Just sharing the one-shot story about Sakura Haruno and Shisui Uchiha. I’ve been keeping this to myself for a long time and decided to share it.
(Sakura Haruno x Shisui Uchiha — jealous Shisui, stubborn Sakura)
Part 1 — The Cold Shoulder
Sakura noticed it the way you notice a bruise you didn’t remember getting—small at first, then impossible to ignore.
It started with the tiniest things.
Not with his usual lazy warmth, not with the soft tilt of his lips that made people feel like they belonged in the same room as him. He didn’t even do the casual nod he gave everyone else.
Sakura’s eyes followed him without permission. He moved like he always did—smooth, light-footed, calm—but his calm looked sharp today. Like a blade disguised as a smile that never arrived.
“Okay,” Sakura muttered under her breath, more to herself than anyone else. “We’re doing this.”
The mission hall was busy, loud with overlapping voices. Naruto was already at the counter complaining about some paperwork being “anti-fun.” Shikamaru looked dead inside. Ino and Choji were arguing softly about who ate whose snack.
Sakura was there, but her attention kept snapping back to Shisui.
He stood near a pillar, arms crossed, posture casual. Yet he wasn’t casual. His eyes didn’t wander the room like they usually did. They avoided one specific corner like it was cursed.
Sakura narrowed her eyes.
She wasn’t known for letting things slide. Not when they mattered. Not when someone she cared about suddenly acted like she was air.
She turned and made a beeline for him.
Sakura stopped directly in front of him. “Shisui.”
He blinked once, slowly, like her voice came from far away. Then he looked past her, gaze landing over her shoulder.
“Morning, Sakura,” he said, tone polite.
Sakura almost laughed. Because polite was worse than rude. Polite meant distance. Polite meant he was trying to be careful with something he didn’t want to touch.
“Are you serious?” she asked.
He shifted his weight. “About what?”
Her patience, already thin, stretched and cracked. “About pretending I don’t exist.”
Shisui’s jaw tightened—so fast she almost missed it. He didn’t like being called out. Not because he was guilty, but because he preferred solving things quietly. Silently. Like he could handle emotions the way he handled missions: with efficiency and control.
Sakura wasn’t built that way.
She leaned in slightly. “Did I do something?”
“I’m fine,” he said, still not meeting her eyes.
Sakura stared at him like he was an impossible medical chart. “You’re not fine.”
“You were busy yesterday too, and you still teased me for using too much ink on a report.”
Sakura felt something twist in her chest—annoyance first, then worry, then something sharper.
He’d never iced her out like this.
Not Shisui. Not the boy who always somehow had space for her even on days he was exhausted. Not the boy who’d once walked her all the way back to the hospital after a mission just to make sure she ate something other than ration pills.
“Shisui,” she said again, softer now, “look at me.”
Sakura’s hands curled into fists. “Okay. Fine. If you won’t talk to me here, you’ll talk to me later.”
Shisui’s gaze flickered to her for the first time. Just a glance. Quick. Controlled. His eyes were dark and unreadable, but something in them tightened—like he was holding back a storm.
“Don’t,” he said quietly.
Sakura froze. “Don’t what?”
His mouth opened like he was going to say something else, then shut again. He looked away.
“Don’t make this harder than it needs to be,” he finished.
Sakura’s temper flared in her throat. “Harder than it needs to be? I don’t even know what this is!”
Shisui exhaled. “Sakura… please.”
That “please” was the real punch.
Because Shisui didn’t beg. He didn’t plead. He didn’t sound like he was trying not to break.
Sakura swallowed, anger tumbling into confusion.
Then Naruto’s voice boomed across the hall. “Sakura-chan! We’re leaving in ten!”
Sakura didn’t look away from Shisui. “We’re not done.”
Shisui’s lips twitched like he wanted to say something teasing, something familiar, to soften the moment.
But his face stayed cold.
Sakura’s heart slammed once. “No, we’re not.”
He stepped around her, moving toward the exit with the rest of the group like she was a stranger.
Sakura stood there for a second, stunned.
Then she hissed, “Unbelievable.”
Ino jogged past her and slowed just enough to whisper, “Uh… did you two fight?”
Sakura’s stare stayed fixed on Shisui’s back. “Apparently. Without me.”
Ino’s eyes narrowed, sharp and interested. “He’s been weird all morning.”
Sakura’s jaw clenched. “I noticed.”
Ino leaned closer. “I saw him talking to Sasuke earlier.”
Sakura’s head snapped toward her. “What?”
Ino shrugged. “Not a friendly talk. Like… tense.”
Sakura’s pulse jumped. Sasuke. Shisui. Tense. Those words didn’t usually exist in the same sentence unless something serious happened.
Sakura didn’t waste another second.
—————————————————————————
The mission itself was simple. Escort. Border patrol. A job that should’ve been boring.
But Sakura couldn’t focus.
Shisui kept his distance like it was an assignment.
He walked ahead with Kakashi, speaking low. He responded to Naruto’s jokes with short hums. He answered Shikamaru’s strategy questions clearly.
He was only not normal with her.
Every time Sakura tried to slide into step beside him, he drifted away like she carried a poison cloud. Every time she asked something directly—“Do you want to take point?” or “Did you check the map?”—he answered without looking at her.
And it hurt in a way Sakura didn’t want to admit.
By midday, her restraint was hanging by a thread.
They stopped near a stream to rest. Naruto went off to throw rocks. Shikamaru lay down under a tree like the world was too loud. Kakashi read his book. Everyone scattered.
Shisui sat on a rock across the water, cleaning his kunai. Calm. Patient. Like he wasn’t wrecking Sakura’s sanity.
Sakura marched straight to him.
She stopped right in front of him, blocking his view.
Shisui’s hands paused mid-wipe.
Sakura crossed her arms. “Are you going to keep ignoring me or are you going to finally tell me what’s wrong?”
Shisui’s eyes lifted slowly.
There it was again—dark, controlled, too calm.
Sakura’s laugh was sharp. “Stop lying.”
He sighed, like he was tired of the conversation he refused to have. “Sakura…”
Sakura leaned forward. “No. Don’t ‘Sakura’ me. What did I do?”
Shisui’s gaze shifted slightly, as if searching for an exit. “You didn’t do anything.”
Sakura’s throat tightened. “Then why are you acting like I did?”
Sakura hated silence. Silence was what people used when they wanted to avoid responsibility. Silence was what people used when they were scared.
Shisui wasn’t supposed to be scared of her.
Her mind flicked through possibilities. Something happened. Someone said something. He heard a rumor. He misunderstood something.
She swallowed. “Did someone tell you something about me?”
Sakura’s eyes narrowed. “Oh. So yes.”
Sakura’s temper snapped. “Shisui, you can’t punish me for something you won’t even explain!”
His head jerked up at that—eyes suddenly sharp.
“Punish you?” His voice lowered, edged. “You think this is about punishment?”
“It feels like it!” she shot back.
The air between them tightened.
Shisui stared at her like he was trying to choose his next move carefully. Like one wrong step would trigger something he couldn’t control.
Sakura’s hands trembled—not from fear, but from frustration.
She pointed at him. “You don’t get to shut me out. Not when you’re—” she stopped, breath catching.
Not when you’re important to me.
Not when you’re the person I keep noticing even when I don’t want to.
Not when your smile is something I crave like sunlight after too many nights on duty.
Sakura didn’t say that part.
Something in Shisui’s gaze shifted, like he’d heard it anyway.
Sakura’s breath hitched. He was taller, his shadow falling over her. His expression was tight, controlled—but his eyes were too intense.
“No,” she said, voice shaking with stubbornness. “Not until you talk to me.”
Shisui’s hands curled into fists at his sides.
“Please,” he said again—so quiet it almost broke her. “Sakura, just… drop it.”
Sakura’s chest burned. “Why? Because you’re uncomfortable?”
The words weren’t spoken, but they felt like they slammed into the air.
Her brain tried to reject it immediately.
Shisui Uchiha—cool, composed, admired by half the village—jealous?
Sakura’s mind moved fast, too fast.
Ino said he talked to Sasuke earlier. Tense.
“Is this about Sasuke?” she asked, the words slipping out before she could stop them.
She took a step closer. “Shisui… is this because you think—”
“Don’t,” he said sharply, and it was the first time his voice truly sounded angry. Not cold. Angry.
Shisui’s nostrils flared. His gaze was fixed on her now, finally, like he couldn’t avoid her anymore.
Sakura’s heart pounded painfully. “Say it,” she demanded, voice trembling. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”
Shisui’s throat bobbed. He looked like he wanted to disappear.
Then he turned away, like he couldn’t stand being seen.
Sakura’s hands grabbed his sleeve before he could step back.
Sakura held on. “Don’t walk away from me.”
Shisui’s voice came out rough. “Sakura, let go.”
Sakura swallowed hard. “You’re acting like I betrayed you. I didn’t. So stop treating me like I did.”
Shisui’s breathing was heavier now. His control was fraying.
“Tell me,” she whispered, almost pleading now. “Please.”
Shisui’s eyes squeezed shut for a second.
When he opened them again, the storm finally cracked through the surface.
“Fine,” he said, voice low and shaking with something dangerous. “You want the truth?”
Sakura’s heart jumped. “Yes.”
Shisui turned to face her fully.
And the look in his eyes made her stomach drop.
Because it wasn’t just anger.
“Then listen carefully,” he said. “Because I’m only saying this once.”
