out where the heck she even was? But then the car unexpectedly swerved to the right, and suddenly there were in a significantly more run-down area than before. Shady people were chilling on the streets and not so appropriate advertising neon lights flickered on and off.

The pinkette then came to a conclusion; this was the red-light district of whatever-the-hell-town they were in. He was going to abandon her here? She felt the tips of her fingers shake again. She'd die in an environment like this all alone. Sakura looked over to him and did her best to mask her fear, "Suigetsu, wh—what's happening?" She pinched herself after asking, for her voice had cracked noticeably in the middle. He sighed long and slow but said nothing. The criminal parked the car just to the side of a less than impressive pharmacy.

Her heart began to hammer viciously against her chest and she suddenly couldn't breathe. He removed himself from the car, the slap of his shoes against asphalt brutally loud to her numb brain, then walked around to her side of the car. After opening the car-door, he leaned down to her seated level. Startled at the close proximity as his lips brushed the shell of her ear, she was frozen to her spot when he lowly whispered, "do us both a favor and be good, okay?" He licked his lips and his tongue accidentally made contact with her skin but she could only emit a soft gasp.

"I'm going to see what I can do for you." His hand gripped her arm and heaved her body from the vehicle. Hope began to rush through her, and though she didn't completely understand what he was implying, her tiny body was overcome by the urge to embrace him. The tight hold she had on him surprised them both.

Instead of pushing her away like she expected once what she had done registered in her mind, he awkwardly patted her on the shoulder. He flashed her an unreadable look with his bottom lip caught between his teeth and his eyes boring into her own. "Just don't expect too much."

33B

Suigetsu Hozuki was plenty bad guy. He'd robbed facilities and hurt a whole lot of people. He's smuggled and tried anything he could get his more than capable hands on. But in his history of hostages, he had never had such...feelings for someone he was supposed to get rid of. Don't get him wrong, he hadn't loaded his gun this morning to hunt down this particular girl, but he had ended up with her anyway.

The robbery had gone ridiculously wrong, and things hadn't gone as planned. Suigetsu didn't do well under pressure, which was why he was at a bit of a stump. He had no idea what he was doing or what he should do. Usually, his first course of action would have been to get rid of her the second she revealed herself, but for some unfathomable reason he found that his hand would not completely wrap around her neck, neither would his fingers grope for the cool metal of his gun.

There was something about her—maybe it was everything! The texture of her hair, the vibrancy of her eyes, the smoothness of her skin, the way she shivered like a frightened bunny in his lap, the sound of her voice...what was he thinking?

Just because he couldn't kill her didn't mean no one else would. But could he handle that?

Wait—What? He didn't even know her! She was the victim! He kidnapped her, for god's sake! Why was he complicating everything? Just kill her yourself and get it done with, you soft fool. But then he felt her small hand fist into the fabric of his shirt. Shocked, he stopped the walk he had started in the direction of the drug-store. She stopped as well. The handsome delinquent risked looking behind him to meet her gaze. Her frightened but somehow trusting gaze. And he realized, with an out of character fear pooling in his stomach, that it didn't matter that he had stumbled upon her in a car he had stolen mere hours previous to this.

There was absolutely no snowball in fucking hell that he would let any harm befall her.