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Three Sheets to the Wind

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Uzumaki Naruto didn't have a good relationship with alcohol. Even with the Kyuubi's chakra to help him, most nights he went out he ended up on a sidewalk with blown eyes and a rambling mind; it's not like he exaggerated, even if it was practically written in his shinobi CV that more was better, but he just couldn't handle it.

Naruto wasn't a quiet drunk - not that anyone expected differently. If he wasn't silent by the norm, none of his friends (and fellow villagers) thought it to be reasonable for him to keep to himself when drunk.

After two beers and a few sips here and there of dry vodka, Naruto was positive he had crossed the fine line between buzzed and shitfaced.

He was also sure there were two blurry Yamanaka Inos looking at him, eyes reprimanding and arms crossed. Naruto thought one was enough of a menace, but apparently two were just about a kick straight to hell.

He tried to follow her with his sky blue eyes, a gift from his father, but really; Ino kept moving and blurring in her actions and Naruto was about to throw up on her nice outfit.

Which, was really nice.

She wore a nice top, the color that tell-tale purple that always made her pupilless eyes stand out, and a mini-skirt that made her legs look way too long.

Had they always been this long?

If Naruto squeezed his eyes, he could almost see the scar on her left knee - the one she got on a joint mission with him and Neji in Suna.

Maybe, just maybe, Naruto was seeing things.

And maybe not.

His throat went dry and he could swear there was a throbbing near his crotch, his mind running on many different scenarios Ino could be the protagonist of. Or just a side character, really, Naruto didn't care.

Then he saw her face, a pretty blush coloring her high cheeks and straight nose and creepy eyes twinkling (he could swear they were!) under the pub's yellow light.

He swallowed, his tongue automatically going out to wet his lips... and maybe he was more drunk than he thought he was.




Haruno Sakura was, relatively, a quiet drunk type of person. She didn't get drunk easily, her reflexes always purging the alcohol out before she crossed the line.

But then she had been pretty much out of chakra, after spending so many hours in the Konoha General Hospital running check-ups and operating on a group of unlucky jounins.

Then maybe, just maybe (because Sakura didn't want to breach the point of certainty; there wasn't much you could get out with when you were a medic, after all), she could be excused for the actions of the night.

Because it was new year's eve, the Hyuuga looked particularly sexy in that formal kimono and, god, Sakura hadn't had any action in a while. And the one during missions didn't count because... well, that was work.

Hyuuga Hinata looked positively hot in her pretty, emerald green kimono (or was it a yukata? Sakura didn't really know) and the pinkette's throat was suddenly dry, fists clenched at her side as her eyes, as vibrant as the formal wear Hinata was sporting, took in the heiress' pretty face.

Sakura had never noticed, too preoccupied with her work at the hospital and the apprenticeship under the Hokage, but Hinata was pretty; her long dark hair were flowing freely on her chest and her big, lavender eyes were blown wide as she looked at her.

Was she drunk? Sakura couldn't tell in her state, but her cheeks were stained red and her balance seemed to be missing.

Would it be weird if Sakura offered to take her home? The pinkette remembered her best friend's voice, telling her that girls shouldn't be with girls, but Hinata looked really really beautiful and like she needed help... Sakura's whole career was based on giving help.

It's not wrong, she thought. She was going to offer her friend company, keep her steady on her two feet (even if her own were failing her right now) and then she would retire in her own home. Possibly with an empty bucket by her bed.

Yeah, Sakura thought, that sounded like a solid plan.





The headache he had woken up with was crazy. Uchiha Sasuke had gone through a lot of things in his life - apprenticeship under Orochimaru, the death of his brother, the war... somehow, none of those could top the killer pain in his temples he had opened his eyes to.

He scrunched his nose, his arm instantly going up to cover his eyes as his left hand searched for the bottle of water he always kept on his bedstand... except it wasn't there.

Sasuke, under any circumstances, did not panic. He was known for his steely mind, cold eyes matching the logical train of thoughts of a soldier who had seen and done too much - but that morning, in a bedroom that wasn't his and with a breathing, living body right by his side, Sasuke panicked.

His chest clenched and his eyelids slid shut, almost willing whatever was sleeping next to him to just... go out of existence.

Since his return to the Leaf, his interactions had been limited to his loyal genin team. Sakura, Naruto and him had been practically attached by the hip - so much that if they couldn't pinpoint the other's chakra, then they could recognize their breathing pattern.

The one, warm body laying next to him was neither of his teammates. In fact, Sasuke had spent enough time with his friends to know that neither of them smelled of stale sweat and... rosemary?

Sasuke wasn't sure, not completely at least, but he knew that the person beside him was friendly. They had to be, being in the Leaf and all.

Plus, even if Sasuke had been drunk as shit last night (it was all Sakura's fault and the fact that she couldn't mix a drink to save her life!), he probably wouldn't have gone home with a complete stranger.

That only opened the way to another question. If this wasn't a stranger, then who was it that was sleeping next to him?

Sasuke was, dare he say it, scared to open his eyes.

And was... was he naked? Sasuke felt the strange need to cry and scream in his (not his?) pillow.

"Sasuke-san, are you okay?" groaned the... thing by his side. Sasuke craned his neck, shoulders stiff with anticipation and... promptly stopped breathing.

Round brown eyes, tanned skin and a bowl cut were all he needed to see before Sasuke executed the fastest shunshin he could.

He was sure his cousin would've been proud.






January 1st was a calm day for Konohagakure. 
Families tended to keep at home, celebrating the new year with those they held close and luxury foods on the table; most shinobis were either out on missions or too drunk to scout the village's streets before the late afternoon.

Since Sasuke's return two years before, Team 7 had made it an habit of meeting at their training ground in the morning and spend their day together. None of them had any family left but each other, so it was only reasonable to them.

This year was no different.

Sakura and Naruto were laying on the fresh grass, eyes closed and pained expressions on their face.

Neither of them spoke much about the night before, but Sakura had the nasty feeling tugging in her gut that something of colossal importance had happened. Naruro kept chewing at his nails, his long fingers playing an uneven rhythm on his tummy.

"Stop that!" growled the pinkette, a green hue covered hand already sending medical chakra to her throbbing temples. Naruto had to be the most annoying person on Earth when drunk, but that was easily topped by his hangover counterside. He got whiny, twitchy and smelled worse than usual - which, was a lot.

Naruto's movements stilled just enough for Sakura to finish her improptu healing on herself, but then his knee twitched and he started rolling his right ankle over and over.

The only female of Team 7 dragged herself up in a sitting position, eyes shining with promised pain, when it happened.

With an almost soundless puff!, their missing comrade appeared in the field. Naked, except for the pillow covering his front.

If Sakura had still been twelve, infatuated and stupid she probably would've died then and there. Naruto croaked a sound between disbelief and laughter, her own snort accompanying it in the silence of the early morning.

"What happened to you?" asked the blond, trying (and failing) to suppress a grin.

Sasuke, on his part, was as dizzed as they were by the sight he has stumbled upon.

He had never seen Sakura - clean-freak, powerful medic and suffering from OCD Sakura - look this unkempt. There were leaves knotted in her hair, what looked like dried vomit and blood on the clothes from the night before and hickeys coloring her whole arm.

Naruto wasn't much different; he had lost his jacket somewhere, but his black tshirt had been ripped severely since what felt like both a few hours and lifetimes before, he was missing a lock of the blond fringe he had taken to sporting lately and he had only one shoe on.

"No, what happened to you?" he redirected the question, black eyes open wide.

Sakura and Naruto looked at each other, before gazing at themselves, and they both let a shrilly scream out.

Sasuke was never going to drink something Sakura mixed again.