Sakura wakes to a thump somewhere in the vicinity of her feet, and the long, low groan of a hungover idiot.
It’s better than an alarm clock, really. Or, well, worse since she can’t just smash Youbirin in one hit to shut him up.
“Sakura,” Youbirin says, voice muffled by the blanket she’s kicked off in her sleep and the way he’s practically kissing the floor, “Sakura, ow. Sakura… how? Why, Sakura? Why this?” He asks, as betrayed as a muddled-minded moron like him can be.
She gives a groan of her own, pressing it into the pillow, before kicking in his direction. She’s not augmenting it–it’s too early for that shit–but she feels a connect and Youbirin curls away with another pained moan.
“Go away. I’m not on shift and it’s before noon, you’re breaking the rules.”
Youbirin crawls his way up the bed, falling obnoxiously on top of her. It’s far from sexual–only barely affectionate in nature, given that clearly he’s trying to smother the life out of her.
“Get off me,” she wheezes as her lungs deflate beneath his weight, “Go away,” she repeats.
“But Sakura, this is my room,” the big baby whines, and then completely ignores her by wrapping himself around her.
She grumbles, but lets him, because he’s warm and she’s far too lazy to pull the blanket back.
They quiet back down, breathes coming in deeper and slower, the two of them shifting into a more comfortable position–Youbirin less of a big spoon and more of a giant koala with Sakura as the small and brightly colored tree.
“Wake me up before noon again and you’re dead,” she murmurs, tucking a cold nose to the collar of his pajamas.
Obediently, he recites, “After noon, coffee, got it,” before the both of them drift back into sleep.
Of course, they’re both woken up less than thirty minutes later when Jiro lands on top of them, climbing through the window in yesterday’s rumpled clothing to escape his latest one night stand.
Shishou, spotting the three of them and their less than impressive states, laughs–loud and long and entirely unnecessary.
“Nngh,” Youbirin grunts, looks two seconds away from dropping to the ground and curling into a ball in defeat.
Jiro, in contrast, tries and fails to respond with a smile of his own. It wouldn’t have worked even without the awkward lean he’s adopted where Sakura propped him against the wall.
Apparently, last night’s conquest–while easily impressed by medic-nin–was less than impressed by Jiro’s less than graceful “this was fun, goodbye forever” spiel. And, apparently, a trainee in T&I.
Sakura would like to think she doesn’t look as awful as her genin teammates, but she certainly feels as miserable, and she knows for the sheer travesty of her outfit, she’s going to have to avoid Ino today.
Shizune-senpai looks unfairly embarrassed by them: as if she never had to deal with Shishou in worse condition, and during her reign as Hokage at that!
When Shishou finally stops laughing, wiping a tear away from her right eye, she turns around and gestures imperiously for them all to follow.
Even in their disastrous states, the three–four, actually, including Shizune-senpai–hop to attention immediately. They may be embarrassments as people, but there’s no way they’re anything less than the best when it comes to being medic-nin.
A/N: Lalala, went out again to a swanky restaurant where we got soooo much free stuff because my sister’s got connections! Also, more drinking (well, less than yesterday, but still more than my usual which is zero)