Chapter Text
Sakura doesn’t think she should have lived past twelve.
Intelligence will only get you so far when your enemy can move quicker than sound while your prepubescent limbs tremble like a leaf against a sudden breeze.
She never stood a chance. Not with the odds stacked against her.
Those odds being her teammates.
She wonders if this bitter pill will ever make it past her throat, or if it will continue to poison her mouth and coat her tongue in venom she can’t ever seem to spit out.
She doesn’t hate them, really. Naruto and Sasuke.
But there was a point when she did. And there are moments when she still does. It comes in ebbs and flows. When she has to take the longer route just to avoid walking past that bench. When she takes her seat at Ichiraku’s, remembering the times when she was the only one there.
She recalls sitting at her desk in her parents’ home, two separate pieces of parchment laid out in front of her, her hand moving back and forth between them. One for Naruto. And the other for Sasuke. One was received. The other she kept hidden in a shoebox, tucked beneath her bed with the rest of her unsent feelings.
When Sakura moved out, she grabbed that box and stuffed it into the trash.
Good riddance, she thought victoriously.
That feeling died rather quickly later at night, when she was abruptly shaken by the sounds of laughter and birds. Lots of them. She wasn’t a stranger to this routine, so she had developed a pretty efficient method of coping. Sitting and staring blankly at the wall until the sunlight peeked through her blinds.
It’s quite common amongst shinobi. Ino says to talk about it with someone. Sakura can’t find anyone she wants to share this with. Two names come to mind, but her struggles pale so much in comparison to theirs that it wasn’t even worth mentioning. After all, what did her loneliness matter in the grand scheme of things?
Nothing.
Sakura was never stupid. She could recognize being outclassed; she’d spotted it during their first real mission as a team. Back when she was so unnecessary she could have fallen asleep in the middle of battle and the outcome would have remained the same. Sakura tries not to dwell on the past too much these days.
She’s an accomplished kunoichi now. A medic. That’s all that matters.
Of course it actually doesn’t matter when Naruto or Sasuke are brought into the picture, what with their fancy chakra and larger-than-life destinies.
She tries not to be jealous. Comparison is the thief of joy, and Sakura believes she’s worthy of joy in her life, if only a little. But denying it would be delusional, and she refuses to add that to her list. Yes, she was jealous. And bitter. And angry. And hurt. So very hurt—but not enough for it to be considered an issue.
Everytime Naruto wraps his arm around Sasuke’s shoulders and calls him his best friend, Sakura feels sick to her stomach. Of all the people in her life, she never expected Naruto to betray her. Because it was a betrayal, how casually Naruto forgave Sasuke for his crimes.
He tried to kill you, she wants to shout. He tried to kill me too.
Perhaps if she were his sole victim, Sakura could find it in her heart to look past the man’s actions and give him a second chance. But she can’t shake the memories of Naruto battered and unconscious in the hospital after their first fight. She can’t forget the pain etched onto his face after they failed to retrieve their teammate yet again. And she especially can’t forget the bloody stump where his arm used to be. Where a prosthetic now hangs instead of flesh.
Each recollection sends a fresh new wave of anger through her and she wants to curse, and scream, and punch, and claw at Sasuke until he feels the pain he put them through.
So why, in Kami’s name, does Naruto not reciprocate this feeling? How can he so casually crack jokes with Sasuke after he tried to murder her? After he left her stranded on that cold bench and crushed her heart beneath his foot for the nth time.
It’s insulting. So much so that Sakura never wants to speak to either of them ever again.
She thought she was their friend. But Naruto’s best friend has always, and will always be Sasuke. And Sasuke–
Sakura doesn’t attempt to dissect his personal relationships these days. But she’s quite certain she is not included in those he holds dear.
Ever since the war, she’s made an effort to stay clear of him. It wouldn’t be hard, if not for fucking Naruto wrecking her sanity yet again in the name of Sasuke, Sasuke, Sasuke—
“Oh come on! You’re always working!”
“I’m sorry, Naruto, but I’m really tired. Maybe some other day,” she lies, rubbing her eyes for emphasis.
Naruto doesn’t look convinced. And for once, he finally has the balls to call her out on her bullshit.
“Bullshit.”
Literally.
Sakura raises a brow. Naruto folds his arms. This is their version of fighting, and it feels more elegant than swinging fists. If there’s one area where Sakura thinks she has Sasuke beat, it’s probably this one.
“Why do you even want me there so bad?” she asks carefully. “Sasuke is there.”
A dangerous line to tread. One wrong move and she’s over the edge. But Sakura became a master at keeping her emotions guarded and she will not slip.
Naruto has the decency to look appalled.
“What are you talking about, Sakura-chan? We miss you. It’s been so long since the three of us have been together.”
He wiggles his brows like a conman trying to make a sale.
“It’ll be like old times again.”
And just like that, Sakura is put off.
How can she explain to Naruto that she would rather die than go back to the old times? The old times where she was reminded at every turn how expendable her life was. That her body was something to be thrown in front of danger so his could keep running.
Sakura’s mouth twists into a grimace.
“I’ll pass. Maybe next time.”
She shuffles the papers on her desk, the universal gesture for I’m busy, now leave. But of course, Naruto had never been good at picking those up. He slams his palms down on her desk. They make a sharp cracking sound, like bones snapping, and Sakura is momentarily paralyzed by his outburst.
“That’s a lie,” he says. “You always say that, and then you make up some excuse not to show up. What’s going on with you? Just talk to us. We can help.”
We.
Sakura grinds her molars.
Maybe on a really rough day she’ll ask for Naruto’s help. But for as long as her heart continues to beat, she will never ever ask anything from Sasuke again. She had tried before. She had asked for his affection. His friendship. Later, his mercy.
And without fail, he denied her every time.
Maybe it’s time to stop asking.
“...I’ll join you,” she says after a breath. Her heart jumps once. “But just this once, okay? And you can’t guilt me about being busy anymore!”
“Yeah yeah whatever.” He rounds the table and bundles her into a quick hug. Sakura’s feet lift slightly off the floor as she thrashes. “You’re the best Sakura-chan!”
"Just this once!" she yells.
Even she doesn’t believe her own words. She’s too much of a pushover these days, and Naruto has no shame in exploiting that. If Sakura wasn’t so tired, she’d probably pick a fight with him about it.
She’s the last one to arrive, as it turns out, since Kakashi was apparently ‘busy’ with Hokage duties now. Curse him. Sakura swallows the lump in her throat as she scans the shop for her former teammates. The black spikes on Sasuke’s head stand out amidst a sea of dullness, drawing her attention like a magnet. He looks ridiculously out of place. Too imposing, too mythical to be sitting on the worn out stool of Ichiraku’s, drumming his fingers against the chipped red counter. He looks uninterested, features smoothed into a blank canvas.
That is until his head snaps right in her direction, zeroing in on her. She can’t help but wonder if he’d sensed her. Sakura panics.
Don’t look directly into his eyes!
She fails spectacularly. Purple and black lock her in place, stripping away her autonomy.
Leave. Just turn around and leave.
She fails that too, because while she wasted time rooted to the floor, Naruto had also spotted her and well it’s too late now. They saved a seat for her in the middle. Sakura sits on the edge, as far away from Sasuke as possible. She wishes he would do the same to maximize the distance, but unlike her, he is unaffected by her presence. Sasuke is unapologetic in the space he’s taking up, and oblivious or uncaring to her current dismay.
“Sakura-chan, you had us worried! I thought you were gonna flake again,” Naruto exclaims, pulling her into a side hug. Her mouth pulls into a tight smile. What else is there to say? She picks at the skin around her nails. They are brittle and weak from continuous sterilization. Perhaps she needs a break from the hospital to take care of them. Would that make her vain and selfish?
Their food arrives; three steaming bowls of hot ramen.
Three?
Sakura wonders which of them ordered for her. She glances down into the warm broth and egg and green onions on top. It was how she ordered it as a genin, when she could only afford the cheapest toppings.
Naruto hands her his chopsticks and she peels the wrapper and snaps them. Before he received his prosthetic, she took on the role of his designated chopstick snapper. She thinks it’s fun, and Sakura will take any opportunity to feel useful. It’s sweet that he lets her continue the tradition.
"Thank you,” Naruto says.
The moment hangs in the air, as Sakura suddenly becomes hyper aware of Sasuke’s presence and his missing arm. Out of the corner of her vision, she spots his still-wrapped chopsticks. Her fingers twitch.
He did this to himself, she scowls.
Wordlessly, she quickly reaches over to grab them, tearing them free, and snapping them smoothly in half. There’s a brief moment of awkwardness where no one says anything.
Sasuke blinks at her in mild surprise before numbly plucking the chopsticks out of her fingers. He ducks his head respectively.
“Thank you,” he mumbles.
The lump in her throat works its way down. She remains quiet for the rest of the night, sinking deeper into her chair as if she could slink right off and slither out the door.
Naruto said something that caused a quiet laugh from Sasuke. The sound unnerves her.
When it came time to pay the bill, Sakura quickly slammed her price down.
“I’m gonna go,” she said, swiftly grabbing her bag and slinging it over her shoulder. “Have a good night.”
“What!” Naruto exclaimed. “It’s not safe to walk back alone this late.”
And then, without missing a beat-
“I’ll walk her.”
Sakura froze.
Naruto yelled something about abandoning him but Sasuke had already paid his bill and stood up. Any words of protest died in her throat as she felt his fingers curl around her elbow, guiding her out the door.
Just her luck, the streets are barren and the only noise to be heard is the crunch of their shoes against the ground.
Sakura walked with her head down, shoulders hunched inwards, trying to appear as small as possible. Internally, she is fuming. Is this his way of belittling her? Of showing her how incapable he finds her? Despite fighting in a war, Sakura Haruno cannot take care of herself at night–
Lost in her tirade, she nearly walked headfirst into a lamppost.
“Watch where you’re going.” Sasuke said not unkindly, tugging her to the side.
She took offense to it anyway. Who was he to lecture her anyway? Sakura wasn’t going to take safety advice from someone who once tried to end her life, thank you very much. She took her anger out on her handle bag, viciously curling her fingers into the material.
They paused at the front of her apartment building.
Was it unsafe to let him know where she lived? She was certain Sasuke couldn’t care less, but for her own sanity. Her nightmares hadn’t improved, and the anonymity of her whereabouts was the only thing that provided her a sense of security.
“I live on the fourth floor,” she lied. “It’s a long walk. You don’t have to come with me.”
She actually lived on the second but he didn’t have to know that.
Sasuke just stared before lifting an elegant black brow. She pressed her mouth thin, the blood draining from her lips.
“I see,” he said quietly. “Good night, Sakura.”
Sakura smiled tightly.
“Good night, Sasuke,” she said politely.
After all, what was she, if not polite.
It wouldn’t do, to add to the bad blood between them now. Not after Naruto worked so hard to drag his ass back here. Sakura would hate it if she were the one to scare him away.
The thought was stupid. No, Sasuke was never one to care about formalities. She was doing this for her own sake. If she could pretend like everything was fine, then maybe it would be.
The logical part of her brain tells her it’s time to move on. That her resentment is baseless in the face of Sasuke’s loss. He had the weight of an entire clan resting on his shoulder. Of course she wasn’t his priority, or even a thought. The truth hurts to hear, but the sooner she recognizes it, the sooner she can learn how to cope.
But still, her emotions run high these days, and her heart refuses to let go. They’re shinobi, and violence is written into their bloodstream, so why is she so hyperfixated on this slight. Forgiveness is the only method of healing Sakura has yet to master. There is no textbook instructions to follow, no diagrams to guide her, and no experiments to test and observe. The only way to learn is to open your heart and release the hatred. Something a lot easier said than done.
Naruto has no trouble with it. Nevermind the fact that he lost an arm, he’s happy as a clam just to have his friend back. Sakura cannot relate. She should be happy that Sasuke, her first love, is finally back. It’s her wish come true. Only too late though, because Sakura’s heart has shrunk over the years and it simply doesn't have enough space to hold her friends, her family, and the boy she loved. Her soul is riddled with scars and the raging torch she once carried for the Uchiha is no more than a small pinprick these days.
She wonders when it will snuff out entirely, so she can finally move on with her life.
Somedays, she fears it never will. It plagues her, this worry. That Sasuke has wrecked her too much for anyone else.
One day, Sakura gets sick of waiting. She decides to take matters into her own hands and goes out with a man she once treated before. He’d expressed interest in her but the thought of pursuing any romantic relationship at that time was inconceivable. But now, sitting in front of this charming guy, Jin, she feels her fears slowly dissipate. They have a good time, and the more she blocks Sasuke from her mind, the more she starts to enjoy herself. One date turns into two, which turns into three, and Sakura realizes with both fear and excitement that she has a boyfriend now. A boyfriend! Maybe this is even the man she is meant to marry. In the face of her giddiness, she does something very stupid.
She invites him to a team dinner.
Sakura walks into Ichiraku’s holding Jin’s hand before giving a proper introduction.
“Guys, I’d like you to meet Jin.” she says pointing to him.
He raises his hand in a small wave. “Hey. It’s nice to meet everyone.”
His smile is polite but Sakura can tell he’s nervous. She squeezes his hand for reassurance before turning to her team.
“We’re dating. Be nice to him.”
Naruto’s jaw is hanging open like a fish, Kakashi looks worried for some reason, and Sasuke…
Well she decides he’s not worth looking at because he’s impartial to these matters and it’s a waste of time attempting to gauge his reaction. It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t care and she absolutely doesn’t care either.
For a moment, no one speaks. A bead of sweat forms on her temples.
But then Kakashi stands up to greet them.
“You must be quite special to win Sakura’s affection,” he says, clapping Jin on the back with a friendly pat.
Jin laughs sheepishly and the awkwardness dissipates. Sakura releases a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. The conversation flows easily after that, with Naruto cracking jokes, Kakashi’s clever quips, and…
She had pointedly avoided looking at Sasuke, but that was nothing new.
When it was time to leave, Jin wrapped his arm around her shoulders and kissed her head before waving her team goodbye. Stepping out into the night, Sakura felt lighter than she had in a long time. The air was crisp and fresh. Her stomach was full, and her heart was free-
“Your teammate. The dark haired one.”
“Yeah?”
“He wants you.”
Her feet stopped moving. Sakura looked up to meet Jin’s brown eyes. Brown not black. What did he just say? Sakura laughed softly. Surely she didn’t hear him properly.
“What?”
Jin sucked in a sharp breath before rolling his eyes.
“Oh come on, Sakura. Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed.”
Sakura blinked rapidly, slowly pushing his arm off her shoulders.
“No, I didn't. So why don’t you explain it to me?” she said, hackles rising. Sakura sensed a fight about to take place. She only wished they were somewhere a little more private, and not in the middle of the street.
She was met with an utterly unimpressed glare.
“The guy was checking you out the whole time and you’re telling me you didn’t notice?” He questioned, voice raising slightly higher. Sakura folded her arms.
“That’s just Sasuke being Sasuke. His eyes are intense like that, stop reading into it.”
Jin let out a sharp laugh.
“You think I don’t know what a jealous man looks like? Sakura I thought you were smarter than this-”
“Don’t insult me,” she snapped. “I’m telling you right now that you could not be more wrong about him. He’s never given me an ounce of attention mind you-”
“Or maybe he did, and you’re just too oblivious to pick up on it.” he snorted, running a hand through his thick brown hair.
Sakura raised her brows. She walked home alone that night, before calling it off the next day.
Though, the interaction was still spinning through her mind, spiking white hot fury within her. How dare this man insult her intelligence. Sakura had enough brain cells to discern when someone was attracted to her, and Sasuke was the absolute last person she would ever place in that category.
Sakura flings a stone into the water fuming, watching it bounce off the surface several times before giving out and sinking to the depths of the river. One leg is tucked beneath her chin while the other is laying flat against the wooden deck. The hairs on the back of her neck rise before she even hears him.
“Sakura?”
Her shoulders straighten into a proper soldiers’ as she prepares to face this threat. She turns her head to the side to catch sight of him. The golden sunlight does her no favors, as it makes her damnation appear even more angelic. The light beams off his onyx hair, illuminating the fine strands, and turns his pale skin a lovely shade of tan.
She stands up, brushing dirt off the back of her shorts.
“Hi.”
Sasuke stands there, unsure whether to move or remain rooted. Sakura saves him from the discomfort by gesturing to the spot next to her. Whether he wants to take her invitation is on him. She played her role in being polite.
To her dismay and confusion, he takes it.
Sakura watches in slow motion as he moves closer, until they are within arms reach. If she were to step backward, she would fall into the river. Sakura debates the merits of that.
“What are you doing here?” He breaks the silence. How funny, that she had been wondering the same thing. This was her hideout spot. A sanctuary she’d discovered shortly after Naruto had left to train with Jiraiya. Her childhood bedroom just hadn’t been doing it for her anymore and Sakura needed a proper place to sulk.
She points to her pile of rocks.
“Skipping stones.”
His face remains unchanged.
“Aa.”
Unlike Naruto, Sakura isn’t interested in forming a new jutsu combo that could potentially explode her brain.
In Sasuke’s eyes, she is boring.
“You?”
He tucks his hand inside his pocket and shrugs.
“Looking for someplace quiet.”
Internally, she is upset. He stole her idea, the copycat. In the back of her mind, she wonders if he heard about her break up. She wonders if he knows that he caused it. How deep he has his claws in her to be able to ruin her love life without being a part of it.
Sakura endures a few more moments of painful silence before speaking.
“Do you want to join?”
Curse her and her big mouth. And even more, curse Sasuke for nodding his head. Why is he so agreeable lately? What’s his game plan?
They’re crouched down, as she tries to teach him how to flick his wrist properly. Like throwing a shuriken she explains.
He nails it on his first try. Sakura has to squint to see how far his rock goes and loses count of how many times it bounces.
She turns to stare at him but he’s already staring at her. Maybe it’s just the sunlight, but Sakura thinks she can spot a glimmer of amusement in that dark orb.
“Like that?” he asks.
Sakura swallows, momentarily hypnotized by the Rinnegan.
“Exactly.”
All of a sudden, he is everywhere. If Sakura believed in gods, then she would curse the one who kept tossing Sasuke in her path despite her best efforts to avoid the man. She bumps into him at the Hokage tower. Literally. She’s about to apologize profusely before realizing who it is and then her words die in her throat.
“Are you okay?” Sasuke asks. His hand is wrapped around her elbow to stabilize her and his brows are drawn together in what can only be concern. It disturbs her to her very core.
She manages a weak nod and mumbles out a half hearted apology before booking it out of there.
In the markets, they end up side by side, reaching for the same apple. Her fingers just barely ghost over his before she pulls her hand back, surrendering. He touched it first. However, Sasuke ends up handing her the fruit anyway. She eyes it with veiled suspicion now. His head is tilted to the side, like a curious cat. Plucking it out of his hand, she gives him a small smile and a dip of the head. No words are exchanged between them.
Not even a week later, he's in the hospital. Phantom limb pain, it seems, and she's somehow the only medic available to treat him. Sakura starts to get the feeling that all these run-ins are less than coincidental.
Still, she remains as professional as ever. Her touch is purely clinical, as she presses down on his stump and asks all the right questions. Sasuke mumbles out answers stoically as ever.
Despite her best attempts to remain neutral, it’s his gaze that undoes her. It feels like he’s peeled off the hardness of her heart to reveal the raw, fleshy organ underneath.
And then poked it with a stick.
She has to avoid meeting his eyes for this reason and busies herself with shuffling paperwork while Sasuke puts on his shirt. She had him remove it for medical reasons and put it back on for personal ones. Once he’s done, he just…remains. Sakura braves a glance to find him still sitting on the edge of the bed, looking at her blankly.
“Do you need anything else?” she asks, clearing her throat.
He says nothing for a minute before speaking.
“I heard about Jin.” Sakura nearly falls out of her chair. Why would he bring this up? What does he gain from this? “I’m sorry.”
“Why?” she asks a little too sharply. “You did nothing.”
You’ve done worse, her brain spits.
Sasuke says nothing in response, but he leaves shortly after. Sakura drowns herself in work for days afterwards, just to scrub him clean from her mind once more.
It’s dangerous to be around him this often. The fact becomes crystal clear to her on Naruto’s birthday. She hadn’t wanted to go for the sole reason of running into the Uchiha, but it was for Naruto, and despite her bitterness toward everyone and everything these days, she still cared about him.
Sakura arrives late, as she’s been wont to do lately. It doesn’t take long to spot a mop of yellow and, predictably, the head of black right beside him.
Two heads of black.
Naruto is sandwiched between Hinata and Sasuke. Sasuke sits next to Kakashi, and beside him is Choji, effectively eliminating any room for her.
Sakura eyes the door. It’s not too late to leave and say she’s sick—
“Sakura! Finally!”
Someone very blonde and very bright—Ino—pulls her into a hug.
“Everyone was here but you! Do you know how embarrassing it is to show up later than Kakashi?” Ino hisses into her ear before dragging her over to her seat, which Sakura silently thanks every higher power is not next to Sasuke.
It’s directly across from him.
Sakura sits down dazedly, in awe of her bad luck. And the irony. When she would have died for the man, he was nowhere to be found. And now, when the only thing she craves is distance, here he is. Right in front of her.
Sakura gives up right then and there. She’s so, so tired of avoiding him. And she’s tired of leaving their fate up to chance. She’s done her part in keeping her distance.
It’s time for Sasuke to do the same.
Stories pass around the table. So does the alcohol. Sakura twirls the stem of her wine glass, watching it shimmer beneath the lights.
It’s her third glass.
She thinks it’s time.
Maybe—just maybe—if she reverts to a blushing schoolgirl again, pushes him to the point of distress, he’ll avoid her like he used to. Lift the burden off her shoulders for once.
Sakura has been watching him for a while now, waiting for him to glance at her.
He does.
Onyx meets emerald and Sakura looks away bashfully, ducking her head as she smiles into her lap. The alcohol has settled warm in her veins, her cheeks flushed pink. She waits a beat before glancing back up.
Sasuke’s eyes are fixed somewhere behind her. On the blank, uninteresting, boring wall.
Look at me.
Like a fish on a hook, his gaze tugs back to hers, only this time, she doesn’t look away.
Their friends laugh and chatter around them, none the wiser. Sakura leans forward onto her elbow, toying with a strand of her hair. The corners of her mouth tilt into something coy. She almost wishes she had the Sharingan, just to capture every shift in Sasuke’s face as he flips through emotions she didn’t know he possessed.
Confusion blurs into caution blurs into uncertainty. Beautiful.
Still smiling, she leans back into her chair. It’s more fun than she’d like to admit. Riling Sasuke up. Watching those dark eyes, once filled with nothing but malice and indifference, widen in the face of her shameless flirting.
Sakura doesn’t look at him again.
She joins the conversation, laughs openly, leans into Ino like she belongs there. And it’s all…nice. It feels good.
Even Sasuke’s glances.
Either he’s not as subtle as he thinks, or he’s not trying to hide it at all, but Sakura can feel his eyes on her.
While Kakashi strikes up a conversation with Sasuke, she stretches her leg beneath the table. She bites her lip in mild frustration. Her legs aren’t long enough to reach him. She shifts lower in her seat, subtle, slow.
How far is too far?
How uncomfortable can she make him before she crosses something she can’t take back?
Sakura extends her leg as far as it will go and offers a silent prayer. Her foot nudges something very solid.
Victory.
She sees the exact moment Sasuke stiffens. Maybe it’s the wine, or the atmosphere, or the years of tension finally snapping loose, but Sakura drags her foot along the side of his leg. It’s not graceful nor subtle but it works. Because Sasuke’s fingers tighten around his drink. The muscle in his jaw ticks.
Sakura takes quiet pride in the way his eyes keep darting back to her. His glare is sharp and accusatory and she wants to laugh out loud.
It’s when they’re heading out, that he confronts her. Sakura wasn’t expecting that. The Sasuke she knew would have cringed and avoided her like the plague.
“What the hell was that?” he demands. His arm is blocking off her exit. Sakura has two options: duck, or shove it away. Instead, she leans on the wall beside him and smiles.
“What do you mean?” she giggles softly.
His eyes narrow into thin slits.
“You know what,” he all but hisses.
Without fully thinking it through, she raises her fingers to the collar of his shirt before hesitating.
Don’t be a coward.
Sakura closes the distance as she picks at invisible lint, playing with the fabric. She prays he can’t feel the slight tremor in her fingers nor the jaggedness in her strokes.
“Why are you so surprised," she teases. “Don’t you remember our genin days?”
The words don’t flow as smoothly as she intended. Maybe it’s because of the sudden tightness in her chest. Still, she soldiers on.
“When I would chase after you all the time. And ask you out on dates. And play with your hair.”
Feeling braver, she reaches up and takes an inky black strand between her forefinger and thumb. She can feel the heat radiating from his skin even better. It leaves her fingertips tingling.
She remembers brushing away stray bangs from his forehead when he was asleep as Genin. He’d looked so serene in those moments, his scowl smoothed into a slumbery haze.
“Maybe I miss those days,” she sighs quietly. Sakura refuses to look into the truth of that statement. “We should go back to them.”
Sasuke goes very still.
“Sakura-“
The sound of footsteps in the hallway breaks them apart. Sakura pulls her hand back a little too quickly, smoothing it over nothing as she takes a step away. Now they’re ex-teammates Sasuke and Sakura once again and nothing more.
“Goodbye, Sasuke-kun,” she whispers.
Her only regret is that she doesn’t catch the look on his face.
That’s it, she thinks. That’s the end of them.
She scared him badly to make him steer clear of her. And Sakura is too defeated to rekindle the flame. She had planned to never see him again apart from the occasional team celebration. And even if she did, she’d hoped he would keep to himself.
He was not supposed to show up on her doorstep the next morning.
Sakura nearly jumps out of her skin, head pounding from the hangover, when she opens the door and finds him there, waiting with a pack slung over his shoulder.
“Do you want to train with me?”
Sakura stared stupidly.
“You want me to train with you?” she repeated slowly, tasting the words.
Sasuke exhales, sharp and annoyed. There’s a slight redness marring his pale cheeks that Sakura can only believe is due to the sun.
“That is what I asked.”
Her brain is doing laps around her head.
“…okay. Sure. Just give me a few minutes. I’ll meet you at the training grounds,” she replies already reaching for the door before he can respond.
Sakura ran a hand over her face as soon as she was alone. Fuck. What the fuck was up with him?
It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter. He’ll get sick of her soon enough, like always.
Sakura quickly throws on a training outfit before bursting out the door. She wonders if she should make a fashionably late entrance, just to piss him off but decides against it. Because for all her toying, she still harbors a healthy dose of fear for the man.
She grimaces, making her way down to the training grounds.
If only the feeling was mutual.