The Girl Who Waited
Summary:Somewhere along the line while she was on his team, learning to become a shinobi alongside him, Sasuke stopped being just a good-looking, smart boy to her. Sakura got to know him – the darkness he wore like armour, and the light he only revealed in his rarest, most unguarded moments. [SasuSaku Festival 2017 – Day 1 – Prompt: “Valentine’s Day”]
Disclaimer: This story utilizes characters, situations and premises that are copyright Masashi Kishimoto, Shueisha, Shonen Jump and Viz Media. No infringement on their respective copyrights pertaining to episodes, novelizations, comics or short stories is intended by the author in any way, shape or form. This fan oriented story is written solely for the author’s own amusement and the entertainment of the readers. It is not for profit. Any resemblance to real organizations, institutions, products or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. All fiction, plot and Original Characters with the exception of those introduced in the books, manga, video games, novelizations and anime, are the sole creation of KuriQuinn and using them without permission is considered rude, in bad-taste and will reflect seriously on your credibility as a writer. A gaggle of pre-teen girls will taunt you a second time should you be found plagiarizing.
Warning: Spoilers for pretty much everything up to Chapter 699.
Canon-Compliance: As close to canon as fanfiction can possibly be. With a few personal additions :P Takes place during Part I, Part II and the Blank Period.
Fanon-Compliance: Takes place several years before An Inch of Gold and Unplanned.
AN: OC alert! There is an OC in this story! Ohmygosh!
Beta Reader: Sakura’s Unicorn
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一
Nine-year-old Sakura Haruno hides behind the shoji door of the classroom, clutching an immaculately wrapped package to her chest. Her heart beats a frantic rhythm against her ribs so loud that she thinks even he can hear it inside the room.
After all, Sasuke Uchiha is a prodigy who can already do so much more than the other students at the Academy. Super-hearing would not be that unbelievable.
Her stomach flip-flops a little, and she would tighten her fingers around the large box if she didn’t fear tearing the paper; the lady at the sweets stall did such a nice job wrapping it. Sakura didn’t even consider doing it herself because she’s all thumbs these days, and this gift has to be perfect. After all, she saved her pocket money from a year’s worth of chores so she could afford the finest box of chocolates they had.
It’s still not as nice as the one she saw last year in the fancy gourmet chocolate shop. Her mother wouldn’t let her buy it; Mama said it was a waste, and they don’t have a lot of money to begin with. That’s why Sakura had to save up this year. She wanted it to be extra special because she knows Sasuke’s all alone now.
About nine months ago, he lost his entire family.
She doesn’t know what actually happened to the Uchiha clan, just what Iruka-sensei has mentioned and the whispers she hears from her parents when they think she’s not listening. And, of course, the rumours the other kids spread – some benign, others ridiculous, still others far too terrible to contemplate.
Sakura doesn’t care how it happened. All she knows is that Sasuke is on his own – he has no mother or father anymore, or even his big brother – and he must be lonely. And so, she has decided that even though she isn’t brave enough to tell him she likes him, if she gives him a nice enough gift for Valentine’s Day, he’ll understand that he’s not alone and that people are thinking about him all the time.
And by people, she means herself.
If only she could muster the nerve to walk over there and hand him the package.
Just do it! There’s no one around, so no one will see if I mess up – shannaro!
“What’ve you got there, Sa-ku-ra,” someone drawls behind her, making her wince with every syllable of her name.
Oh, no! Too slow!
She turns around and finds herself facing Ino and at least three other girls from their class, all of whom are holding their own closely guarded packages.
“You’re not actually thinking of giving that to Sasuke, are you?” her former-friend derides, the curl of her lip suggesting Sakura has something decayed in her hands.
She squares her shoulder and juts her chin out defiantly. “So what if I am? I don’t think it’s any of your business.”
“It is our business if you’re going to dishonour him with something as flashy as that,” another girl interjects.
Someone else sniggers, “I saw that same package being sold at market.”
“You got him store-bought chocolate?” Ino mocks. “And here I thought you said you liked him.”
“I-I do!” Sakura protests.
Ino smirks, crossing her arms and looking utterly superior. “You’re such a dummy, Forehead. Everyone knows you only give store-bought chocolate to people you feel bad for.” The other girls titter and Ino continues, “I mean, if you can’t scrape together enough money to buy the best quality, like I did, you should’ve at least made it yourself.”
Ino produces a beautifully wrapped, gilded package – it’s the one that Sakura saw in the fancy chocolate shop! Her heart sinks as she takes a closer look at what the other girls are offering – clear, neat bento boxes containing painstakingly shaped bars of chocolate. Some are decorated with icing designs and swirls of ganache and, though they are clearly homemade, Sakura can just imagine the effort that went into creating them. Two of the girls even have bags under their eyes.
Sakura’s cheeks burn with embarrassment and she looks down at her feet; her fingers around the package tighten.
“But if you really think you can buy someone’s affections with second-rate candy, then go on,” Ino continues loftily. “You can give him your gift first. We’ll all wait, won’t we, girls?”
There’s some giggling at this, two of the girls elbowing each other conspiratorially, Ino’s mocking smile never wavering. Sakura desperately wants to square her shoulders and march defiantly into the classroom, to be the first person to give Sasuke a gift.
But the seeds of doubt have been sewn.
What if he thinks that she isn’t serious? That her feelings for him can only be expressed in a second-rate box of chocolates? It’s bad enough she couldn’t afford to buy him the ones she wanted, but if even girls who have no chance with Sasuke have slaved over homemade chocolate for him, he’ll think she’s joking around.
Immediately, she conjures the mental image of him opening the chocolates and tipping them over her head in front of the whole class.
No way! That can’t happen!
She hesitates long enough for the group of girls to shuffle past her, crowding into the classroom. Immediately, they become a gaggle of cooing and giggling idiots around Sasuke, each one vying to give him their chocolate first. Ino, of course, leads the bunch.
Sakura doesn’t bother to see if he accepts the gilded package. Instead, she lets the shoji slide closed and trudges back down the hallway. As she passes a waste bin, she throws the chocolates away and doesn’t look back.
二
The next year, Sakura spends the weeks before Valentine’s Day slaving over homemade chocolate.
She’s been learning to cook from her mother, but isn’t really good at it. She’s passably better with sweets and, by the end of several burnt batches, she has a half-dozen edible and not so horrible-looking pieces of chocolate. She even stays up late to decorate them and, the next morning, arrives to class exhausted but proud.
Once again, she lingers on the sidelines, watching nervously as several girls (fewer than last year, but still a considerable amount) offer Sasuke their brightly coloured boxes and succulent-looking sweets. Ino is back with her expensive, golden package again, and it’s possibly more impressive than the one last year.
And yet, without fail, Sasuke ignores all of them.
Somehow, he’s more interested in staring out the window, leaving each girl standing awkwardly in front of his desk until another contender elbows her out of the way to try her luck.
If the other girls weren’t her competition, Sakura might feel a little sorry for them all. As it is, she’s nervous enough – half-tempted to prove that she’s the one he’ll accept a gift from, half-dreading being on the receiving end of that same treatment.
She spends most of the morning trying to decide whether she should even attempt it. She barely notices the drama in the background; the chocolates meant for Sasuke are sneakily divided amongst the rest of the boys in the class while the girls who brought them squabble with each other. Kiba actually gets into a fistfight with Naruto, and that’s when Iruka gets involved. It all ends with the class having to write an essay on the necessity of discipline in a shinobi’s life. At least that’s what she thinks the essay’s about. She may or may not have gotten distracted watching Sasuke instead of paying attention.
By lunch break, she finally decides to risk it.
After all, love isn’t supposed to be easy! And this will show him and everyone that I’m going to fight for him, no matter what!
And, of course, wouldn’t it be great if he did accept her gift instead of Ino’s?
Those thoughts are what make her straighten up and follow Sasuke out of class when Iruka-sensei dismisses everyone. He shuffles down the hall, alone as usual, most of the other students giving him a wide berth.
“S-Sasuke, wait up!” she cries, cringing at how her words come out as more of a whisper. It’s no wonder he keeps walking, disappearing around a corner and forcing her to actually run after him.
She races around the corner and quickly overtakes him, coming to a halting stop a few feet in front of him.
“Please wait,” she says, breathless, face flushing warmly. Staring down at the floor, she holds out her offering to him. “It’s Valentine’s Day and I-I would… I mean, I worked really hard on these and it would… I was hoping you could accept my…my gift. For you.”
She means to say feelings, but at the last second, her courage fails her. She thinks maybe that will make it hurt less if he doesn’t feel the same.
When nothing happens right away, she lifts her head and opens one eye.
Sasuke is staring at her blankly which she thinks is a good sign. He could’ve just kept walking, after all.
Then he sighs – her heart begins to lift in hope – and scowls at her.
“You wasted your time,” he tells her neutrally. “I don’t like sweets.”
And then he does finally walk away, hands in his pockets. Once again, Sakura stands by herself, clutching a box of chocolates to her chest.
Her eyes begin to water and her chest twinges painfully, her instinctual reaction to see this as rejection. Except…
Except, unlike with all the other girls, he actually spoke to her, instead of pretending she didn’t exist. She’s always wanted Sasuke to recognise her in some way, and today – well, today, he did just that.
It’s a step. Just one small step, but it’s a start!
She beams at his retreating back, and decides that she’ll get it right next time.
三
Sakura arrives a half-hour before any of the other students, determinedly carrying yet another plain, unfashionable bento box. Inside, she has arranged six perfectly-formed dark chocolate and chilli-spiced truffles.
This year, she’s sure she got it right.
Peering into the classroom, she is unsurprised to see that Sasuke is already there. He always arrives early, although she gets the sense that it’s not because he likes mornings. It must be so lonely at home for him without his family; being here is probably just less painful.
It’s that thought that keeps her from hesitating.
She marches over to Sasuke and plants herself in front of him, back straight, trying to radiate the kind of confidence the heroines in her storybooks always have.
He is in his habitual position – hunched forward, chin perched on interlocked fingers, and eyes closed as if in meditation. Maybe he’s contemplating the universe – Sasuke is so deep like that. Sakura almost doesn’t want to bother him.
Should I clear my throat or something? I don’t want to startle him…
Not that she could because Sasuke expects everything – he probably even knows she’s there. But if he does, why doesn’t he just say something?
As if her thoughts triggered it, a furrow forms on his forehead and his eyes shoot open, narrowing into his default expression of annoyance.
“Is there something you need?” he asks flatly, tone conveying exasperation – like she’s tiring him out by just existing.
Sakura takes a half-step back, torn between hurt and frustration because would it kill him to be nice for once in his life?!
But then his gaze falls on the box in her hands and his face smooths into blankness. His eyes close again and his shoulders slump. She thinks she hears him mutter under his breath, “This again…”
Which makes her a little defensive because she did it differently this year, damn it!
“I know you said that you don’t like sweet things,” she tells him quickly. “I guess that’s why you never accept Valentine’s Day chocolate, huh? I wouldn’t either if people kept giving me stuff I didn’t like. And…and not a lot of stores sell chocolate that isn’t sweet, so I made this. I tried a few different recipes to make sure they didn’t turn out sweet and I-I tasted them. And, well…I didn’t really like them – but not because they weren’t good, I just don’t like spicy stuff, but my mother said that’s how they’re supposed to be and –”
She clamps her mouth shut as she realises that she’s babbling. The whole time, Sasuke regards her stiffly, but for once, his expression isn’t one of aloofness. She thinks she sees confusion there, like he’s trying to decide on something to say.
“You remembered that I don’t like sweets,” he states, as if he hasn’t heard the rest of it. She can’t tell if he’s puzzled or impressed.
She decides to lean on the latter and puffs her chest out importantly.
“Well, I have a really good memory,” she boasts, fighting every natural inclination she has to look down at her feet. She’s got his attention for once and she intends to revel in every moment of it.
That moment turns out to be fleeting as his expression reverts to familiar annoyance and he stands up.
“I don’t like chocolate at all,” he tells her, heading up the stairs. “Give them to someone who does.”
Sakura panics, staring at his back and conscious that she’s about to lose her moment with him.
“Can I…can I ask why?” she blurts out. “I mean, it’s such a strange thing, not liking sweets. Are you allergic?” As she says it, an entirely-possible scenario occurs to her. “Oh. Is that why you always say no? Because it makes you sick? If-if that’s the case, you should tell everyone. I don’t think anyone would want you to get sick. D-definitely not me.”
She notices his fists clenching, his shoulders tensing, and when he bites out, “I just don’t like them,” she can’t help but shudder at the coldness.
Sasuke skips the rest of their lessons that day.
Sakura carefully doesn’t mention to the other girls that he was there, or that she’s the reason he left before they could shower him with more unwanted sweets. She spends the rest of Valentine’s Day trying to figure out exactly where she went wrong.
四
Sakura has never been to the Uchiha district.
It’s far away, on the outskirts of Konoha, and much older and creeper than most of the other neighbourhoods. Also, she’s never needed to leave the village proper, so coming out this way has never been necessary. Most of the older kids say it’s haunted by the ghosts of the dead Uchiha which Sakura knows is nonsense; most parents complain how the village really should resettle the area but no one ever does.
She wouldn’t be here today, except…well, it could be her last chance to get this right.
In two months, she and the rest of their class will be taking their graduation exam. Once everyone becomes genin, they will be split into teams, and she probably won’t get the chance to see Sasuke so often. He’s at the top of the class, and if teams are made based on class rank, she suspects she won’t be in the running.
Shikamaru’s a genius – she heard Iruka-sensei once say that he could be the first of them to become a jōnin if he tried. And, despite Sakura’s best efforts, all the other girls say that Ino is the top female student in the class.
If this is my last chance, I’m going to make it count this year!
She leaves her house at dawn, ignoring her bleary-eyed parents’ queries as she grabs the container she procured from the market the evening before. Dad makes a bad joke about early birds and worms, Mom shakes her head knowingly, and Sakura is on her way.
Upon reaching the abandoned quarter, it doesn’t take Sakura long to find Sasuke’s house. It’s the only place that looks like someone lives there, with the walkway swept of debris and the paint around the eaves renewed. She wonders if he did that himself, or if the Hokage sends someone every now and then.
She raps on the door a few times and then waits, rocking nervously back and forth on her heels. It’s early enough that he should still be here, and she doubts she’s waking him up. However, after a full ten minutes with no answer, her hopes begin to fade.
Maybe I missed him after all?
She considers the merits of bringing her gift with her to the Academy, but immediately decides against it. She came here to avoid the drama and attention that inevitably comes from giving Valentine’s Day gifts in a classroom surrounded by the other contenders for Sasuke’s heart. She could always leave it here with a card – but there are plenty of stray animals in Konoha that would make quick work of her offering.
I could always come back after school. Or would that be weird? He might think I’m following him around, and then –
“Sakura.”
She shrieks in surprise, fumbling with the carton in her hands, miraculously managing not to drop it. Turning toward the road, she is faced with a tired-looking, sweaty Sasuke Uchiha. His clothes are scuffed with dirt, but his demeanour doesn’t suggest someone who was just attacked.
I bet he was out training. Wow. He gets up early to train and he’s always first to class? That is dedication. Sasuke is soooo cool.
It’s also not fair that he looks so good after a workout.
“What are you doing here?” he asks, not exactly unkindly, but not in a particularly welcoming way either.
“I just… I wanted to give you something,” she says quickly.
Sasuke exhales in annoyance at this. “I told you already. I don’t like chocolate –”
“I know. I remember,” she interrupts because he’s already heading for his door! “I decided to get you something that you do like, so you can accept my gift.”
“You’re wasting your time,” Sasuke says, reaching for his front door.
“N-no! Wait, Sasuke! Hold on. Don’t shut the door on me yet, please?” she beseeches. “I just want to… Here, look.”
By some small miracle, he doesn’t just ignore her, but his imperious over-the-shoulder glance isn’t exactly comforting. Not to be deterred, Sakura flounders a little with the box, but pries open the thin wooden lid to reveal its contents.
Two dozen shiny red cherry tomatoes gleam up at Sasuke in the morning sun.
“These are for you,” she tells him needlessly. “I saw you a few weeks ago, shopping. I mean – not like I was following you or anything, I was just with my m – we were getting groceries. And it’s weird to see someone our age shopping alone at the market that early in the morning, but then I realised it was you because…well. Anyway, I thought I should get you something you’d actually like this year, and these ones aren’t sweet at all! I tried a few to make sure. Oh, and I read that tomatoes have a lot of health benefits – there’s vitamins and potassium, and they help bone growth which, I mean, if you’re training as hard as I know you do, would be really great, right?” She pauses, reviews everything she just said to make sure it’s not too lame, and then quickly adds, “And…and don’t worry about giving me anything back, okay? I just wanted to give you something. This doesn’t have to be a…a Valentine’s Day gift.”
Throughout her entire speech, Sasuke has slowly turned around to face her, staring down at the tomatoes like he’s never seen any before. His eyes inch toward her face, calculation there, as if she is something inexplicable – a bacterium that’s decided to get chatty, perhaps.
He opens his mouth to say something – probably to reject her, so she braces herself for it. Then he closes his mouth, frowns thoughtfully, and exhales again. Except this time, it isn’t in annoyance, but more like…resignation? Acceptance?
“…thank you,” he tells her in a stiff tone, the words sounding awkward and unfamiliar to her ears. Maybe they feel even weirder for him to say, but she can’t really think about the implications of that since her brain is stalled – Sasuke has reached out to take the carton from her outstretched hands.
She shakes herself out of her stunned joy and, bolstered by her success, boldly suggests, “If you want, I can wait for you to get cleaned up. Maybe…maybe we can walk to class together?”
She knows she’s pushing it, but why waste the opportunity?
“No,” he replies as he unlocks the door to his house.
The interior is too dark to get much of a clue to what is hidden within, but it smells heavily of a combination of cedarwood, incense, and tatami. It strikes her as an odd smell for someone’s home – more suited to a temple interior. It possesses none of the comforting scents she is used to at house.
Sasuke turns to face her, the tomato carton loosely cradled in the crook of his arm. “I’m not going in today,” he says. He considers her a further half-second then adds, “You should go or you’ll be late.”
And then the door is closed, an impenetrable barrier once more between them.
Surprisingly, Sakura doesn’t mind this rebuff. In fact, it does nothing to destroy her bewildered giddiness. All the way out of the Uchiha district, she feels a strange disconnect, as if she is floating. Once across the ward’s threshold, the giddiness turns into fully-formed joy and she laughs out loud.
“Shannaro!” she shouts at no one in particular, punching the air in triumph.
It’s the first time he’s ever accepted anything from her – maybe even from anyone. The magnitude of this moment is not lost on her, and she’s sure she’ll be coasting through the rest of the day on that.
As much as she wants to track down Ino and loudly rub it in her face, some inner part of Sakura cautions her to keep this quiet.
This will be mine and Sasuke’s secret.
And that makes it a hundred times better.
五
“Hey Sakura! Whatcha got in the bag? Huh? Huh? Huhh?!”
“Naruto, if you don’t get out of my face, I’m going to slug you!” she snaps, making a threatening fist at him. The orange-clad boy pre-emptively ducks, sticking out his tongue. Several feet away, she can practically hear Sasuke rolling his eyes.
“But I wanna know,” Naruto complains. “Did you bring games? You should’ve brought something fun to do. Kakashi-sensei’s taking forever.”
“No, I didn’t bring games,” she tells him, although she wonders why that idea hasn’t occurred to her before now. Their instructor is always late, if he even shows up at all. Maybe some cards or dice…
“Then what’s in there?”
“You’ll see when Kakashi-sensei gets here,” Sakura retorts.
“But why not now?”
“Because I said so! We’re waiting until –”
“I heard my name?”
There’s a puff of smoke and suddenly Kakashi is leaning over them, disgustingly unbothered by his tardiness, as usual.
“You’re late!” Sakura and Naruto chorus.
“Well, my horoscope said something unfortunate would happen to me if I took my usual route today, so –”
“Liar!”
“Can we get started?” Sasuke interrupts, as usual unimpressed with Kakashi’s excuses.
“In a minute,” Naruto shoots back. “Sakura said she would open the bag and I wanna see what’s in it!”
“If you keep annoying me, you won’t,” she grumbles, but she’s already undoing the ties and unfolding the cloth.
Two red-wrapped packages shine in the sunlight, and she passes them to Kakashi and Naruto. Not waiting to see their reactions, she reaches back into the bag and draws out a plain carton of tomatoes for Sasuke. She has, after all, learned her lesson.
Sasuke leans away from the tomatoes, as if he’s expecting them to attack, but at her expectant look, he relents and reaches for them.
“Happy Valentine’s Day!” she declares, beaming at them all and relishing in their varied expressions.
Kakashi looks as if he has no idea what to say – she supposes it’s been a long time since he got chocolate from anyone – while Naruto is frozen. It occurs to her too late that this is probably the first year anyone has given him anything. This suspicion is confirmed when he looks up at her, his eyes suspiciously glassy.
“Sakura…”
“It’s not a big deal,” she hurries to say. “Ino gave all the guys on her team gifts, so I figured I would do the same. I’m not going to let her out-do me.”
That’s not entirely true.
Things have been so tense on their team lately. Sasuke’s been cold and sulky, while Naruto has been more reckless than usual, hell-bent on surpassing his friend and rival. The chūnin exam, the mark on Sasuke’s neck, and the events in the months afterward has kept everyone stressed. Maybe this tiny gesture will make the temperamental men in her life feel a little better.
“Hah! Sakura must hate you, Sasuke. She gave you vegetables!”
“Or she wants me to live longer than you.”
She winces.
Or not.
“This is very thoughtful of you, Sakura,” Kakashi tells her quietly, and even though she can’t see his face beneath that damned mask, she thinks he might be smiling at her. “Hopefully, you’ll receive some equally thoughtful gifts on White Day.”
In her imagination, he is looking pointedly at Sasuke, who scoffs lightly and says, “If we’re not going on a mission today, I’m going home.”
This predictably leads into Naruto calling Sasuke names, Sakura trying to keep the peace, and Kakashi finally letting them know about whatever lame mission they’ve been assigned.
The fleeting moment of peace is broken, to be forgotten over the course of their day. Still, Sasuke brings the tomatoes home with him, and Sakura counts that as a victory – one of a meagre few.
More and more lately, Sakura realises that there is something very wrong with her team, something that needs to be fixed before it completely breaks, but she doesn’t know what it is or even if she could help. Some days are very unpleasant – sometimes Sasuke and Naruto do nothing but fight. Other days – the worse days – are when they don’t even acknowledge each other’s existence.
Sakura can see that Sasuke is struggling with something, but whenever she asks – something she would never have tried to do when they were younger – he tells her he’s fine. If she gets brave enough to bring up the curse mark, he doesn’t speak to her for days.
The only thing that keeps his attention is his ridiculous competition with Naruto.
Despite keeping her worries to herself, Sakura’s performance on the team begins to lag. Sasuke snaps at her a lot more, Naruto cuts down on his annoying requests for dates, and Kakashi eyes her with concern.
Maybe that’s why one day in mid-March, Kakashi arrives at their usual meeting place with a large box of marshmallow animals and a casual “Happy White Day” greeting.
“Someone gave me these, but I don’t like marshmallows,” he tells her with a shrug. “So here.”
She would be willing to brush it off as coincidence if Naruto didn’t hand her a package as well. It’s clumsily wrapped with magazine covers and he sheepishly admits, “I forgot what day it was until yesterday.”
Upon opening the package, she finds a much too large, much too frilly white lingerie set.
Kakashi chokes back either a laugh or a groan of dismay, and Sakura is – of course – forced to beat her friend into a human-shaped bruise for the inappropriateness of his gift…even if she might be laughing a little on the inside because it’s been so long since Naruto did anything lighthearted.
Sasuke offers her nothing which isn’t a surprise. Another girl might be upset that he’s the only one who doesn’t bother with a gift, but she’s used to this. Sasuke isn’t the type to give gifts to anyone, and after all these years, she’s finally started to understand that. But when Sakura glances up, his right eye twitches at the white material and she thinks that if she didn’t punch Naruto first, Sasuke might have. The idea makes her feel a little giddy because it suggests he cares about her honour.
A bit.
Ish.
Who cares? I’ll take it!
The fact that all of them agreed to make such a silly day as White Day special for her has her beaming the entire day. Training is even pleasant – a rarity of late – and her teammates don’t bicker with each other. Everything is going well, even though the only mission Lady Tsunade has for them is scrubbing graffiti off the back of the movie theatre – which goes by quickly because Naruto is apparently an expert at cleaning spray paint off walls.
The three of them are just heading to Hokage Tower to check in when they encounter Rock Li on his crutches heading back to the hospital. The sight isn’t exactly unexpected, although the large bouquet he is holding in his mouth is somewhat of a surprise.
“For you, Sakura!” he declares when he stops in front of them, dropping his crutches to the floor and holding out the extravagant bunch of flowers. Sakura suspects Ino helped him pick the flowers out – camellias of red, yellow, and white are flourished beneath her nose. “Happy White Day!”
“Thanks, Li,” she tells him sincerely – even if she doesn’t return his feelings, it would be rude not to accept the offering. Besides, no one ever buys her flowers. “These are beautiful.”
“Only the most radiant blossoms for the most radiant blossom of them all!”
“Huh. She didn’t punch him,” Naruto remarks to Sasuke in an aside. “Should I have gotten her flowers instead?”
Sasuke crosses his arms. “Who cares? They’d just die, too.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sakura asks before she can stop herself, clutching the flowers to herself.
Sasuke shrugs and continues walking. “You’re impressed by useless things. If people are going to observe ridiculous holidays, the least they could do is give you something useful.”
“Hey, it’s not ridiculous!” Naruto protests. “At least we got her something, asshole.”
“Whatever.”
“It’s okay, guys,” Sakura says quietly, trying to diffuse the situation.
“No, Sakura, he is being most rude,” Li tells her. He frowns at Sasuke’s back and balls his bandaged hand into a fist. “Would it not set back my recovery time, I would challenge him to a duel!”
“No, no! Don’t do that,” she says quickly. “You can’t right now. Lady Tsunade said you can’t exert yourself. And really, I love the flowers. I’m going to put them in water the minute I get home, okay?”
Although Li is placated, when she looks up, Sasuke is already down the street with Naruto glowering at his retreating back.
“He seriously needs to unpucker,” Naruto grumbles.
Sakura sighs and mourns yet another day ruined by whatever’s going on with Sasuke.
When she gets home, her mother admires the bouquet and suggests inviting Li over to dinner; her father makes jokes about having to beat away the boys with a stick. Sakura grumbles at them both, reminds them that she and Li are only ever going to be friends, and heads upstairs to fall face-first on her bed.
For several long, blissful moments, she exists in perfect peace, nothing but the light breeze teasing at her hair. She is utterly exhausted, drained, and if she’s being honest, a little hurt as well. It’s sometimes hard to care about someone who is unwilling to open up. She figures that having your entire family murdered by your brother as well as having a psychotic shinobi brand you with a curse mark aren’t exactly things that are easy to talk about, but…
She still wishes he would talk to her. One day he will, she knows, but in the meantime, pretending that his constant rebuffs and caustic remarks don’t bother her is becoming a chore.
A shiver creeps up her spine and Sakura frowns.
Her room is drafty from the open window, a fact that’s confusing – she never leaves her windows open when she leaves the house. With a muffled groan, she pushes herself up and crosses the room to close it, only to pause at the sight of something sitting on the window sill – a plain, flat, white box. It’s not very large and she doesn’t see any ink or seals on it to suggest it might be dangerous, but there’s no note attached to explain its presence.
Half-suspicious, half-curious, she lifts the thin lid on the box.
Her breath catches in her throat.
A pair of black gloves are neatly nestled inside the container. They are thick, of high quality leather, and clearly well-made. Upon trying one on, she discovers that they are bigger than her hand – obviously made for a woman. She’ll grow into them eventually.
She can’t figure out who left these for her or why. They’ll be useful, though, to protect her hands from any stray blades or even during sparring sessions.
As she pulls the glove off, she is hit by an oddly familiar scent – cedar, incense, and tatami.
It takes a second to place where she’s smelled that, and when she does, her cheeks flush with warmth.
“Next time,” she promises herself out loud, holding the gloves close to her heart. Her birthday is in two weeks, and maybe if she plays her cards right, she can talk him into going on a date with her.
Only I’ll call it training instead of a date because maybe that word makes him nervous. But if we happen to stop by somewhere to eat on the way home, that wouldn’t be horrible, would it?
She spends the rest of the night planning it out in her head, never dreaming of the possibility that Sasuke won’t be anywhere near Konoha by the time her birthday comes around.
六
It’s been almost a year since Sasuke left.
A year since Sakura’s entire life was upended and thrown onto a path she never would have imagined. For herself or her friends.
She hasn’t seen Naruto is almost as long, not since he started travelling and training with Lord Jiraiya. He still sends letters when he can, but they’re few and far between. She barely sees Kakashi anymore, either – he’s always off on some mission or other. And, of course, Sakura herself is busy training with Tsunade and interning at the hospital.
Most days, she can push away the hurt and worry, but other days, it feels like the glaring absences in her life are even more obvious.
She supposes that’s why she finds herself making the rounds on Valentine’s Day, passing out chocolate to her male friends. Anything for a little bit of normalcy, anything to pretend like she’s still just a kid and not training until she bleeds almost every day to be strong enough to save the boy she loves.
Because she does love him.
Sakura knew she cared for Sasuke growing up, but his complete absence in her life has created a gnawing, hollow void that is too painful for her feelings to have been just a crush.
Somewhere along the line while she was on his team, learning to become a shinobi alongside him, Sasuke stopped being just a good-looking, smart boy to her. Sakura got to know him – the darkness he wore like armour, and the light he only revealed in his rarest, most unguarded moments.
The boy who thanked her for loving him, instead of outright rejecting her even when he was leaving her behind – that boy needs to be saved, even if it is from himself. It’s why she let Naruto make a promise to bring him back. And, no matter what, she’s going to be right beside him when they do.
Until then, she’s taking every day one at a time, trying to enjoy the little things that used to make her happy.
This year, there’s no way to send anything to Naruto – even if there was, she suspects Lord Jiraiya would eat it before her friend got a look in. The guy’s a complete lout, legendary Sannin or not. As for Kakashi, with his frequent absences, he’s hard to pin down. Sakura considers giving her small gift to Gai-sensei to pass on, but she honestly can’t take his overwhelming exuberance today.
Instead, she heads downtown to Manako’s shop. If Kakashi was to check in with anyone when he gets back from a mission, it’s either his rival or his…
Well, whatever Manako is to him. In any case, the Inuzuka woman is the more perceptive and relaxed of the two options.
Upon entering the little shop, the familiar scent of parchment, ink, and gunpowder wash over Sakura. Shelves with different scrolls and tags line the walls, each one able to create explosive blasts of varying degrees of severity and with different effects. Manako is a genius when it comes to demolitions – probably due to her keen senses – and for a civilian, understands the shinobi world better than most.
The woman herself is hunched over the counter, frowning at several complex equations on a scroll from beneath a fringe of dark hair. As Sakura ventures closer, Manako sniffs and glances up, smirking in recognition.
“Well, well, well. Look who it is,” she drawls, sliding her work away then straightening up, arms crossed. “It’s funny. You kind of remind me of this kid who used to come in here to buy explosive tags. Skinny little thing, about so high?” She makes a motion toward her hip with one hand. “Usually with a loud, blond brat who smells like ramen?”
“Knock it off. You know I was here last month.”
“I’m just saying you used to be in here more often,” Manako sighs dramatically. “I still keep your usual order in stock, too. But then again, as I hear it, you don’t really have much use for that Sakura Blizzard technique of yours anymore. Is it true that old Tsunade’s teaching you to break mountains?”
Sakura goes red. “Where’d you hear that?”
“Well, Scarecrow talks a lot, doesn’t he?” she shrugs and then leers suggestively. “Or at least he does when you know what he likes.”
Sakura’s flattered modesty turns into embarrassed disgust just as quickly. “Please stop talking now.”
It’s like thinking about parent-sex! Ugh, I should have gone with Gai-sensei after all!
But Manako laughs good-naturedly and mimes zipping her lips.
“What can I do for you, kiddo?”
“Actually, I’m just here to drop something off for Kakashi. I never know when he’s going to be around, so leaving it outside his apartment seems silly,” Sakura explains, handing over the small box of chocolates. “I mean, I doubt he’ll really care either way, but you know…it’s Valentine’s Day.” She shrugs. “If you want them, go ahead.”
“Nah, never touch the stuff. Me and most of my family are allergic to it.”
“That makes sense.” Sakura blinks in surprise. “Hey, wait – Kiba always used to accept chocolate when we were in the Academy. He used to fight Naruto over it almost every year.”
“That’s because my brother’s a stubborn little bastard who would eat himself sick just to prove a point,” Manako replies dryly, reaching out to take the box. “But I can keep these in my fridge for Kakashi. He’ll wander by eventually.” She eyes the small sack Sakura is carrying with her, and raises an eyebrow. “More stops today?”
“Mm-hm,” Sakura acknowledges, readjusting her gloves; they are still too large for her, but she wears them everywhere. “I’ve got a bunch to give out to my other friends before my shift starts at the hospital.”
Li should’ve just gotten back from a mission. Shikamaru and Choji probably talked Ino into getting them barbecue. Sakura even caved and picked up something for Neji, even though he’s never been what she might call friendly to her. She doubts he’ll eat any of it, but he was one of the guys who went after Sasuke to bring him back and she will be eternally grateful for that.
Sakura’s throat begins to ache at the reminder, a sure sign that if she keeps thinking on the subject, she’ll start crying again. She clears her throat and suggests, “Although…maybe I’ll get something different for Kiba?”
“Eh, why bother? By now, it’s almost tradition. Baby brother pukes his guts up, Mom yells at him, and Hana fusses over the little runt until he’s feeling better – a vicious, unending cycle.“
“That’s ridiculous. If it’s something he knows hurts him, why does he keep doing it?”
Manako shrugs. “People don’t always like what’s good for them.”
Isn’t that the truth?
The words hit a little too close to home which is why Sakura decides to cut the visit short. She pastes a smile on her face. “Anyway, that’s all I came in here for.”
Manako nods, her face taking on a more thoughtful cast than Sakura is used to.
“How’re you holding up?” she asks.
The question is unexpected, considering she and Manako don’t exactly have a close friendship, but there’s no doubt what she’s referring to. Everyone in the village knows of Sakura’s one-sided feelings for the youngest Uchiha traitor. She knows that people say stuff when they think she can’t hear, but she’s never taken Manako to be the type to listen to or care much for gossip.
Hoping to side-step the issue, Sakura continues to smile, although it’s a little more strained now. “What do you mean? I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not,” Manako replies pointedly. “But I won’t push it if you’re set on faking it. Sometimes, it’s the only way to make it through the day.”
“What…what do you mean by that?”
She shrugs, piling her parchment and ink on top of the chocolates for Kakashi. “Nothing.”
But now Sakura is annoyed. “Then why’d you say anything?”
The bomb-maker is silent for a long moment, but at the last second, pauses in her journey to the back of the shop.
“Look, you’re not the first woman to get her heart broken by an Uchiha,” she tells her bluntly, although not altogether unkindly. “It hurts. It will probably hurt forever. But at least you know yours is still alive, right? So, just hold on to that. And go out there and kick ass.”
She disappears into the back of the shop, leaving Sakura puzzling over that. The implications are strange and yet not as surprising as she would expect. Sakura tends to forget sometimes that Sasuke wasn’t always the last Uchiha – in fact, if the reports she’s glimpsed on Lady Tsunade’s desk are any indication, he still isn’t.
Once, there was a whole clan, people who were part of this village. There are probably people still alive today who knew them, and now…now everyone just pretends they didn’t exist.
The notion bothers her, and it’s still in her thoughts as she wanders alone through the Uchiha district at the end of her day. In her hands, she carries a small, potted cherry tomato plant which she bought at the market on her way home. She plants it behind his apartment, in a spot she knows from her last visit here gets a lot of sun.
Looking down at the lonely little plant, she thinks on Manako’s words and clenches her fists.
He’s alive. Somewhere, he’s alive. He’s going to come back. And he’ll want to know that no one forgot him.
七
It’s been almost two years and Sakura has almost given up on ever hearing from Sasuke again.
She’s only able to sleep at night because she knows that while Orochimaru covets his body, Sasuke gets to live. Still, the more time passes, the more nightmares she has – horrible, detailed visions of Sasuke returning the village, only it’s not him. In these dreams, the village burns while Orochimaru, his face a shredded amalgamation of his and Sasuke’s features, laughs.
She wishes she had someone to confide in about these dreams, but that would mean uttering Sasuke’s name. Besides the fact that her entire body hurts when she does that, she can’t stand the pitying looks she gets from people when she does.
Naruto would understand, but he’s still travelling. She hasn’t heard from him in a while beyond the occasional note to tell her he’s alive. Kakashi’s reconnaissance missions have increased, and the last communication she had with him was four months ago; he sent her a congratulatory note after she became a chūnin, a milestone that should mean something to her.
All she can think of is that she should’ve experienced it with Naruto and Sasuke by her side.
Now she’ll never get the chance.
“You look tired, dear,” her mother tells her one morning. “You should ask for the day off.”
“I can’t. Lady Tsunade is going to be testing out those antidotes I made yesterday.”
“And she needs you there for that?” Mebuki harrumphs. “She can just tell you how they turned out tomorrow. You need a break. Go out and have some fun. Especially today.”
Sakura blinks in confusion for a moment, then glances back at the calendar.
Valentine’s Day.
Oh.
“I really am busy, Mom. Besides, it’s not a good time.”
“Pah! There’s always time for romance! What? Are you worried no one would ask you out?”
“That’s not – I really don’t care about that sort of thing.”
The irony of that statement is not lost on her.
“What about your friend? The nice boy with the eyebrows. He’s always so polite when he comes by here.”
“I don’t like Li that way.”
“Why not? He clearly cares about you.”
“Mom, stop.”
“Sweetheart, I’m just worried about you,” her mother beseeches, her lighthearted and teasing tone vanishing. “You can’t put your entire life on hold for one boy –”
“Mom!”
“ – who isn’t coming back.”
CRASH!
The kitchen table is suddenly in two pieces – jagged planks on the kitchen floor and her fist throbbing. She didn’t properly channel her chakra, and if it weren’t for her still too-large gloves, her knuckles would be bleeding right now.
“Sakura!”
“He’s coming back!” Sakura cries, ignoring her mother’s shocked expression.
Mebuki recovers herself, hands on her hips. “There’s no need to break our furniture, young lady.”
“Naruto promised! We’re going to find him together! He said!”
“It doesn’t matter if you find him, if he doesn’t want to be here! If he doesn’t want…”
Her mother trails off and Sakura tenses.
“Doesn’t want?” she prompts.
“Never mind.”
“Doesn’t want me, right?” Sakura suggests, and now she’s shouting. “Who cares if he comes back if he doesn’t want me, is that it? Well, I don’t care! I don’t care if he comes back and doesn’t want me, because at least he’d be here. Alive. And maybe, even if it’s not me, he’ll find someone who makes him happy and he won’t want to be away from all of the people who do care about him, and that is all that matters!”
She’s crying now and, damn it, she promised herself she wouldn’t do that anymore!
“Sakura –”
“I have to go,” she sobs, hurtling blindly out the door and away from the house.
In circumstances like these, she usually heads for the training grounds, desperately needing to punch something that isn’t furniture. She knows she’ll be dealing with the fallout from that loss of temper for a while, but right now, she just needs to cool down.
As she nears the outskirts of the village, she unconsciously finds herself changing directions and in no time, is standing in front of Sasuke’s house.
The place is empty. No one wants anything to do with the remaining hints of the Uchiha clan, in much the same way that no one ever goes to Naruto’s apartment, except for her – as if being in the same place as either one might spread some sort of disease.
Sakura clenches her fists, stalking around the back of the apartment, frowning down at the tomato plant she put there last year. She has been tending to it every few days and, as a result, it is flourishing. Tiny greenish orbs are already forming.
It’s the only living, growing thing in this entire damned neighbourhood that someone actually cares about.
White-hot rage overwhelms her and Sakura snaps forward, ripping the little plant from the ground roots and all. She hurls it across the street before finally giving in and allowing herself to burst into gut-wrenching sobs.
She is late for her shift at the hospital.
Tsunade takes one look at her and sends her home; it’s clear she’s completely unfocussed today. Ino lets her stay at her place that night and, thankfully, doesn’t say anything about Sasuke.
The next morning before returning home to apologise to her mother, Sakura goes back to the Uchiha district.
The heap of branches and vines is, by some miracle, still lying forlornly in the road.
Sakura carefully gets rid of the mutilated parts, and checks that the roots and stalk haven’t been too badly damaged. As she arranges splints to hold it up, Sakura tries not to feel like the tomato plant is some sort of analogy for her life.
八
The world is gearing up for war. No one marks Valentine’s Day this year.
Every morning, Sakura holds her picture of Team Seven close to her heart, and wonders what the future holds for her former teammates – and herself.
Every night, she dreams of a boy with black eyes and an injured soul, and fervently wishes she knew he was all right.
The gloves finally fit.
九
The war is over and life as she knows it has not ended.
In the last four months, every able-bodied man, woman, and child has been helping in the recovery process. Although there have been losses, the small circle of people who Sakura holds closest to her heart are all safe. She just wishes she could see them more often.
Naruto, in spite of his healing abilities, spends most of his time in and out of the hospital for physical therapy – when he isn’t busy training to eventually become Hokage.
“I saved the damn world, I shouldn’t have to study anymore, believe it!” he complains constantly, much to the amusement – and quickly, annoyance – of anyone who will listen.
Kakashi is busy actually being the next Hokage which Sakura finds hilarious. She thinks he’s spending most of his free-time teaching Naruto so that he can get out of the job as quickly as possible.
And Sasuke…
He’s in prison.
He’s been there since the end of the war. As soon as the Infinite Tsukuyomi was dispelled and the disoriented shinobi from all the different nations were cared for, he surrendered himself willingly to Konoha’s justice without even knowing if they would execute him or not.
The Raikage is still bombarding Kakashi with extradition demands, but they’ve become weekly instead of daily, so that’s something.
As overjoyed as Sakura was with Sasuke’s return home, it was nothing like she pictured the event would be when she was young. Instead of strolling through the gates supported by herself and Naruto, Sasuke was led through in chains, a binding seal on his eyes. Instead of the village welcoming him home with open arms, suspicion and judgement fell on him from all corners.
Even worse, he deserves it and she knows it.
It feels like such a betrayal – worse than that day when she made up her mind to kill him. She can’t blindly support what he did the way she might’ve when she was twelve. Hell, she couldn’t even bring herself to visit him for that first month.
Seeing Sasuke again after everything was hard. From the first night after defeating Kaguya, Sakura was plagued by nightmares. Not of the battle itself, but of the genjutsu that Sasuke placed her under. It was stronger than anything she’d ever encountered, multilayered and complex, and the trial she went through just to break herself out of it – she still feels a little sick at the memory.
It took her a full month and many one-on-one sessions with Tsunade to completely separate her real memories from what happened to her while under the illusion. In the process of unravelling the mental trauma, she even discovered an unexpected side effect: a sudden understanding about what Sasuke underwent as a child.
He was subjected to his brother’s Tsukuyomi not once, but twice. Without knowing what was happening or having anyone to help him through it afterward, he coped with the trauma in the only ways he knew how – by shutting everyone out and seeking out someone powerful enough to ensure he’d never become a victim again.
It’s no wonder he was never able to care for her with all that taking up space in his head.
Growing up, Sakura always thought Sasuke’s relationship with Naruto was just some immature childhood rivalry – boys fight about the same stupid stuff that girls do. She resented it, too, because he cared more about measuring his abilities against Naruto than acknowledging her. Now, though, she understands that it’s the only kind of relationship he had the capacity for. Whatever Itachi did to him, it stamped out any understanding he has ever had of the way normal friendships and relationships are supposed to work. Everything had to be framed as a struggle, and to him, a rival made more of an impact than a friend, or even a lover.
And yet, even knowing that he may never be able to see her as anything but his former teammate, Sakura can’t stop loving him.
And that’s fine, really.
Lady Tsunade never married after she lost her lover, but it didn’t stop her from becoming the most powerful kunoichi in the world. Sakura still hopes Sasuke will return her feelings, but unlike when she was twelve, it isn’t her only dream. She might not be destined to become Hokage, but there’s so much she can do for the world on her own.
And to start, she intends to make sure that what happened to her precious comrades – Sasuke, Naruto, Kakashi, and anyone else left orphaned by circumstance – will never happen again.
So, if Sasuke never left, she never would’ve discovered her ultimate purpose. Once she realised that, it made it easier to finally visit him.
Not that he’s technically allowed visitors, but Sakura’s status as Tsunade’s apprentice opens doors. And if it didn’t, the fact that she’s one of the new generation of Sannin who helped to save the planet would.
It doesn’t happen very often – there’s so much work to do at the hospital, and so many relief missions being outsourced these days. She’s never allowed in without an escort because, she suspects, the Elders worry that perhaps one of Sasuke’s old teammates might try to break him out of prison or something.
And, of course, the visits themselves are hardly typical.
Sasuke remains bound completely, blinded by a seal, and tightly secured in a way that makes her sick to see, even if she understands the necessity.
(Even if that small, still-healing part of her is glad for it.)
He never speaks, but he does listen when she talks. She knows he does because she spent her childhood talking at him, and she recognises the signs when he’s listening or when he’s ignoring her. Sometimes, she closes her eyes and imagines they aren’t surrounded by bars in a cold, dank basement. It’s not quite like the old days, but it’s something.
Which is why, on Valentine’s Day, Sakura thinks nothing of heading to the prison with a bag of goodies, feeling a whimsical sense of nostalgia.
She’s a frequent enough visitor nowadays that, even if she wasn’t the Hokage’s apprentice, they’d let her in. Ibiki just rolls his eyes while the guards tease her good-naturedly. Many of them are also still recovering from wartime injuries, and she’ll usually stop to chat with them or offer treatment suggestions when she has the time.
Today, she offers them each small boxes of chocolate because, working down here, it’s not like they’re accessible to the people who care about them.
“Just make sure you pay it forward and treat your sweethearts well next time you see them,” she chides good-naturedly. “They have to put up with you, after all.”
Pleasant laughs and light-hearted protest follow, and then Sakura submits to the usual protocol. They check her belongings for contraband or (ridiculously enough) poison, and then she’s wandering through the dank basement to the cell where Sasuke is being kept.
She thinks that Sasuke perks up when he hears her gait, but it’s dark down here and she doesn’t possess a Sharingan…just an overactive imagination.
“Hello, Sasuke,” she greets softly, waving even though he can’t see it. “How are you?” As if he would answer her honestly or at all. “Is there anything you want me to check for you?”
She’s the only person he’ll allow to see to his health, whether it’s to examine the remnants of his arm, or ensure that he isn’t getting sick from the damp cell conditions. The stubborn fool actually refused medical care the entire month she didn’t come see him which she promptly yelled at him for.
She thinks he was a little surprised at that, a fact which fills her with no small amount of satisfaction.
“Well, all right. But the minute you notice something doesn’t feel right, you tell me, okay? I don’t want to see another infection in your arm.”
Silence.
“I can’t actually stay very long today,” she tells him apologetically. “There’s a backlog of patients. Mostly stomach trouble. I think there’re too many guys eating sweets.” She chuckles lightly, noting him cock his head in question. “Valentine’s Day, you know?” His mouth makes a familiar, reflexive downturn and her eyes soften. “I guess that’s one upside to being in here, right? No one to bother you with unwanted chocolate.”
There’s no point in mentioning that, these days, she’s the only one who would consider getting Sasuke a gift.
“Speaking of,” she goes on, reaching for the contain of tomatoes she brought with her. “I actually did bring you something, for old times’ sake. I think you probably haven’t had any in a while.”
She holds one of the plump fruits out to him before she fully considers the situation. Then she freezes, fingers hovering inches from his lips, suddenly unsure of herself.
Idiot! He can’t see what you have – and even if he could, he hates being useless! Way to remind him that he’s basically dependant on everyone these days!
Not to mention that feeding another person is kind of intimate. She’s immediately conscious of her increasing heart-rate and has to take a stabilising breath.
Stop it. There’s no ulterior motive here. It’s very simple. Sasuke can’t use his hands, so I have to help him – just like that time when Naruto couldn’t feed himself. It doesn’t have to mean anything.
“Open your mouth,” she tells him, and even with her brain giving her logical arguments, Sakura can’t help the flood of warmth to her cheeks. She can just imagine the expression he would be giving her – confused and suspicious – if not for the blindfold.
Just when she thinks he’s going to keep ignoring her and she’ll have to convince him, he does as she’s asked.
Before she loses her nerve, she presses the fruit to his lips and he carefully bites down. A lone rivulet of juice runs down the corner of his mouth as Sasuke emits a definite noise of surprise – possibly even pleasure – and Sakura feels a giddy sense of accomplishment.
“Not too sweet, right?” she asks him nervously as he slowly continues chewing. “They shouldn’t be. This type isn’t supposed to be sweet and all, and I picked them early enough, so they’re only just ripe. I was just surprised there were any. I mean, so much of the Uchiha district is just rubble now, but this little plant managed to survive it. Against all odds!” She smiles even though he can’t see it. “Want another one?”
“Hm.”
In anyone else, that would just be a vocalisation, but Sasuke might as well have just waxed poetic. Sakura’s smile becomes a beam of joy, and the reaches for another tomato.
She doesn’t let him eat all of them – he’s on a restricted diet, and she doesn’t want to make him sick – but she promises to give them to his jailor to include with his dinner rations.
“I’ll bring some more next time,” she tells him, standing up. “I’ve got to go now though, so…”
She trails off, and as expected, he has nothing to say.
Her happiness ebbs a little at this, but she shrugs it off. It’s Sasuke, and she’s already gotten more from him today than she would expect.
As she slips back through the iron door, though, the silence of the cell is broken.
“Sakura…” His voice is gravelly from disuse, making her stomach do a queer little flip and a chill climb up her spine. “Thank you.”
The way he says it, she knows it’s not just the tomatoes he’s grateful for. And unlike the first two times he’s said these words to her, she isn’t crying.
She smiles into the darkness and tells him, “You’re welcome.”
Maybe there’s hope for the future after all.
十
Sakura is busier than she has ever been in her life.
Setting up a children’s mental health clinic is a lot more difficult in practice than on paper, and considering the lack of resources, tasks which should take weeks end up taking months. She can’t remember the last time she fell asleep without planning out what problems she has to fix the next day.
Kakashi is as helpful as he can be, considering how much paperwork he gets buried in every day. And Naruto is usually busy shadowing him, learning protocols and proper Hokage etiquette. Besides, organisational skills are not his strong suit.
Sasuke has been gone for almost a year.
Even though he’s no longer out in the world seeking revenge, his absences is still keenly felt. Sakura tries to comfort herself with the fact that at least this time, they are communicating. They exchange letters, but they aren’t the kind she secretly still hopes for. They’re sporadic at best, and only to check in; there are no lyrical descriptions of the places he visits or heartfelt declarations of love. Sometimes, he asks her for advice about local herbs that can be used as remedies, and he always ends the note with an assurance that he is fine.
She never really expected Sasuke to be the love-letter type, but sometimes, she wishes that he might give her some indication of whether they’ll ever have more than this odd, holding-pattern friendship. The closest indication of affection she’s gotten from him since his release from prison is a puzzling tap on the forehead.
It’s a little frustrating, to say the least.
Valentine’s Day comes around once more, and Sakura makes her rounds to all the men in her life, out of habit more than anything else.
It’s the first year she gives anything to Sai, who asks if he’s supposed to pay her back in sexual favours. Ino is not happy with that, and yet for some reason, it’s Sakura who gets yelled at. It’s even more unfair because by now, Sakura’s a pretty good judge of when Sai is really confused or just fucking with people. She has a suspicion about her two friends, but until she gets more confirmation, she just lets it go.
Later during the day, she goes shopping with Hinata to help her pick out the right gift for Naruto. The Hyūga heiress is even more blatantly obvious about her romantic feelings than Sakura ever remembers being, but she’s also painfully shy. And Naruto is painfully clueless.
In the end, Sakura ends up giving him both her and Hinata’s gifts together, as if they’re both just gifts for a friend. Hinata is obviously upset with herself, but she thanks Sakura for her help all the same, and Sakura tells her not to worry about it.
“By next year, we’ll work up that confidence and you can give him chocolate all by yourself,” she teases, but it’s all in fun.
She’s not sure which is worse – being in love with someone who knows about your feelings and doesn’t return them, or being in love with someone who doesn’t even see you as a woman. Either way, she and Hinata are in the same boat.
Maybe we should start a support group…
She doesn’t send anything to Sasuke.
There would be no point. She doesn’t want to expose his location if he’s on a reconnaissance mission, and she doesn’t think he would appreciate the gesture these days anyhow. Gifts from a hopeless romantic probably don’t really fit into his mission of redemption.
Tomatoes don’t ship too easily by air, after all. Especially by the ornery little hawk Sasuke always sends. The thing has a mouth like a bullhorn and the same imperious attitude as Ebisu.
Still, Sasuke or not, it’s part of her routine to check on the now substantial tomato plant in the Uchiha compound. The rest of the compound is still in ruins – Kakashi and Naruto are unwilling to do anything to the place until Sasuke gives some indication of his future plans – but her little addition is somehow still going strong.
Sakura only intends to check for weeds today and then head home, but upon kneeling down to get started, she finds something unexpected. Sitting within the vines of the plant itself, and clearly not there by accident, is an unwrapped white box. It’s identical to the one she found on her windowsill so many years ago.
Fingers trembling, Sakura looks around, wondering if perhaps someone is playing a cruel joke on her. When she senses no one nearby, she picks up the box and very slowly opens it.
Her breath catches in her throat at the sight.
Nestled in the centre is a tiny, white gold pendant, moulded into the familiar shape of an uchiwa.
There is no card, nothing besides the charm, and yet it’s clear – just as it was with the gloves – who is responsible for this and who it is meant for. Sakura tears up a little because the idea of Sasuke doing something like this is foreign, but so very much welcome.
It doesn’t exactly clear up their relationship – in fact, it makes it more complicated and confusing – but for the first time in a long time, it’s hope.
And she’ll take that over anything else, any day.
終わり
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