Rating: T
Fandom: Naruto
Relationship: Haruno Sakura/Uchiha Sasuke
Characters: Haruno Sakura, Uchiha Sasuke
With the Uchiha, Sakura had grown up. After the bloody battle in which her grandfather and father had lost their lives and the Haruno clan had met its end, what at the time was only a little girl of not even six years old was welcomed within the castle walls as a guest, as a hostage.
Initially it had been necessary to prevent those still loyal to the Haruno from taking her into custody and thus claiming rights to the territories which had once belonged to the clan and that, following defeat, had been annexed by the Uchiha.
Then, as the years passed whatever semblance of influence her name might still have had had waned, largely due to the swift and steep rise of the Uchiha clan, which could now boast control of ten of the largest provinces in the entire country, the only ones able to rival against the current ruling family.
She was no longer a valuable hostage, but despite this she had continued to live in the castle, actively participating in everything related to the clan but never really being a part of it. Ostracized and estranged, Sakura had longed to be able to feel that she belonged to something, that she was not a single particle of something which now no longer existed, floating in nothingness, with no ties, no identity.
The possibility of being welcomed and accepted, rather than simply tolerated, had manifested itself when she had shown marked skills in combat and, with them, a desire to be able to learn, the latter ignited initially by the futile and childish motivations of a little girl eager not to lose her playmate once she reached the age when their gender difference would inevitably lead them to entertain themselves with distinctly opposite activities.
When one is a child, clans, territories, politics and power do not matter. She and Sasuke were not members of what had once been enemy clans. Sakura was not his prisoner. Sasuke did not see her as a means to be used. They were just kids, peers who lived in the same castle and therefore had naturally sought each other out and united, in the most spontaneous way possible.
"Why did you summon me?" The dark-haired was behind her back, thus purposefully choosing not to show her his figure, his face. Sakura was gracefully seated on the floor, knees bent and sitting composedly on her heels. Her gaze was turned before her.
"I heard about the request you made," Sasuke explained, although those words contained no real elucidation.
It was only natural the news would quickly reach his ears. The choice to train as a warrior naturally had implications, namely that those skills of hers would sooner or later be made available to the clan. Not that Sakura had anything against this. To fight and die for something would have meant being a part of it, feeling finally integrated, respected.
And she had done so by demonstrating great prowess in her exploits, distinguishing herself on more than one occasion on the battlefield, proving herself several times essential to achieving victory. This had secured her a certain fame, as well as the favor of Madara Uchiha, the current head of the clan. Probably having grown up in the castle had been essential to that last point, for the man's policy had roots precisely in the importance of relying on what was near and known, distrusting instead the rest. Sakura was not an Uchiha by name or blood, but alienated from what was outside the clan she had grown up with those precepts, so harpooned by the only reality she knew that she became loyal to the core. The affection accrued for certain family members, Sasuke especially, had only fostered the entrenchment of what would arose in any case, something which obviously those who ruled the clan could take advantage of.
"That doesn't answer my question, though," Sakura retorted, clenching her fists against her knees. The past few months had not been particularly easy. Not only were they in the midst of a siege which, if successfully ended, would guarantee them a crushing and essential victory, the annexation of new territory, and a new step toward total supremacy, but the dark-haired's behavior was proving unpleasant and confused.
It seemed almost as if the closer Sakura came to what she had been craving since childhood, the chance to have her own identity, the more Sasuke decided to distance himself from her, perhaps even unknowingly. That was why she had requested of Madara Uchiha that her position be changed, that she could leave the siege to join the army to the west, assembled for battle. And that was why being summoned by the dark-haired had taken her by surprise.
"You cannot make these kinds of decisions without consulting with me." At his words, Sakura barely tilted her head sideways, not sufficient to make out even part of his figure, but enough to show she was listening to him and that what she was hearing did not please her at all. "I'm in charge of this army. Not you."
"I never questioned this." She could not understand what the animosity shown by Sasuke stemmed from, when in the past they had been so close. It was a painful detachment but probably only for her. She had been extremely happy when with her small contingent she had been chosen to add to the troops under the dark-haired's command. The intimacy they had would have made the collaboration smooth and flowing. Or at least that was what she had believed and hoped. The reality of things was turning out to be quite different.
"You did that, bypassing me to address your foolish request directly to Madara." This was not a choice he could make without confronting the clan leader, so why would she let Sasuke intercede when she herself could have presented her proposal to the man? "He refused," the dark-haired then concluded, with what seemed to her to be a hint of satisfaction.
"Why?" Wasn't it more essential for the bulk of the forces to move into the open field, with a battle coming, than to stay there and take part in a siege whose outcome was now a foregone conclusion? Sakura was a skilled warrior, not to mention that her contingent could boast just under three thousand men; no small addition which could have sealed the fate of the battle.
"Because I told him it’s necessary for you to remain here," Sasuke explained, with the naturalness and resolve of one who was convinced of his words, of one who was certain he was acting in the right.
"Why, Sasuke?" asked Sakura again, unable to appear indifferent and composed, unable to prevent perplexity and annoyance from oozing through her words, from imbuing her tone of voice. "The siege is now in its last throes. You have already won, you don't need me here."
"That is not for you to decide. You are not here to strategize, to determine how and where to deploy warriors. You are here to fight." It almost seemed as if Sasuke was deliberately trying to provoke her, to make her lose her temper to the point of exploding.
"There is nothing to fight here," she pointed out to him, still keeping her fists clenched. It was not easy to remain completely still when her mood was altered. She longed to move, to give vent to her frustration with gestures rather than flaunt stiffness and composure.
"I don't care about your opinion. The decision is made and irreversible," Sasuke sanctioned, as lapidary as he was detached, really like a general intent on giving orders to one of his subordinates and not even one of valor, one to be preserved, but as if she were a soldier of the lowest possible rank.
"Why are you doing this, Sasuke? What have I done to you?" As was to be expected, Sakura was unable to maintain the detachment which with gestures the dark-haired himself had demanded, almost as if their bond was worthless, as if it had never existed. It was impossible for her, just as it was inconceivable to let him speak to her like that without asking for an explanation, to allow their relationship to slip away without confronting him before giving up.
"You overestimate yourself if you think there is something personal behind my decision. It's pure military strategy." At that point, not blurting out completely for the pink-haired was unimaginable. In fact, heedless of manners, composure and etiquette, Sakura got to her feet, turning to face the man standing behind her.
"Is that why you won't even look me in the face while talking to me?" Some of her anger and resentment faded as she found herself mirrored in those familiar dark eyes. Only for a few moments, however, as her anguish easily regained the upper hand when Sakura discerned anything but indifference in them, as if he felt nothing at all.
"I don't need to look at your face to give you orders. We are not equals. I ask and you obey." It seemed to her that she was looking and listening to a complete stranger, someone she was unable to recognize. That was not the Sasuke with whom she had grown up, with whom she had shared childhood and youth, joys and sorrows, frivolities and ideologies. That was not the Sasuke who would sneak into her room on stormy nights to hold the hand of the little girl terrified of painful memories resurfacing. He was not the Sasuke who had planted a cherry tree for her in the castle gardens so the pink of the petals might no longer make her feel so unique as to be an outsider. He was not the Sasuke who, on the evening before their first battle, had given Sakura her naginata as a gift together with her first kiss, with the promise that the next day they would see each other and find each other again, unharmed and safe. The Sasuke with whom she had been madly in love seemed to have vanished. In those cold, detached eyes there was not even a hint of him.
"What happened to you?" A question addressed more to herself than to the dark-haired and one she certainly did not expect him to answer. In fact, Sakura merely lowered her gaze, her fists still clenched in anger, but this time employing all her strength to keep the tears from streaking her face.
"I just understood the way of our world. It's time you began to do so too, Sakura," he pronounced her name in a way too familiar, too intimate; a mistake he evidently realized himself. The young pink-haired lifted her gaze abruptly, managing to catch just in time the slight lapse Sasuke had unintentionally fallen victim to and was quickly recovering from.
"What is this supposed to mean?" She decided that perhaps pressing the issue might lead him to surrender completely, to return to expressing himself to her as he had once done, intimately and naturally, aware that no one would be able to understand him, and perhaps hearten him, more than Sakura.
"I have finished with you. You can go," Sasuke sanctioned, again shrugging off the indifference he had displayed up to that moment, quickly leaving behind that semblance of humanity he had demonstrated, as if it had never happened.
"You may force me to stay, Sasuke, but you cannot impose me to stay away from you, to stop asking you for explanations. If you won't talk to me, if you won't even look at me, if you no longer have an ounce of respect for me, why don't you just let me go? Free yourself of my tedious presence and free me of what you have become." So that she could at least treasure what had been, keep that precious memory in her heart, without being corrupted by coldness, indifference and a resentment which she never thought could ever arise between them.
"I can't," the dark-haired concluded, frowning and curving his lips downward, evidently as vexed with himself as he was with her. "So stop making things harder and grow up."
"Am I the one who needs to grow up, between us? Or perhaps is the one who doesn't even have the courage to speak plainly to me, preferring to hide behind his rank, making a shield of his name and position to treat me as just another servant, as if that could erase—"
"What do you know about courage, Sakura?" he asked her, approaching her with a gesture so quick that she could barely feel the air shift, cupping her face between the fingers of his right hand, voluntarily trapping her jade irises with his own. "It is so much easier to be the one standing there judging and criticizing, heedless of what is going on around. It’s the other who has the hard choice. It’s the other who must have the courage to act for the best of both."
Sakura was taken aback not only by the swiftness with which he had reached her or the sudden closeness of their bodies, but also and especially by his words, which were as enigmatic in meaning as they were explicit. Grow up, he had just told her. And for Sasuke, growing up meant accepting the reality of the world in which they lived, where rules and precepts trumped instincts and feelings, where the continual pursuit of power, where honoring one's clan, was all that required their efforts, all that they had to vow their existence to.
Sakura had always been convinced she was ready for it, that it was all she wanted, that she needed nothing more than to feel she could belong to something, that her own efforts could prove useful to someone, that her worthiness, her existence as an individual, would be recognized.
"That is not courage," she whispered to him, bringing her hands to his chest, tightening her fingers around the fine fabric of his dark kosode. "It's resignation."
Almost as if moved by some unknown force which guided his gestures more than reason did, the dark-haired leaned forward a few inches, close enough to brush her face with his warm breath. Sakura closed her eyes, begging her body and soul not to delude itself with shivers of anticipation of something the man before her, the Sasuke he had become, could not and wouldnot grant.
"Resign yourself, too, then." And immediately after uttering those words, that sentence, Sasuke turned away from her, again sanctioning distance, condemning her to that sense of emptiness, to the coldness which his reticence inflicted on her entire figure, almost as if without the warmth the dark-haired could offer her, her blood refused to circulate.
Abandoned and alone, Sakura watched him walk away, distancing himself with body and heart, determined to continue according to what he had stubbornly imposed on himself and what he was selfishly forcing on her, pretending it was a last act of love and not simply the cowardice of a man unable to demand what he most viscerally desired.
"I will," the pink-haired assured him, whose little newfound resolve could not at all overpower and conceal her being hurt, upset, and anguished not only for herself, for the pain she was the one to feel, but also for the torment Sasuke was inflicting on himself, shouldering the burden he believed he had to bear and do so alone, without her. "If you will let me leave."
Sasuke suddenly stopped, yet continued to have his back to her. He was willing to distance himself from Sakura, to treat her with detachment and sufficiency, but he was equally not ready to deprive himself of her completely. Keeping her there within his grasp, yet without really seeking her out. To satisfy at least part of his innermost needs, even at the cost of inflicting on her the pain which having him there without really having him was causing her. And if Sasuke had chosen that path, Sakura would force him to walk it all the way, without shortcuts, without loopholes, without even the slightest smear.
"Do as you wish," the dark-haired granted her, after moments of silence, long instants of hesitation and doubt. She had naively hoped he would retrace his steps, that the clean and final cut was too much even for him, and that he would therefore choose to end the bosh. Instead, Sasuke had not wavered, sanctioning his decision by walking away and leaving her alone in that room, just as she would be from then on.
Sakura never imagined that, sooner or later, she would find herself seated at a war council, as a silent but welcome guest of a feudal lord. Not that she did not possess the merits, but whatever others might say, Sakura was not a fool and was not completely unaware of what an unpleasant reality the world she lived in was.
She was a woman. She was a skilled warrior, sure, a convenient and useful addition to one's army, but that was not enough to make her in the eyes of the men who daily surrounded her an equal to them. In fact, seated at the same table, they looked at her with suspicion, some even outraged at having to share that space with her, almost as if their lord was mocking them.
Seated at the head of the table, Madara Uchiha seemed to be untouched, as if the constant stares directed at him did not bother him in the least. Knowing him, that must really have been the case. He had never allowed the judgment of others to affect the way he ruled, following his own line, placing his decisions above those of anyone else. Whether others agreed or disagreed was irrelevant when it was his word which was absolute.
It was different for Sakura. She was unable to pretend the looks she received did not upset her. She felt tremendously out of place there and even found herself wishing the Uchiha clan leader had never summoned her.
They had been back in Otogakure no Sato for a little over a month, after their success against the combined forces of Senju and Uzumaki at the Battle of Amegakure no Sato, which had allowed the Uchiha to annex the area into their domains. The latter's power continued to grow by leaps and bounds, so it was not implausible to assume they would soon be able to oust the current ruling family, thus sanctioning the end of that war with the beginning of a new era.
"I propose the next move is to move directly on Hi no Kuni. After the resounding defeat, the Senju will have no way to defend themselves."
"I think we should first reorganize our forces. Now that we are certain we have the upper hand, we should not act rashly. The slightest mistake could be fatal to us."
"What mistake? Victory is now in our grasp! We must strike fast and hard, showing no mercy to the enemy! Only in this way will we ensure in the future no one will dare to face us."
Sakura naturally remained silent, listening to the exchange between the senior officers of the Uchiha army. Although she had been invited to participate, she was certain her own opinion should not be expressed and that certainly no one would be willing to listen.
Even Madara had chosen to tacitly assimilate the words of the other men present, expressionless and motionless, almost as if to give the idea he was not even present in the room. Yet the aura of authority emanating was impossible to ignore. It exuded from every fiber of his imposing and menacing figure, reaching out without fail to all present, and even the most massive men were intimidated by it, and no one dared to seek his gaze, even to seek approval.
"The Senju are not to be underestimated. How do you think they came to be the ruling family, despite all the insurrections of the last century?"
"Even they cannot hope to hold out any longer, not after—"
"I plan to seal a truce with the Senju." Everyone fell silent, hushed by the rumbling voice of the man seated at the head of the table. They appeared like frightened children, but that was before the implications of Madara's statement hit them, fostering astonishment and surprise.
"A truce— my lord?" Only one of them had the courage to ask, uncertain and hesitant. Perhaps he thought he had guessed wrongly, for there was nothing more unexpected than such a decision. It had been about four years since the conflict with the Senju had been going on, with occasional moments of respite, but with tempers always flaring. And the Uchiha had never been able to claim such a clear and overwhelming advantage as they did at that moment. An armistice was indeed unthinkable.
"I have already established contact with Hashirama. One of their representatives will be here in a few weeks," the clan leader continued, untouched by the looks of sheer bewilderment the men present ventured to reserve for him, as if their lord had been replaced by a mythological creature.
"But with the successful siege of Tetsu no Kuni there will be twelve provinces under our control. By now it can be said that the nation is ours—"
Sakura barely flinched from her position, fortunately without attracting anyone's gaze, without the witnesses being able to catch her discomfort, too caught up in the astonishment caused by that new twist. The end of the siege not only sanctioned a victory on the part of the Uchiha but also the imminent return of the troops stationed up to that moment near Tetsu no Kuni, that is, the contingent of the army that was led by Sasuke.
Their last discussion had been final and had sanctioned a definitive and irreversible parting of ways. They had never spoken again, and Sakura had left the siege to join the rest of the army and take part in the battle of Amegakure no Sato. A void which not even the time passed had been able to fill. Having now the knowledge what had been would never return, she had mistakenly believed that resigning herself would be easier. Instead, just evoking even the slightest memory of him was capable of inflicting a stabbing pain in her chest, more agonizing than any wound suffered on the battlefield.
Sakura was certain, however, that this would even be amplified once she and Sasuke found themselves in the same castle again. In those months apart, the dark-haired had been a constant thought, but not having him constantly nearby could be considered something of a palliative. With his presence everything would have been more complicated. Close and yet distant, Sakura would have to suppress the desire and need to make up for that imposed distance and still seek him out.
"It is," conceded Madara, still motionless and inscrutable, his arms joined to his chest. "That is why Hashirama has sought a truce, an agreement which will turn almost entirely in our favor."
If the right terms for a peace had been reached, Sakura was of the opinion it was right to pursue it, rather than to continue in a bloody conflict, suffering more loss of precious lives, only out of pride and desire to establish a hegemony based on terror.
"The Senju have never compromised so far and have never needed to seek alliances. It has always been others who have begged them for protection. What would be different this time? They may be in trouble, but they remain the ruling family. They have their honor. To grant peace without anything in return would undermine their dignity. It would be preferable to losing on the battlefield to this." Fugaku Uchiha was a man of few words, just like his son, so that he had expressed his thoughts with such minuteness and in such detail was unusual. So was the look, so quick as to appear unnoticed by anyone, which he reserved for her, before refocusing his attention on what was not only his lord but also his brother-in-law.
"An extremely correct analysis, Fugaku. However, not flawless. It just so happened in the past it was the Senju themselves who sought an alliance, and to this day the Uzumaki are the only ones who enjoy every privilege that being considered equal to the ruling family grants them."
"That was a single case. The only way the Senju use to establish that kind of bond is—"
"Marriage," Madara finished, interrupting one of the generals who had intervened in the speech. "With Hashirama's heir, his brother," he resumed, fostering the amazement of those present, whose eyes were now widened.
"We do not have enough valuable brides to warrant the respect of the Senju. They are just using this pretext to buy time with a false truce and attack us as soon as they are ready."
Madara Uchiha had never taken a wife and fathered neither sons nor daughters. Having no siblings, his direct heir was therefore his brother-in-law, the husband of his sister. Mikoto Uchiha was rumored to have been the clan's most coveted bride, and Sakura had no difficulty believing it, not only because of her beauty but also because of the position the man designated would hold. Two children had been born of that union, both boys, so there was no woman who could represent a marriage desirable and valuable enough to enshrine a peace with her existence alone. Those whose kinship was closer to the main branch of the clan were not enough for such a pledge.
"We have the most precious bride one could wish for instead. The Delight of Spring, the most beautiful flower which blooms on the battlefields." The realization of those words did not immediately strike her, but when it did it had the same impact as a bucket of icy water.
It was only natural that in the course of time Sakura had begun to acquire a certain fame among the armies and therefore was given epithets of all kinds, flattering and otherwise. A woman warrior was not, however, something recurrent in battle, so her presence was often easily recognized, thanks in part to her very distinctive features.
She understood, therefore, that Madara Uchiha was talking about her and imagined that was the only reason he had decided to allow her to attend the war council, along with the senior officers.
"She is not even an Uchiha, so why should he represent our clan with the Senju?" Words Sakura had heard directly or whispered behind her back which always managed to make her feel estranged and alone, never really part of anything.
"She grew up with us, fought with us. My sister loves her like a daughter, so it's time for her to act like one, with all the burdens which come with that. Sakura is part of the family, and if I have turned down every marriage proposal received for her, from those present included, it is precisely in anticipation of the arrival of a suitor suited to her value. I could never have wasted such beauty and strength on anyone who was not worthy of it."
Sakura lowered her gaze to her closed fists pressed against her knees. She had never really felt part of the Uchiha, so the clan leader's words should only have brought her joy. However, denting her happiness, her fulfillment at having succeeded at least in part in finding a place to belong, was the knowledge she would have to separate herself from the family she did not believe would ever consider her as such, that she would have to devolve her future to another person, to a man foreign to that core to which the pink-haired had vowed herself since childhood.
In her heart, then, there was only room for one name, one face, one individual. And it was only by his side that she would have wished to embrace the role of wife. Sakura had never considered such a chance feasible, so she had always ruled out the possibility of being able to marry in the future. It was not what she wanted, but now it was not what she could oppose. The role she had sought all her life had been established. If in order to consider herself part of something, an Uchiha, she had to sacrifice all of herself for the good of the clan, she would do it.
She was in her rooms, wrapped in a veil of sadness whose nature she knew but which she was trying to ignore, not to allow anything negative to poison her mind and risk dulling her judgment. Her wedding was to take place the next morning, thus marking the end of the conflict between Senju and Uchiha, along with the beginning of what was hoped would be a long and fruitful alliance, that the two clans could coexist as equals, sharing the power they had over the years mutually tried to wrest from each other's hands.
It was a night not freezing but cold enough to make her shiver on the porch. Still, she did not want to go back inside, did not want to slip between her sheets, did not want to allow sleep to take over, for the moment her eyes opened, she would be a new person, a protagonist of power intrigue. Before her would be a new road to travel. Behind her would be everything to which she would no longer belong.
She clutched herself in her night robe, letting a lonely tear line her face. The only relenting she could allow herself and only in the privacy of her own rooms, there where she would be for the last time, as dawn would bring with it a new home, a new name, a new life.
Whether she wanted to or not, her viridian eyes could not budge from the towering cherry tree which towered in the castle's inner gardens, among those avenues that held every memory of her childhood, every precious moment etched in her mind, in her heart, along with a face and a name.
"Sakura—" It almost seemed to her she could even hear his voice, as if her mind was playing a sadistic trick on her, reminding of all that had been and all that could never be again, just when those memories should have remained locked away in the deepest corners of her memory, sealed never to see the light again. "Sakura." When the pink-haired turned around, she could swear she was going crazy. She was not only fantasizing about his voice but even about his presence there.
Standing between her room and the veranda was Sasuke, his face distraught and his clothes unkempt, his raven hair tousled and his breath short. He had been running, indeed he looked as if he had just dismounted from his horse, as if getting to Otogakure no Sato rapidly was essential. Was this how her mind had decided to show him? She would have imagined the best way to torment her would be to mold him into a perfect form, ethereal and unreachable in all his usual glory. Instead, in that instant she found by projecting him in that way her mind had chosen the cruelest to torture her, wanting to instill in Sakura the idea that Sasuke would be ready to rush to her with desperate urgency in order to get there in time.
After a few moments of painful contemplation, Sakura closed her eyes, hoping once she opened them again that figure would no longer be there to haunt her, wishing instead that face would never leave her mind, that it would continue to obsess her to madness.
"Sakura— I came as soon as I could—"
"Don't. Please go away," she uttered in a barely audible whisper, a plea addressed to herself and to the sanity she was desperately trying to cling to but which seemed to slip away more and more every moment. "I know you are not here, that this is not you. The Sasuke you are now would not dare so much. He knows how to make the hard choice. He has already done so. Sasuke has grown up, he said I should too." Sakura opened her eyes, only to be greeted again by the vision of the one man who should not have been there and the one whose presence was her most burning desire. "I did."
"Don't do this to me now, as if I didn't feel miserable enough already." His tone was unrecognizable, but at the same time tinged with some shades of familiarity, such that it gave her the impression all those last years had been just one long dream and that both of them were still the children they used to be.
"This is you," she conceded to him, performing a bitter smile. "Bold enough to talk to me as if nothing had happened, as if you had done nothing, as if I were the cause of your sorrow and not vice versa."
"This—" began the dark-haired with unusual uncertainty, venturing a step toward her. "It’s not my fault. It's not my choice, it's not something I would ever consider." Now that he was completely on the veranda, Sakura could admire his face illuminated by the moonlight. Though tired and broken, Sasuke never lost the ability to take her breath and leave her speechless. "This is not what I want." At those words, the pink-haired turned completely toward him.
It had probably been years since Sasuke truly expressed what he wanted, that he did let his personal yearn corrode him, that he did not prioritize what concerned his clan, his honor, his duties.
"If we talked with Madara together, perhaps we could—"
"No," Sakura simply sanctioned, lapidary enough to leave the dark-haired speechless and perplexed. "It's my turn to do what's right, to make the hard choice." It was a fine line between what was necessary to bring that conflict to a peaceful end and what her heart fervently craved for. Sasuke must have known this. He had already been there and had acted according to his judgment. Now it was her turn. "I promised you if you let me go I would resign myself. And that's what I did. I could tell you that you left me no choice then, lay the whole blame on you and feed your desolation, but it’s not, Sasuke. This is now my decision."
Belonging to Sasuke had been natural, uncontrollable, and at the same time bothersome, painful, frightening, and unpredictable, for it lacked stability, the assurance that over time nothing would ever change. Pleasant and additive, dangerous and swinging. His mere presence managed to offer her a place to exist, not physical, not tangible, but the sensation her whole essence was real only because it was connected to another person's, to Sasuke's. However, it was a feeling as intense as it was fallible, capable of instilling an unparalleled wholeness except to fail in the blink of an eye. No one like him could lift her up and tear her down with such ease, and as much as belonging to anything other than him was a palliative, a consolation, it was something solid, with a foundation to cling to in the event of a disastrous collapse, so as to take away the unpleasant feeling she was floating in the unknown, aimless and nameless, with no identity.
"I choose to renounce you for the sake of my clan. And I have no regrets—" A break in her voice betrayed her, attempting to her resolve, her confidence, the firmness she was trying to express. "Despite everything, for nothing in the world would I deny what has been, even if it embitters what will be instead."
For several moments, what the two exchanged was only silence and a stare full of regret, of that affection they had never been able to get rid of mingling inexorably with the knowledge they would never be capable to express it, that it would remain there, unuttered and pulsing, a constant reminder of what they could have had if only they had led different lives, if they had been born in a more benevolent age.
Then, Sasuke advanced one step toward her and then one more, until he was so close to her he enveloped her with his warmth, with his mere presence, real and tangible, proof he was there, that Sasuke, her Sasuke still existed somewhere in that man's soul and in that circumstance he had taken over, pushing him up to her, mad and senseless to the point of riding like a madman to get there in time.
"If only you could be mine—" He brushed her face with unusual gentleness, almost as if between the two of them it was he who feared Sakura might vanish at any moment, slip from his hands if only he dared too much impetuosity.
"I was." I am, she was risking saying, in a mad rush of irrationality. Half lie half truth. She would never be anyone else's as she was Sasuke's, and she would no longer be his as she had been willing to be.
"You can still be—" It was sadistic and masochistic to inflict her and inflict himself that stab in the chest, to instill a false glimmer of hope which they both knew would never be fulfilled. Closer and closer, the dark-haired leaned toward her, so near he inebriated her with his scent, so overwhelming he ignited every fiber of her being with his breath alone. "Just for tonight?" An invitation so tempting tasting, so sweet sounding, that the next morning it would turn into her worst regret. Not for what was about to happen, but for what would never be again.