Author’s Note: UPDATE 10/22: Due to some recent controversy of this chapter, minor changes were made to emphasize the reasoning behind Sakura’s actions. In no way, am I downplaying the seriousness of suicide attempts or making Sasuke out to be a toxic asshole. This is new for him and new for Sakura, and for more of my rational behind this chapter, visit my tumblr account to see my full response. With that being said, please read this version first, and if you can handle more, read the AO3 version. I understand that I cannot make everyone happy, and it’s not my intention to, but I do want to depict the seriousness of such topics with care. Other than that, I wipe my hands of this chapter. If you don't like the direction of this story, please let it go and try some other sasusaku fics who might do the characters more justice for you. Thank you.
CW/Important Note, PLEASE READ: There are two versions of this chapter. This is the edited, non-explicit version. This version is a more poetic, fade-to-black version that adheres to site rules and guidelines.
If you would like to read the full, unedited, absolutely unhinged-in-how-filthy-it-is version, visit my linktree anerdinallherglory, (located in my bio description) to find the link to the fic on AO3, where appropriate tags will be used. After reading the tags, you may have decided not to pursue reading that M version. I do believe that many would prefer this edited version, but I could be completely wrong for some.
!!BOTH VERSIONS have a depiction of a panic attack and intense emotions and discussion of a fake threat of suicide
*Songs for this chapter Black Sun by Death Cab for Cutie, The Hearse (Stripped) by Matt Maeson, Difficult by Billy Raffoul, Habits of my Heart by Jaymes Young, and Die Trying by Michl
Previous Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 37, 38
Chapter 39: On Behalf of the World
Sakura had been right. Kakashi had been positively miffed when Lady Tsunade and Sakura promptly reverse-summoned an entire group of ninja—via the slug express as Sasuke had so eloquently put it—and marched them all straight into his office at two-hours past sunrise. Kakashi and Shikamaru, who looked as if they had only recently returned themselves from their mini-vacation in Sunagakure, practically leaned over from behind each of their designated towers of late paperwork to drop their jaws in astonishment at the suddenly cramped room.
Sakura smiled guiltily, Sasuke ‘hmphed’ humorously, and Tsunade, who had insisted on coming along to see the Sixth’s reaction, cackled loudly and pointed a finger at Kakashi who, in return, frowned at the former Hokage with obvious envy about life on the other side of retirement.
Tsunade’s laughter grew louder when Sasuke didn’t hesitate to activate his Rinnegan and reveal another twenty-five fear-stricken members of Zenshin who clung to their reunited acquaintances. Sakura caught Sasuke’s eyes with her own when the newcomers recoiled from the Uchiha’s presence in obvious traumatic fear, and Sakura suddenly became highly suspicious that they had endured a torturous genjutsu for at least a small length of time before they had been ejected into another dimension.
Kakashi sighed loudly for all to hear and leaned back in his chair in disbelief at the increasing crowd of convicts. To Sakura’s amazement, they all looked down at their feet in the Hokage’s presence, even the loudest of them, quiet now that they were among five of the most powerful ninja in the Leaf Village. They hadn’t even met Naruto yet. They knew their inadequate skills and ninjutsu would get them nowhere here.
Sakura rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly as she pushed forward through the gathering of people who had been intent on killing her just twenty-four hours ago. Some sneered at her as she passed while the newcomers stared openly at her in shock. She felt Sasuke’s narrowed eyes on her back as she made her way through the pit of vipers.
“Please tell me you didn’t just bring fifty more criminals into my village,” Kakashi frowned at her. It was technically fifty-one, but she wasn’t going to add that additional number right now. It would have been fifty-two if they hadn’t woken up this morning to discover a member of Zenshin missing to the shadows of the Shikkotsu Forest. Toka had taken the risk after all, it seemed, rising at some point in the night to face the terrors within, gambling his life on the small likelihood he might survive the Forest for a chance at a future as a father. Sakura had silently wished him luck upon discovery, for Tabi’s sake, but she wasn’t going to be fool enough to provide him any sort of assistance—there was always the risk of him returning to whatever was left of Zenshin now, even though Sakura wasn’t too worried about it in the long run. She’d handle it as it came.
Kakashi continued his scowling reprimand. “I had thought at least half of this group would be going to Sunagakure when I signed off on that.”
When she placed the mentioned scrolls with each of their names and sentencing on his desk, and smiled again, saying, “I sort of gave them the choice,” Kakashi gave her the most affronted look he had ever given his student. She knew he was wanting to respond with something like ‘on whose authority?’ but then she saw his next train of thought cross his face, register behind his eyes, and evolve into acceptance with another resigned sigh. Team 7 was as close as Kakashi would ever get to having children; the three of them took advantage of their old sensei at every turn, especially since he became Hokage with much more influence at his disposal. Just when Sakura thought Kakashi would finally put one of Team 7 in their place, Sakura could practically see when Kakashi weighed the request and caved like an overfond parent, deciding that there was very little he wouldn’t do for the three ninja he had almost lost at one point or another in the past.
He pulled Sakura’s scroll across the desk like it was the heaviest thing in the world, unfurling it slowly, as if he dreaded the finality of the contents inside.
“I don’t know why you’re laughing Tsunade, since it says here that all twenty-seven—” he looked up at the assembly Sasuke had revealed—“double that, now—are to attend the Mental Health Clinic you are currently in charge of. In addition to any medical attention they might need beforehand.”
The laughter did stop then as Tsunade opened her mouth and swung her head in Sakura’s direction, obviously not aware of that particular clause in Sakura’s sentencing. Shikamaru laughed under his breath when the Fifth released a sigh to compete with the current Hokage’s.
Sakura just giggled lightly, continuing to blush deeply and smile guiltily at her two former masters. “Um, well I will definitely help with that this evening, Lady Tsunade. I’d like to check up on Isao, as well. He did make it back here with you guys, correct?” She easily got distracted when her mind wandered to a patient she cared deeply for. And it was Isao, the young boy she had gotten quite attached to over the past few months; she hadn’t been this emotionally invested in a while. It was easy to spiral when her work was involved, and Sakura sometimes found herself completely forgetting everyone else present.
“One thing at a time,” Kakashi sighed, turning to Shikamaru, who flinched under the Hokage’s sudden attention. It usually meant that he was about to have work to do—work that the Hokage was redirecting to him, and Sakura silently wondered to herself how anything got done between the two. And then she was thinking of Naruto, the soon-to-be Hokage-in-training, and was suddenly overcome with agita at the future ping-pong match of responsibility between the two laziest ninja of their year as Shikamaru continued his duty of chief aide to the Hokage.
“Shikamaru, please escort this caravan to the prison-hold, for now. Arrange for them to be brought food and water, and whatever basics can be provided for them while we assemble a team of medics to see to them. I’ll have to think of where to house and facilitate them in the meantime. Lady Fifth, do you mind assist—”
“Yeah, yeah, I got it,” Tsunade sighed, and Sakura laughed awkwardly at the former Hokage’s inability to take orders since she had been so used to dishing them out for five years. “Come on kid, let’s get this over with,” she said to Shikamaru, and he slowly rose to his feet with a sigh, mumbling something about his unfortunate lot with Hokages.
“This way,” Shikamaru waved them all behind him and they filed out after him like ants, Tsunade on their heels. They must have heard the rumors of the Fifth’s temper and strength, then, Sakura thought, as nobody took a step out of line. Sakura couldn’t believe her luck as a few of them even looked back to her for reassurance, fear of the change in warden crossing their features. On her way out the door, Tsunade gave Sakura the ‘You’ll-be-following-shortly-to-help-with-this’ look, and Sakura nodded out of the teenage habit of student compliance.
This left Sakura alone with a silent, brooding Sasuke in the back of the room, and a silent, exhausted Kakashi at the front. Sakura suddenly felt like an uncomfortable sandwich.
She cleared her throat as Kakashi stood and made his way around his desk to stand before her, placing a hand on her shoulder, a different, relieved sort of sigh escaping this time. “I’m glad to see that you are okay.”
Sasuke immediately scoffed to himself at that declaration, an ejection of air from his nose, and Sakura and Kakashi both looked over at him as he stood perched against the wall as still as if he hadn’t just made a noise at all.
Kakashi looked back to her, gripping her shoulder encouragingly before releasing her altogether. “Sometimes I miss the girl who fainted multiple times during that first bell test—where has she gone? She certainly isn’t before me, now. Hasn’t been for years.”
Sakura wanted to laugh at that and tell her sensei that if she remembered correctly, she was fainting because she thought Sasuke had been hurt and would probably do so again under more authentic life-threatening circumstances if they occurred in the future. And that she was still prone to fainting spells if she got worked up enough. But her sensei was giving her a compliment right now and she didn’t feel like reminding him otherwise at the moment. She smiled and thanked her sensei.
“Is this all of them?” he asked. “Is the situation finally settled?”
“Not quite,”Sakura confessed. “I never learned the exact number, but we might have more luck with interrogations this time. I do know that there’s still someone out there—a man named Mozai, and who knows how many more.”
“Gaara got the same name from the Shade,” the Sixth declared, and Sakura’s eyes widened, not ever having expected the Shade to be the one to give that up. Mako hadn’t been given the name at all. “We thought he was the leader at first.”
“So did I, until Mako told me otherwise,” Sakura confirmed, but remembered her shock when Mako had told her that the organization worked in cells similar to the Akatsuki, the Shade being in charge of those who had attacked her back in the deserts of Suna.
“We can investigate it further and send a team to handle it this time,” Kakashi reassured her. “In the meantime, I’m just glad the two of you are home.”
“No need. I’m sure they’ll either disappear or come for me eventually. And if I could handle the others, I’m sure I can handle a few more when the time comes.”
Kakashi raised an eyebrow, and she caught him glance over to Sasuke, whose stare she could feel straight into her back.
She cleared her throat, “If that’s everything sensei, can I be excused? I just want to check on Isao now.”
Kakashi nodded emphatically, gesturing for Sakura to go ahead and take her leave. She turned quickly, making eye contact with Sasuke before she made to exit. He wasn’t moving to follow her, and Sakura realized suddenly that he was intending to hang behind to talk to Kakashi on his own. Her stomach turned a little at that, wondering what he might have to say without her, but he nodded and boldly said, “I’ll find you afterwhile.”
And her mood instantly lifted, and she nodded back, trying not to grin stupidly in the presence of an everwatching sensei who always knew more than he should. It was like if Sakura smiled, then Kakashi’s sharingan-less eyes could still see straight through her like a parent who knew their child was keeping a secret. She cleared her throat and left them, saving her face-splitting smile for the hallway as she skipped to find Isao.
Kakashi was back to sighing when Sakura left, and Sasuke’s eyes landed on him like sharp kunai. In contrast to Sakura’s ten-year change since the Bell Test, Sasuke was giving Kakashi that same hateful stare that made Kakashi reminiscent of the relentless youth who had always been determined, always had a purpose, and never really cared whether he came off as rude to anyone else. Kakashi was used to this Sasuke—had dealt with him a few days ago in the presence of the Kazekage.
“If I have to watch someone who I love die, sacrificing themselves for the sake of the Leaf Village, again, the person who I am now won’t survive it. What’s left of the shinobi world will either fall to the Otsusuki race in my absence, or it will fall to the person I will become. That will be its fate if you keep me here and she dies, Kakashi.” Those were the words Sasuke had used to manipulate the Hokage and Kazekage both when the Uchiha was being retained against his will. When Sasuke had uttered such words before the very ninja who had given him another chance, Kakashi had felt like a stone of foreboding had fallen into the pit of his stomach.
After Sasuke had been allowed to leave, a very tense discussion followed. Gaara had raised his concerns once again about Sasuke, to which Kakashi had no immediate response, because Kakashi, himself, didn’t know if Sasuke would ever be capable of turning on them all once more. He was unpredictable, the Uchiha. His attachments either tethered him to goodness or dropped him right into the depths of darkness. Kakashi had believed Sasuke to be returned for good, had taken up his self-sacrificial role of a journey of atonement in order to ensure that no threat could be posed to the shinobi world again. But Sasuke’s response to the situation with Sakura contradicted his very goal, didn’t it? Where did his allegiances lie? Who could guarantee that Sasuke would never fall again?
Naruto had apologized to both Gaara and Kakashi on his behalf, saying, “You don’t have to worry. He doesn’t mean that. He’s just upset and concerned. He and Sakura, they’re—”
“Don’t make excuses for him Naruto,” Gaara had responded. “Threats like that have to be taken seriously. Especially from him.”
“He’s not like that anymore,” Naruto insisted. “He’s under a lot of stress. Think about what we’ve asked him to do for the world. He thought he’d never get a chance to pursue a happiness like this. And now you’re letting Sakura go and face a threat to her life all by herself.” And then Naruto was glaring at Kakashi, too. “You taught us about teamwork, remember? That was our very first lesson from you, and you let her go alone. Has being Hokage made you lose sight of that? He wouldn’t have had to make that threat if you remembered that lesson yourself in the first place.”
And it had felt like a punch to Kakashi’s gut. Gaara had frowned as Naruto spoke and he had turned back to the Kazekage and added, “I’ll handle it. It won’t, but if it ever gets that bad again, I’ll be here to stop him. However many times it takes. I have already made that promise to him, myself.”
The conversations had ended after that. And Kakashi had holed up into the guest quarters of the Sand, staying through the night before making the trip back to Konoha. The jinchuriki was boisterous and loud for the sake of their tag-along, Isao, who nervously chose the path forward into a new land, carrying his entire life’s belonging in one rucksack. He looked to Naruto as a sense of comfort, but the following night, after Isao had fallen asleep beside their fire, Naruto had dropped his faux excitement and stared up into the stars a long time as he quietly kept to himself. The following morning, as they stood outside the A N gates, Naruto spoke his next request lowly. “Don’t tell Sakura,” Naruto had breathed between them, a hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. “Whenever she comes back, don’t tell her what he said. She deserves this newfound happiness with Sasuke. I’ll talk to him.”
And that had been the end of it. Until now. Because despite Naruto’s assurance and his promise to talk to Sasuke himself, Kakashi was feeling responsible again. As Sasuke’s sensei, Kakashi had taken him aside before, explaining to the youth how he, too, had already lost all his loved ones to the shinobi way of life and that Sasuke should give up on revenge. And now, he felt the need to remind Sasuke of the hard lesson he had thought the Uchiha had already learned.
“If you want to remain in the good graces of the Kages, you shouldn’t carelessly throw around threats. It wasn’t well received. Your reputation isn’t going to improve if you still come across as an insubordinate. Naruto and I had to do some damage control after you left.”
Sasuke scoffed aloud again, and Kakashi bristled when the Uchiha didn’t even seem to listen to the beginning of his lecture, falling straight into that sardonic voice as he said, “I hope this next threat is better received, because I don’t plan on breaking the habit today.”
Kakashi raised an unexpectant eyebrow at that statement. A threat to him? He shook his head as he prepared himself. He didn’t like where this was going.
“You sent her to a brothel.” Sasuke stated contemptuously, narrowing his only visible eye.
Ah. That. Kakashi supposed he would be hearing about this from one of the boys; hadn’t quite expected it to be Sasuke, though. Kakashi had hated that part of Sakura’s plan. Was very tempted to force her to stay with them in Suna when she had confessed it to him. However, as both a Hokage and someone with a very fair estimation of Sakura’s capabilities, the plan had made sense. He had full faith that she would be able to protect herself and execute her plan flawlessly. When Kakashi had raised concerns, Sakura did specifically tell him that the bathhouse was just a stage and she didn’t quite plan on performing the entire act that went with that stage. She had walked him through step-by-step of it. And he trusted her, as a medic, to be able to excute the anesthetic approach to captivation flawlessly.
“That was her plan; it sounded foolproof, and she assured me she would be safe. No one here is forced or asked to do that sort of thing for a mission. It’s been a thing of the past since Tsunade became Hokage. She made sure of it. Except for the rare occasion, on a voluntary basis—"
“It ends,” Sasuke drawled, interrupting him once again. “For everyone. Today. No matter the occasion.”
Kakashi sighed, feeling like Sasuke wasn’t quite understanding that his former sensei wasn’t saying he condoned Leaf ninja using their bodies as a means of success in a mission. That wasn’t what Sakura had been planning to do; it was the illusion of that to get inside.
“Or Naruto will hear more about Sakura’s recent mission himself,” Sasuke finished, finally delivering that threat he promised. And Kakashi really did feel more like a father than a Kage. An old man who had just had one troublesome son threaten him with the other, just as problematic, one. Meanwhile, the second son was yelling at him about sending Sakura (the daughter in this ridiculous scenario?) and foregoing all their training about teamwork. This entire thing made Kakashi feel like a figurehead, a reminder that Sasuke had begun his covert Kage rein long before Naruto would begin his official one, and Naruto, who acted like Hokage before he had even started. Not to mention Sakura forming plans on her own and expecting Kakashi’s approval to follow through with them. Ugh. If they only just saw him as someone to manipulate as they saw fit, then they should just relieve him of such duties and provide him the retirement check he wanted. But alas, he was still in charge. Kakashi loved the village and would die protecting it, but he knew the title of “Sixth Hokage” was a temporary placement holder until Naruto was ready to take over, and Sasuke and Shikamaru with him.
“I agree that it shouldn’t be allowed,” Kakashi informed him, just so there was no confusion about this topic. “Sakura was successful because of the disguise. She assured me she wasn’t going to go as far as that. I never would have let her go if she had.”
“Do you think she would have told you if she had planned it? She did more than she should have had to simply because she was in that situation. And that’s my point.”
“What did she do? You’re not saying—" Kakashi asked, suddenly feeling like his stomach was twisting violently. Would she have lied to him? Had Naruto been right? Had he just sent Sakura without a team into a situation Kakashi shouldn’t have?
“You don’t get to know what,” Sasuke hissed. “Because if I hadn’t followed her, then no one would know.”
Kakashi’s stomach turned again as he thought about what Sakura might feel obligated to do to complete a mission she had proposed herself because it had been about her. Would she have done anything to ensure it was a success? Would she have felt like it was her personal sacrifice to make in order to obtain the members of the organization simply because she was their target? A part of the Hokage’s duties came with giving orders and entrusting missions to the ninja the Hokage believed would deliver and follow through with those orders.
He looked back at Sasuke differently, then. Kakashi always thought he might be the one to know his students best in the beginning. But Sasuke knew a great deal more now about personal sacrifice because he, himself, had taken that road as his ninja path. Maybe Sasuke understood Sakura in her most recent mission on a level the rest of them could not, simply because it was his own personal convictions being mirrored back to him in the girl who loved him. Maybe it was that particular fact that had Sasuke braving to threaten the Hokage again, because he somewhat felt responsible for her choice. Sasuke was doing more than threatening Kakashi; he was asking him to stop Sakura in circumstances like this in the future. To continue to look after her as he had always done as her sensei. Because he was going to be gone and couldn’t do it himself.
“And why do you suddenly care so much Sasuke?” Kakashi prompted, already knowing the answer but wanting to force the Uchiha to admit it. It was the truth Sasuke needed to acknowledge outright before Kakashi confronted the Uchiha further. “Naruto, I could understand, but until two days ago in the Kazekage’s meeting room, you’ve always acted like you couldn’t really be bothered—”
“There’s no point in telling you what you already know, so move on with it,” Sasuke interrupted and Kakashi nodded thoughtfully. So, he was past the point of denying his growing attachment to Sakura. Kakashi’s thoughts returned to that ever-growing connection. Just a few days ago, Kakashi had been beaming with joy at having caught his two students together in a shared room in Sunagakure. But now, after Sasuke’s threat, the Hokage was concerned about it. As much as he wished otherwise, maybe the opening of the Uchiha’s heart wouldn’t turn out to be a good thing after all. Sasuke cared about Naruto. He cared about Sakura. But she had become something more over the course of the last few months at the very least, if not before that. He suddenly thought of Obito and Rin, and what Rin’s death had done to Obito.
Would a matter of a few months change Sasuke’s bearings and weaken his resolve about a peaceful future in a worst case scenario?
While Sasuke was complying with responses to his questions, Kakashi pushed further, “Naruto says that we don’t have to worry about the threat you made to the shinobi world in Sunagakure. Is that true? Being a shinobi comes with risks; Sakura is a frontline medic and more. There is always a gamble of her safety. As there is for me. And for Naruto, as well.”
There was silence as Sasuke stared beyond Kakashi and into the faces of the Hokage Mountain at his back. Kakashi wasn’t certain if Sasuke was going to even respond at first, but then he reached some sort of conclusion in his mind, “If Naruto exists, the world will never have to worry. We have the same goal. I will protect the Leaf. More so now than ever, I must find out everything I can about the Otsusuki. I’ve sacrificed everything for that.”
“Not everything, it seems,” Kakashi said aloud and Sasuke’s scowl deepened.
“Everything and more,” Sasuke corrected. “My future and hers.” It was a brutal truth that made Kakashi frown in contemplation. Being connected to Sasuke would bring Sakura a future of suffering and sacrifices of her own.
And then Sasuke was making his exit, excusing himself as he always did. And as Kakashi watched him leave, he thought of something else. Even more than Sakura, Kakashi was suddenly concerned about another unspoken factor. The Uchiha may not go to such lengths again on behalf of his current bonds, but the ultimate attachment to those who might be born from this “newfound happiness” between teammates—that might different. The loss of a friend is one thing. The loss of a spouse another. But the loss of a child was a pain more terrible than the first two. And definitely one to seek vengeance over. Would anyone truly be able to stop him then? But Kakashi didn’t say this aloud to Sasuke, hoping that Naruto would always be the insurance the shinobi world needed to keep the Uchiha in the light.
“Use the Uchiha compound,” Sasuke called back to him as if he had just thought of something else to add. “Build the clinic, the wards, or a prison. I don’t care. Whatever she wants, you can build it there, but put the Uchiha crest on it. I leave tomorrow to hunt down the rest of Zenshin, so there will be more coming if I don’t end up having to kill them, first.”
Kakashi rose an eyebrow at Sasuke’s parting words. The Uchiha had just given him permission to use his ancestral clan territory to expand Sakura’s professional reach and display the symbol of Uchiha pride once more. And told him he would have even more prisoners to take care of. Kakashi sighed.
The sun was high and bright over the ninja academy when Sakura finally found Isao and Naruto. They stood just outside the red doors of the building, that leaf symbol towering above the entrance crippling Sakura with nostalgia as she approached. That same lonely swing hung from the tree just outside. She was glad to not see Naruto sitting in that swing anymore. Now, he was serving as a personal tour guide, introducing Isao to Iruka Sensei, who had been promoted from homeroom teacher to Konoha Academy headmaster. Iruka was teasing Naruto’s past behavior lightheartedly to which Naruto was guffawing loudly over or cheesing bashfully at the accusations. Konohamaru was also among the group and Sakura was shocked at how much he had grown as well. Full of reminiscent wistfulness, Sakura hung back a moment despite how much she wanted to rush to them. Isao’s wide smile was just as vibrant as the others and Sakura felt relieved to see him surrounded with a group of men who had a history of supporting and looking up to one another. It was such a contrast to the treatment he had grown up with, and Sakura’s concern for Isao’s adjustment to life in the Leaf lightened considerably knowing that this group of ninja would be there for him.
Isao’s small voice carried to her on the wind. “What if no one likes me? What if I am alone?”
And she saw Naruto crouch down in front of him and grab each of his shoulders. “Impossible. But even if they don’t like you, that’s okay. Even if you feel alone in the beginning, friends will find you.”
And Sakura heard Naruto’s reflective laugh before continuing, “And if they don’t come to you, you go to them. Find the person who is also alone, and in them, you’ll have a lifelong friend. My best friend is often still alone, but we find our way back to one another, because we are each other’s closest friend to this day. He needs to be punched occasionally, but he is a good guy.”
Sakura chuckled to herself at that, then revealed her snooping by acting as if she were catching Naruto in a love confession. “Never thought I’d ever hear you admit that aloud.”
And Naruto turned to her, looking as if he had been caught with his pants down. He rubbed the back of his head, “Oh, hey Sakura! Don’t tell Sasuke I said that, ‘kay?”
When Isao finally caught her standing there, Sakura raised her hand and waved, revealing her own jovial smile. The child abandoned the party and sprinted toward her like no child ever had. He clutched her around the middle and Sakura had to summon chakra to her feet just to keep from sprawling on the ground from the force of his hug.
“You’re here!” Isao was mumbling into her side, large tears brimming along his bottom eyelids and Sakura realized suddenly that despite his smiling, this was the moment where he felt safest and was letting all that pent up stress directly fuel that sniffling. Sakura hugged him tightly back, catching Naruto’s giant grin as he walked toward them with his fingers laced behind his head.
“I’m glad to see you well,” Sakura admitted to Isao truthfully, her own emotions beginning to make her throat swell. She did her best to swallow them, coughing out, “How are you enjoying the Leaf so far? Naruto isn’t pushing you too hard, is he? He can be a bit oblivious, so telling him directly is what always works best for the rest of us.” She teased her friend, who grumbled, “not you too, Sakura.” Iruka and Konohamaru were laughing again. Sakura waved at them, too.
“It’s so lively here,” Isao admitted. “It’s a lot to take in. But everyone has been so nice.”
“I was just trying to convince Iruka to take us all out for Ramen since it will be Isao’s first time!” Naruto confessed as he came to stand beside her. He nudged her with his elbow. “But it’s not working. Your treat Sakura?”
Sakura wanted to habitually threaten his life like she had always done as a genin, but found herself sighing and nodding instead. She’d buy Naruto a hundred bowls of ‘Miso Ramen with extra pork!’ just for the kindness he showed Isao in her absence alone, not to mention everything else he had ever done for her. And besides, the last thing she had eaten was a stick of slimy eel fish, so Sakura was beside herself with hunger. At Naruto’s ‘huzzah’, Sakura placed a hand on top of Isao’s head after he let her go and wiped his eyes. “I was just coming to retrieve you for a short health check, but let’s get you some food first.”
Together, the three of them headed for Ichiraku, and Sakura watched with a smile as Naruto explained to Isao what the best ramen order was. Eager to please, Isao did everything Naruto was telling him to do, and Sakura elbowed him sharply. “Let him pick out what he wants.” She grinned innocently when Naruto overdramatized his new pained ribs. But Isao only nodded his eager approval at the food when it finally arrived.
When Isao began to eat enthusiastically, Naruto elbowed her back privately, saying, “Congrats by the way. It was about time that you two—”
And Sakura’s hand found his mouth to silence him as she looked back to her left at Isao to see if the child had heard her obnoxiously loud friend, but Isao played it off as if he hadn’t, turning back to his food and slurping loudly. Perceptive child.
“Geeze, Sakura. I wasn’t going to say that, but that too, huh?” Naruto whispered and grinned cheekily and Sakura dropped her jaw in absolute shock at his bluntness.
“Na-ru-to,” Sakura seethed, steam to compete with the ramen once again coming fresh off the planes of her too-large forehead.
“Alright, sheesh,” Naruto sighed, raising two hands to ward off her temper. “I just wanted to wish my two best friends a lifetime of happiness together.”
“So now I’m your best friend, too? Not twenty minutes ago, you just told Isao that you had only one best friend. Being the third wheel is starting to get old, you know.” She pretended to pout with her chin in her palm.
“Doesn’t seem like you’re much of third wheel anymore, to me.”
And Sakura immediately asked, “What did he tell you?” Because Sakura was trying to fit the information together. Sakura hadn’t told him; she had confirmed it for Kakashi, but Naruto had purposefully been kept in the dark. She took a calming breath because she certainly hadn’t told anyone about how official things seemed to have become just in the last twenty-four hours.
Naruto glanced over her shoulder to catch Isao strategically ordering another bowl of ramen while they talked, and Naruto stopped mid-conversation to say, “Make that two, old man!”
And then lowly, he said, “I’m not as dumb as you two believe me to be. I have eyes, too, sometimes.”
“Emphasis on the sometimes.”
“I’m happy for you two,” he nodded, leaning across her to ask Isao if he had ever had Naruto fishcakes in his ramen, to which Isao had replied that he had never had ramen, which sent Naruto into hysterics. Sakura was near-hysterics herself because talking about her relationship status with Naruto was not on her to-do-list and it took her by complete surprise. She didn’t even know what to say.
“Thanks, Naruto,” she ended up whispering to him, “for everything you’ve done for Sasuke. And for me. You kept your promise, you know. You brought him back.”
“And I always will. You have my word.”
Sakura shook her head. She wouldn’t ever burden Naruto the same way she had as a genin. “No, I’ll never let you make that sort of promise again, Naruto. You have a family now. A baby on the way. I’ll be there for Sasuke now. Keep him in line. That sort of thing.” She grinned as she raised her fist in an illustrative threat.
But, in response, Naruto reached out an arm and clapped a hand on her shoulder. “We can take care of him together. Take shifts, since you’re right. I do have a baby on the way!” It was a celebratory statement, at such a volume that revealed that Naruto had reached his limitations on whispered speech for one evening. “But I’ll trade you night shifts when the baby gets here.”
Sakura laughed at that intrusive picture. An exhausted, dark eyed Naruto showing up on her doorstep with a baby in his arms and handing him to Sakura, while heading toward her room where Sasuke slept, curling up next to the Uchiha as if he were the baby that needed snuggling, except Sasuke was a prickly porcupine who would kick him straight off the bed. Maybe she could rope Kakashi into it somehow and it would be like Team 7 was raising a baby together. Well, when Hinata needed a break, of course. She wasn’t the sort to hog a newborn baby that didn’t belong to her—those sort of people were odd. But helping when asked—Sakura wasn’t bothered by that notion. She thought back to her and Sasuke’s mutual understanding about a delayed family start, if they even got that point. So, if Hinata felt up for sharing, Sakura would spend every night awake with her and Naruto’s sweet child. Unlike Naruto himself, this baby would be surrounded by a family who loved him.
“You’re having a baby?” Isao suddenly chimed in as he leaned across Sakura to talk to her boisterous shinobi friend, no longer pretending not to hear their conversation. “I love babies. I always wanted a brother or sister.”
“Really?” Naruto asked him, “because I’m sure that Hinata and I could use all the help we can get!”
Isao’s face brightened as he smiled at Naruto, and Sakura was suddenly seeing another copy of an adoring Konohamaru in Isao, who was essentially a copy of Naruto. Not to mention the copy yet to be born. This world was going to be full of Narutos, Sakura thought to herself, but she also found herself smiling and admitting that it wouldn’t be a bad thing.
Long after Naruto left them in pursuit of Sasuke, Isao glanced over at her as they walked back toward the hospital. Curiosity getting the better of him, Isao questioned, “His best friend, the one he was talking about… That’s the man you love? The one who was in Sunagakure with you?”
Sakura didn’t know why exactly he was asking, but she nodded, suddenly nervous about Isao’s perception of Sasuke and what her choice in him might mean to the young boy. His father had been cruel to him, his mother lost forever. She felt the weight of her choices in the contextual lens of a young person’s impressionable viewpoint.
But that feeling went away when Isao said, “Why’d you and Naruto breakup? He said something about you two dating in the past—”
Sakura dropped her chin, and her face turned red, “Narutoooo,” she growled. “Don’t believe anything that idiot tells you!”
Isao’s laughter was sharp and bright and Sakura realized that for the first time, she had never heard him truly laugh before until now. As a medic, she knew it was a good sign that came with a change in environment. As someone who cared about the youth, her heart felt such peace.
The August cicada song of Konoha summer evenings was a comforting sound to Sasuke. It was loud, definitely, but not near as loud as the deafening roar of life in Shikkotsu Forest. It was warm and humming, and it was also a sound that Sasuke had once associated with his birthday. Being in Konoha for the first time since May, he realized his birthday must have passed under his nose without his remembering. That’s how it was when one got older, but for Sasuke, he had forgotten his birthday and age altogether the moment his family, the people who celebrated those things with him, were murdered. All dates of celebration were eclipsed in his mind by anniversaries of death. It was probably the same for many shinobi who’d lost their loved ones to a world of war.
After Sasuke had forgotten about his birthday, the cicada sound became attached to new memories other than his birthday. It was the sound of conversations between friends, camping by a fire in the forest, D-rank missions, and competitive sparring. Pairing it with the smell of street vendors and the Konoha evening dinner crowd made Sasuke suddenly overcome with nostalgia.
“Is that everything you need dear?” came the vendor’s question and Sasuke suddenly realized he was spacing.
He nodded, accepting the bag of supplies from the older woman, a face he recognized from his youth, but she didn’t seem to recognize him. Speaking to anyone in Konoha was sometimes nerve-wracking because Sasuke didn’t know if he was going to be receiving a fearful reception or indifferent one.
Sasuke was walking back in the direction of the Uchiha compound when that idiot blonde’s voice became louder than the cicada song. “Yo. You need help with that? Unlike you, I’ve got two arms now.”
Sasuke closed his eyes and scoffed. “Don’t you have anything better to be doing loser? Aren’t you about to be a father? Won’t your wife be angry if she catches you goofing off?”
“Hinata doesn’t get bent out of shape easily. Your wife, on the other hand.” Naruto countered and pointed at Sasuke square in the face when the Uchiha snapped his neck in his direction. Naruto laughed.
After a minute of solid glaring and no denying on Sasuke’s part, Naruto stopped mid-step and dropped his mouth. “Wait just a second! Are you serious? You two are married!?”
Sasuke turned on his heel and continued to make his way into the tree line.
“Why didn’t Sakura tell me that!? And here she was going on about a third-wheel, but you two are leaving me out of the know!”
Sasuke sighed again, not sure if he was relieved or frustrated that Naruto had discovered that secret. Well, maybe. He could still patch it, possibly. If Sakura wasn’t saying anything, then Sasuke sure damn well wasn’t confirming anything. He would let her tell it in her own time. “There’s nothing to tell. So shut up before the entire village hears you.”
“So you’re not? I need to know! Spill!”
“Why do you need to know anything? It’s none of your business.”
His joking voice changed, that quiet solidness it sometimes took on when Naruto was trying to get on Sasuke’s level. “It is my business when you go and threaten the Leaf and shinobi world again.”
Sasuke stopped walking then, turning to Naruto once they were both under tree cover. “Kakashi already gave me the lecture, so you can save your breath.” He sat, unfurling his scrolls and dumping the bags contents on the ground beside them with the purpose of restocking his summoning scrolls.
Naruto leaned against an opposite tree, arms crossed and eyes upward to the treetops. “I know that you don’t mean those things. That you only said it because they allowed Sakura to walk into danger alone. It makes more sense, knowing the scale of what she means to you now.”
Sasuke wanted to correct him. He wanted to tell Naruto that before and after he was consumed in darkness, Sakura had always been important to him. The only difference was that his goal had changed and that he was on the right side, the side that allowed him to admit and develop his attachment to her. Essentially, only after Sasuke had experienced death, that zone of in-between where he could still talk to Naruto and their souls collided, did Sasuke see that whatever goals he had in life, the only way to reach them was with the help of Naruto and the multitude on his side. While being the only one cutout for his solitary role, Sasuke had still tried to keep that distance from Sakura, but because he had believed it to be for her own sake. Not because he didn’t care for her on the same measure as now. Making her his wife didn’t mean he had cared less before. It was just a little different now, because he had finally admitted it to himself, something he had never done before. For both of his friends, Sasuke had denied their bonds to spare himself of the pain of losing them. And there was another factor that altered the situation. If Sakura were targeted because of their marriage and killed because of the Uchiha tie, then yes, Sasuke would avenge her. He would avenge her regardless, but it would be an entire new level of vengeance. A intense and dark sort of retaliation.
Which had Sasuke considering his threat. Despite what Naruto believed, Sasuke had meant every word of it, and even though it scared everyone for him to say those words, it also scared Sasuke. Because he didn’t want to fall, didn’t wantto pitch back into darkness. He had tried to stay far away from the edge of it for the last two years, but falling in love with that pink-haired Kunoichi… it just might make him stagger. Because that’s what love did to an Uchiha and Sasuke was well aware of that. Had faced it very recently with a display of Amaterasu on the prick who had marred Sakura’s skin with her own blood.
However, this time, Sasuke had the confidence that he wouldn’t fall to such depths again. Because of hia closest friend across from him. Because of Naruto. Where Sakura had become a tether to sanity and happiness, Naruto was still the savior when that lifeline snapped. The person who dove after the falling and careened over the edge along with them, and just when you thought their strength would run out and they would let go or fall too, they somehow managed to pull you both back to safety.
“Your promise still stands?” Sasuke asked aloud, glancing up at Naruto through his eyelashes. “To stop me no matter what?”
Naruto held his eyes as he nodded. “Hell yeah. Always.”
“Then there’s nothing to worry about. The future remains bright.”
“What are you two going to do now? Are you staying in the Leaf?”
“No,” Sasuke admitted bluntly, resuming the task of sealing each item into his travelling scrolls. “I know my mission. This doesn’t change that.”
Naruto frowned. “Then Sakura.. is she—”
“Staying here. She has her own goals, and her work is essential to the Leaf. She belongs here.”
“We can think of a different plan, Sasuke,” Naruto sighed, a sound that was both frustrated and sorrowful. “We can do this thing together.”
“We are doing it together,” Sasuke countered. “This is the only way to do that. The three of us—we each have a role to play. Think of it like stars and orbits.”
“Hmm,” Naruto hummed, that blank squinting confusion passing his features. “What was that now?”
Sasuke tsked. “Forget it. Should have known it would be too complicated for you to understand.”
Naruto started his fake nod, like he was following, even though he clearly wasn’t. “Something about space, got it. I can be a part of this space thing. Because I’m out of this world. Get it?”
“Definitely spacey,” Sasuke deadpanned, smirking at his own joke that still went over Naruto’s head.
The cicada song in Sasuke’s heart grew louder.
Sakura turned from her work of capsulizing the newly aquired H. Perforatum to find Shikamaru there. She was finishing reviewing the anti-depressant’s trial period and clinical practice schedule with Tsunade, smiling as her old mentor assisted and simultaneously tried to pry the details of her last couple months of travelling with Sasuke. Sakura had been blushing furiously from that last very personal question her mentor had boldly asked just before the door had opened.
Tsunade and Sakura had turned to one another in surprise at Shikamaru’s interruption, and big-eyed, Sakura had answered, “okay?” already nervous about the tone of voice delivering that declarative statement.
“What’s got you worked up, Shikamaru?” Tsunade crossed her arms, before leaning in Sakura’s direction and whispering, “Probably overworked. Shizune used to get cranky, too. Or his ponytail is too tight, either one.”
But Shikamaru ignored the loud whispers, staring only at Sakura. “We need to talk about Sasuke.”
Both the sanin and her pupil got very still at that. “I’ll leave you to it, then,” announced Tsunade immediately, ditching Sakura not because she wasn’t going to be the sort of mentor to take Sakura’s side, but because she was the former Hokage, and Sakura knew that Tsunade had had several uncomfortable conversations about the Uchiha with the rest of Team 7 over the years; Sakura suspected she was either staying out of it completely or she believed the conversation might be a necessary one, whatever it was about.
Sakura caught the unwavering determination in the set of Shikamaru’s shoulders. He wasn’t going to take no for an answer, and Sakura tried her best not to immediately bristle or react in Sasuke’s defense. She had a strange sense of deja-vu, recalling that time Sai and Shikamaru had come to talk to her about what needed to be done about Sasuke. The Konoha 11 had decided to take it upon themselves to eliminate Sasuke because Naruto’s defense of him was causing strain with the Hidden Cloud. At the time, it was believed to be essential in avoiding a war with the Hidden Cloud. In the end, Sakura had been the one to try to shoulder it alone, and she had failed. And after all this time, here was Shikamaru, approaching her in the same manner he had done back then, and it made Sakura’s stomach turn violently.
“What about him?” she asked, crossing her arms and leaning back against the table.
Shikamaru sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Naruto didn’t want us to tell you. But considering Sasuke’s past, and the importance of our present peace, I feel you ought to know.”
With every word, Sakura’s heart was sinking until it hit the floor. No. It hit the first level of the building. “What? What happened? Whatever it is, I’m sure there’s an explanation.”
Shikamaru sighed before looking her dead in the face. “Sasuke threatened the Leaf, Sakura. Again. He threatened to personally become Konoha’s—no, the entire shinobi world’s—enemy again.”
Sakura froze and her arms fell from their rigged position and her entire body went numb as those word registered. “When? What are you talking about?”
“Back in Sunagakure,” Shikamaru explained brusquely, not pulling the punch of the truth of it. He gave it to her frankly and quickly. “After you left, the Lord Hokage and the Kazekage denied him permission to follow you. Him and Naruto, both. Because that’s what you had asked.”
“And?” Sakura asked breathlessly, not sure why Sasuke was being singled out if he and Naruto had both reacted how she had expected them to.
“But Sasuke didn’t accept the Hokage’s orders,” Shikamaru continued, like this choice alone was Sasuke’s noose. “Unlike Naruto, he threatened his way out of that room.”
She fell silent, because she didn’t know what to say to that.
“And Kakashi—not just Kakashi—we all knew he meant it. Every one of us. Kakashi let him leave because of that threat.”
“I’ve talked to him,” Sakura rushed out, panic gripping her chest. Her words came out choppy like the floodwaters of that cave she was suddenly remembering. “He promised…Well, I promised. We will take care of him. Naruto and I will stop him if he ever—"
“Will you?” the shadow-wielder asked incredulously. “Will you two always take the fall for him? Will you always live in fear of his derailment? You two will spend the rest of your lives trying to keep him in line. He ran out of second chances this last time; there aren’t any more.”
“He’s not going to need another one, Shikamaru,” Sakura rushed to reassure him. She was remembering her and Sasuke’s conversation in the black abyss of a fire-lit cave just three nights ago. Right after she had just witnessed Sasuke try to de-limb someone, she had confronted him. “I don’t want to become a detriment to you, Sasuke. I don’t want to be what breaks you,” she had said. To which he had responded with: “It’s a part of me. No matter how hard I try to eradicate it, there’s a monster in here. And we both know what he’s capable of. Even now, I don’t feel regret when I should. I have absolutely no desire to apologize for my actions tonight. But that look on your face is the same expression you looked at me all the times I’ve been lost. I don’t want to see that anymore.” Sakura had promised that she and Naruto would not let him become a monster again and he had told her he could choose her because of it.
Sakura sucked in a breath, before adding, “It won’t get that far. The world needs Sasuke if there’s to be a future at all.”
“Let me ask you this then,” Shikamaru questioned without delay. “Do you need him more than the world does? His threats were concerning you, Sakura. Naruto told us you two were together now. And whatever. I don’t really care what you two are. What I do care about, is the ninja world, Konoha, and our current peace. That should be your priority as well, Sakura. If cutting Sasuke off is something that will save all of us, I am begging you on behalf of the world to do so.”
It was dusk by the time Sakura finished helping settle the new group of convicts she had delivered this morning and made her way toward her apartment on the outskirts of town. She didn’t know where Sasuke was, but she imagined he was caught up with Naruto, the two probably knocking each other’s teeth out or something somewhere. They had that annoying habit of having to challenge one another to a duel every time they reunited. And to be quite frank, Sakura needed a few minutes to herself just to think.
She revealed her copy of the apartment key from a hidden jutsu she kept it under when she was away on missions. It materialized into existence on the ground before her, like a stepping stone into a sanctuary.
Everything was exactly how she had left it. Clean, but bearing evidence of her quick departure. Sasuke’s pallet on the sofa was still there as if it had only been yesterday when Sakura had forced him to stay over. Her father’s clothes that he had borrowed were folded neatly and placed on the arm. Leftover—now expired—Onigri in the fridge. Their clean dishes stacked to the left of the sink. It was incredible how the official beginning of them was right before her face, preserved by the time capsule of four private walls. And yet, despite their previous time of residence, the house had returned to the odor of its original making, the familiar scents of fresh tea and herbal concoctions no longer attaching itself to the walls simply because she had vacated and taken them with her. It suddenly reminded Sakura of the fleetingness of life and of the impending departure of Sasuke once more. The evidence of his presence in her life would be there, but suddenly, hewouldn’t. And he would take his scents, his smirking confidence, his ridiculous stoicism with him. It hadn’t even been twelve hours, and Sakura’s heart already ached for him. How was she supposed to do this? How was she supposed to accept his leaving again? She couldn’t even bring herself to let him leave, let alone choose to suddenly live without him. Shikamaru had asked her to choose the world. As ridiculous and weak-natured as this self-confession made her, Sasuke was her world. Shikamaru had asked her to make a selfless decision and impossible choice. Shikamaru was asking her to live without her world, so everyone still had theirs to live for. Just as the Konoha 11 had once done years ago.
And Sakura would do it this time, wouldn’t she? That’s what she had told herself the entire walk here. For Konoha, she should. As a Leaf Shinobi, it was her duty to put the village first.
Like a pinprick of light, her eyes found the extra copy of the key on her kitchen counter, the one she had given Sasuke the night she had asked him to come to her as a friend while he was resting in Konoha. The very key he had given back to her, saying no and that he refused the life she offered. It still sat where she had tossed it in dismay several months ago, a cold key that bore no evidence of Sasuke ever holding it. And Sakura suddenly realized that this is what her life would be like, what she had chosen. A home that bore no witness of him being there. It wouldn’t smell like him; it wouldn’t feel like him. It would be hers and he would be a passing star whose light became too far away to even see anymore. And all that was expected of her from everyone else was to not prevent that star from playing its crucial role in the universe. She was to move along on her own orbital path, trying not to prevent their inevitable separation. To be indifferent to their fate.
But Sakura wasn’t indifferent. She would never be able to be indifferent, and she didn’t know why Shikamaru had tried to tell her to be, because everyone knew how selfish she and Naruto were when it came to Sasuke, didn’t they? They would do exactly as Shikamaru had predicted them to. They would spend the rest of their lives clinging to his sanity forhim.
Sakura fretted over Sasuke hours into the night as she held on to that key. On her sofa, with tea brewing as an attempt to make her home feel like its old self, Sakura finally realized that it might never feel like home again. Not after being with him these past few months. And she stood from her sofa, the scream of the tea kettle a perfect depiction of what she was suddenly feeling like on the inside. She had to go and find him. Because every second mattered. They were separating, their orbits spinning away from one another, and she needed every minute left of it. And then a myriad of unwanted thoughts came with this most recent realization: What if he already left? Maybe he was late because he wasn’t coming back. He had brought her back to the Leaf and left the first chance he gotten before she could follow him.
And just before she exited her home in pursuit of the Uchiha once again, she swung open the door to see the man in question raising his hand to knock against the frame. He was shocked for a moment as he unexpectedly came face to face with her, and she stood motionless in the absolute relief of seeing him there. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. Then sighed nervously. “I’ll take that key, if it’s still being offered.”
And she almost threw it at him. But she found herself helplessly reaching out for him, wrapping her arms around his neck as she began to sob uncontrollably. He stiffened at first at the suddenness of her grasping, confused as to why she was crying to the point of hysteria. He pushed her through the entryway and kicked the door shut behind him, wrapping his arm loosely around her waist as his body thawed of his initial embarrassment. “What happened?” he asked lowly, a worried rumble through his chest and throat. “Why are you suddenly crying?”
Sakura’s words came out through rattled breaths, and she pushed back against the surge of panic with an explanation. “I thought—” inhale, “thought y—you’d—” inhale, exhale, inhale, “left.” She cried some more, before attempting to say, “I thought you must have left again.”
He got still. “I promised not to do that anymore, remember?” he automatically reassured her. “We both did. I said I’d find you later, so you’d have no doubt.”
“Yeah,” she found herself exhaling, slowly counting in her mind the way she had taught small children to when they were upset. The tea kettle continued to squeal, and it was deafening, but so was her own thoughts. She clung to him and wouldn’t let go until he led her to the sofa. He walked over to remove the kettle, and like the metaphor to her internal frenzy, the kettle began to quiet as a direct result of his mediation.
“This is yours.” She reached out her hand to drop the key into his single palm when he came to stand before her once more. “It always has been. Even before you wanted it.” She stared down as he took it from her hands, and she didn’t see what he did with it, but heard the rustle of his clothing as he tucked it away somewhere.
His silence felt unsure, and Sakura knew his mind was probably spiraling, afraid he would say something else to set her off. And so Sakura whispered, “It’s not much of a home and it’s small, but when you’re here, it can be yours, too.”
He nodded, attempting to ease her concerns about their mutual habitation needs by saying. “I won’t be in your way. You can live wherever you like.”
She began to cry again at that, and Sakura could tell by his stricken face that he suddenly realized it had been the wrong thing to say after all. It broke his hesitancy, and he reached his palm forward and ran his thumb along the ridge of her cheekbone, wiping the tears there. “Don’t cry. I’m saying that you will be home to me.”
She nodded, trying to calm herself, which his soothing gesture was helping immensely. She leaned into it, hoping he never moved it away. Sakura was comforted immensely at the thought of being Sasuke’s home to return to, even if Sakura spent a lifetime waiting for her home to return to her. “I’m sorry. I’m always crying.”
“And I’m the one always making you, it seems like.” He confessed with a frown. “I hate that.”
She shook her head. “No. It’s just been a day.”
Sasuke didn’t respond to that, so Sakura asked the next looming question on her mind, “When are you leaving?”
He sucked in a breath, not quite ready to tell her, but then exhaled. “Tomorrow. In the morning.”
Already? She wanted to cry again. Her tears rushed to her eyes the longer he refused to clarify, modify, or ask her to come with him. “So that was it, then? Our time together has stopped?”
“I’m going to continue to find the leader of the organization who is after you. I’ll find him first before I continue to pursue the Otsusuki. There’s not much more time to delay. We’ve delivered the rest of them to Kakashi. I must continue on, now.”
“I can help you,” she tried, knowing he would deny her anyway. “I can help you with the Zenshin leader and make more chakra pills for you when you run out.”
He was looking down between them, at the careful space kept between them on the auburn-colored sofa. “After what you’ve recently done, you deserve to rest. You’ll be safe here, and I’ll have peace knowing that, while I do the mission only I can do.”
She wasn’t ready to give this topic up. She argued anyway, Shikamaru’s voice like a ticking clock in the back of her mind as she approached the discussion she needed to have with him yet again. “What if they come for me here? While you’re away, Mozai could come. It would be his next logical step.”
“He wouldn’t come here and risk having to deal with Kakashi and Nar—"
She pushed on. “What if they find and kill me? What are you going to do if that happens, Sasuke?”
He got very still as those words registered, not because he was angry at the idea of it or fearful of it becoming true. He froze with a staring sourness of narrowed eyes, because he had caught on to the direction of her conversation. She suddenly knew that Sasuke had just learned that she was told about his choice words of a threat back in Sunagakure.
She steeled herself at that stare, swallowing back the discomfort of the confrontation. “Are you going to avenge me? Are you going to become an enemy of the world again if someone else is taken from you?”
Sasuke stood from the couch at her words, turning his back on her in the darkness of the room. “I’m getting really tired of this conversation,” he retorted scornfully. “I have already had it twice today.”
“So it’s true,” she laughed mirthlessly, standing up along with him as she stared at his bowed head and bent shoulders. “You really said that? Why? You never would have said something like that as far as I was concerned in the past. You’ve risked everything you have worked toward over the last two years by doing that!”
He had started to walk away from her as she spoke, every word stiffening his posture. His only response was, “Who told you what I said? Was it Naruto? Kakashi?”
Sakura ignored his redirection, because she had to say this. She had to do this so when the time came for her to be accountable for her own actions in the world, Sakura could use this conversation as an excuse for why she couldn’t do more than this. She continued. “Why did you say that? Why go to that extent because I went on a mission of my ownvolition? In the past, I was always the ‘annoying’ person who was in your way, and now you’ve made me a liability to the world?”
“You’re being annoying right now,” he droned, using that tone of voice that always made her body fill with ice. Instead of the playful connotation of that word, it now reminded her of all the times he had chastised her and been cruel on purpose. It still hurt when he used it that way. He sighed and turned to face her then at her silence, and Sakura could see the small regret of those words. So he clarified. “You’re my wife. I’m allowed to say that I will avenge you, and I’ll make sure the world knows that I will.”
“We had made no vows when you said that. We weren’t serious yet—"
He was getting angrier every time she tried to speak. It caused him to spill secrets he had kept for a long time, words that would heal Sakura’s pain from the past and sustain her like fodder throughout her future of loneliness. “I knew where it was headed. I’ve known for a long time. Since before I left the Leaf, I knew what you would become to me. It’s why I said and did those things to you. To keep you away from me. You were supposed to hate me so this would never happen. I would have avenged you when we were genin together on Team 7, maybe even after at some points. And I would do so now. As I would for Naruto, or Kakashi even.”
After a moment, more tears streamed down her face, because Sasuke didn’t know the gravity of what he just confessed. She still hadn’t gotten to the hard part, because Sakura had been asked to do everything she could to protect the world, but she just couldn’t give Sasuke up. Her and Naruto both; he would be their weakness for life. So, she had to do the next extreme, and very gutsy thing she could think of. “I need you to add it to your vow to me. Right now. That you neverwill. If I am killed tomorrow—or Naruto, or Kakashi—you’ll never choose revenge again. You told me that night that the world will not pay for us loving one another.”
Sasuke laughed, scornfully. Like she had just said something funny, and Sakura had never seen him laugh except for when he was wrapped in darkness. He laughed again in utter exhaustion, rubbing his palm down across his face. Maybe it was the trauma of the past coming back to haunt her, but it made her blood run cold at the familiarity.
In a flash of panicked anger, Sakura pulled out her kunai and angled it toward her heart. There was a sound of metal, and Sasuke’s laughter died immediately at the sight of it, and a still rage filled his eyes as they widened at her actions. She wasn’t swayed by that wrath, and when he instantly made to make an interfering step toward her, she drew it closer to her chest, stilling him straightaway.
“Now you’re the one making stupid threats, Sakura.” He sneered lowly and she could see the flash of his red Sharingan. She was going to run out of time to make this stupid bluff of a facade count. It was an extreme thing to do maybe, but she couldn’t think of another way to get him to see what he had done by putting her in a position of choosing him or choosing Konoha. “Shikamaru said I needed to cut ties with you,” she explained. “That being with you was a risk. But I can’t do that because I am selfish. What I should do is end myself now for the sake of the village, because my life is not worth the risk you pose to the world. That’s what you will be asking me to do if you continue using my life as the rationale for your recent behavior. If you keep making threats like this, then it will be the only thing I can do to save it.”
“That bastard didn’t tell you everything I said,” he hissed, furiously, a quiet sound that still jarred her nerves just as much as the screeching tea kettle had. “I also said that I wouldn’t survive it. I said the world would just as likely fall to the Otsusuki in my absence. And that’s the truth. You dying will make a shell out of me, if not outright kill me, too.”
Her hand lowered at those words, and the Uchiha saw it with his Sharingan, and the next thing Sakura knew, she was no longer holding that kunai as it was transported places with the handle of that still-hot tea kettle. The metal singed her skin as it swung in the air and she winced before dropping it. Sasuke rushed forward and caught the handle himself before it could hit the ground, and he glared at her as he placed it on the table before the sofa.
“Cheap trick,” she chided, as he came very close to stand before her. He held her eyes with red and purple irises. She didn’t look away.
“Don’t you ever do that again, even to make a point. If you don’t want to be with me because you choose the world, fine. None of your choices change what we are to one another.” Every word was sharp and stony. “It’s a hard lesson to learn, believe me, but you would have to erase our past. I tried that. And you fought to make me remember. All of you did. So now you have to live with that choice.”
“Tell me what do,” Sakura pleaded. “Tell me how I can love you and still protect the world from you.”
“You just have to live. Because of you, I will continue. I will find the Otsusuki race and eliminate them as a threat so that I can return to you, just like I promised. And if someone ever dared to touch you, they would die for it, and Naruto would prevent it from going beyond that. And if Naruto dies, it will be you who I have to cling to. You all just have to accept that.”
“I can’t stop you, Sasuke. And I can’t kill you. I’ll never be able to kill you. Even after you tried to kill me, yourself, I couldn’t follow through. I’ll never be able to stop you from another path of destruction because, like I said, I’m selfish. Despite what Shikamaru said, I can’t choose the world over you. My choice will always be you. Just as it was the day you left me the first time. I’d even go as far as to help you with revenge. As always, I’m pitiful. I’m hopeless. I’m in love with you. I love you more than the world. What kind of ninja does that make me? It makes me a traitor.”
His irritation faded as she confessed this long stream of thoughts to him. He reached forward and cupped the back of her neck, pulling her the rest of the way to him. “No. It makes you an Uchiha.”
More tears fell down her cheeks as he pulled her mouth the rest of the way to his. And he was pushing her toward the couch. Down onto the surface of it as he claimed her mouth with his. And it was a frantic exploration with his tongue, a touching that was high with the intoxication of tormenting truths, threats, and confessions. A type of kissing that came after you thought you might never get to do so again. In a way, he made it bruising and punishing, for having even dared to do what she had.
He pressed her body deep into the couch as he straddled her waist and Sakura reached up and desperately clung to the collar of his shirt. He leaned over her, fist tangled in her hair as he pulled her head flush against the headrest of the sofa to reveal her throat. Sakura’s skin prickled at the roughness.
“I told you there would be no going back for us,” he breathed against her jawline, sending gooseflesh into the scalp of her head and along her arms. “It’s too late, remember? We get to choose each other, and I’ll even vow to you that the world will not pay for this. I have already chosen the world for all of us. You get to choose me and not live with the guilt of it. I won’t become who I used to be. Because I don’t want to see you look at me like that.”
She nodded before his mouth found hers again. It was hot, sweltering, fueled with the fire-nature of his chakra. He meant to burn her up, completely. So that when he had to leave tomorrow morning, she could still feel the heat of him. She would allow herself to be burned from his heat because then at least something would remain of him.
He pushed her clothing down around her, pulling the shirt up and over her head between kisses, demanding the attention of her mouth. In the next instant, he was pulling something from his cloak. A red bundle the size of his fist. Still straddling her lap, he unfurled it in front of her face. An Uchiha crest, front and center on the backside of a perfect rendition of the shirt she had just been wearing, hung before her like a territorial flag. She outright gasped.
“For a second, you had me thinking you were done with me, and I wasn’t going to get to give this to you,” he sighed between labored panting, his heart still beating loudly from their heated proximity. “I had it made today. You’ll wear it in my stead, won’t you?”
Sakura’s face hurt at this point from crying so much, and she was sure it was splotchy and red, but it didn’t stop her from crying more. She nodded through tears and Sasuke showed her his rare, sporadic smile. She slipped it over her head and he stood, pulling her with him and spinning her so he could see it on her. She blushed at the scrutiny, looking down and tucking her hair behind her ear. Her shyness melted away when he abandoned his own, tilting her chin up to claim her mouth once more.
“You’re now the only Uchiha woman in this world,” he whispered against her mouth. “I’ve never seen someone look as beautiful as you do right now. Wearing that.”
Okay, maybe her bashfulness hadn’t completely vanished, because she was blushing furiously after he said that. And with it, she experienced a sudden moment of disassociation. Could this even be real? Just moments ago, she was dramatically threatening her own life, and now she didn’t care about anything else other than simply just living for him. To have more of him. Every second, even in madness, she would take it all. Because she was selfish. Because she didn’t care about anything else and never had.
But his hot mouth on hers grounded her. He was real and she could have him. And she could look Shikamaru confidently in his face from now on, regardless of her choice, because he, too, was a star locked in his own orbit of destiny, but Sasuke was the sun of her life and meant to burn her. And he did.
The steam of herbal tea intensified that heat, searing the press of him, the feel of him, his mouth on hers into the memory of ‘home,’ and it lingered long into the blissful after. And at some point during their kissing, Sasuke reached above her head to crack open the window behind her, letting in the nighttime fading sound of hot summer cicadas and crickets. “I want to hear them. I want to remember this when I hear them.”
She felt for him, pulling his shirt away from his muscular back, and he felt feverish, but they both knew he wasn’t sick. Just intoxicated with adrenaline and need. Sasuke continued to push her down into the very couch where she had been sitting in despair moments ago, and when he became parallel with her own body, reaching into her waistband, she hooked her leg up and over his hip so he could reach exactly where he was aiming.
Before things escalated further and they lost themselves to the mindlessness of burning a second time, Sakura pulled back and reached into her pocket, revealing a tiny vial of citrine tinted liquid sloshing from the movements of its revelation. “Take this. So that there’s no uncertainty,” Sakura explained. “Tsunade helped me make it today. Its common here for men to take a contraceptive, as well. We’ll both be covered.” His euphoric expression of concentration turned into a frown as he met her eyes in understanding. He looked at it and then looked at her.
Sasuke held that concoction with pure hatred. Shikamaru and Naruto, both, could take a damn hike and take their holier-than-thou lectures elsewhere. Because they got to stay in the Leaf and fuck their women, plant themselves with abandon in order to take root in the woman of their dreams and watch their children grow inside of them. Sasuke didn’t get to do that. He got a few moments of blissful ecstasy with years to divide them, and watch their families grow like mocking gardens of happiness while he dragged Sakura into the deep dark earth of a baren family tree. She would be the only branch of his dying lineage unless he could complete his goal, first.
Which is why he had to leave tomorrow, so he could come back to her free of conflicting obligation.
Their eyes held one another’s as he pulled the stopper. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, swallowing that putrid mixture of protection that was simultaneously a death sentence of a future disguised as responsibility. It was a choice he had to make for the both of them, and it killed him to do it. But he told himself that Sakura was enough for now. Stars and orbits. Stars and orbits. Stars and orbits.
Sasuke didn’t have time to evaluate the effects of such a potion, to see if it dulled his need, because his wife was now rising from the sofa and sinking on to the floor. And those knees hit the ground and he realized what she was planning to do as she tried to rotate his body in the direction of her face. Oh hell no. Not like that.
“I want to,” she confessed, thinking he was stumbling over his own nervousness as she had done back in the cave. He most certainly was not.
“No,” he said in finality, pulling at her. “Get off your knees. Uchiha women don’t get on their knees for anyone. Not even their husbands.”
Her eyes widened at that statement, and she allowed him to pull her from the floor. “How would you even know that?”
And Sasuke specifically remembered his father snatching his mother’s cleaning rag from her as she stooped on the ground to clean the dirt that had been tracked in. “Get up,” he had told her as he took the chore over himself. “You have two sons who are more than capable of doing that. I better never see you on your knees again.” When it had happened, Sasuke had been shocked by the angry reproach from his father, but his mother had only laughed and walked out of the room brightly. Sasuke hadn’t understood such context at the time—well, other than the fact that whatever had just happened meant he would soon be having to scrub floors. But he understood now, in this moment, what his father had been doing. And even if the situation had some sort of different context he wouldn’t ever have answers to, he suddenly knew that it was going to be a rule in his relationship from now on. Because he would set the precedent. He was the only one left to make those rules.
He didn’t explain it to her in that moment, because time did not allow for it. Instead, he copied his father’s tone to the best of his ability. “Just stay off your knees.”
He was really leaving tomorrow. He was going to be walking away from this again. That’s what Sasuke was thinking as he captured her mouth. Sasuke was selfish and despite what he had told her moments ago, he wanted to ask her to come with him on his mission. He held his tongue, because then she wouldn’t be safe in Konoha anymore. She would be sacrificing her own dream and her own work here. But as their bodies found home in one another, Sasuke lost his will to hold back that request. He had changed his mind. She could come. He would let her come with him. Stay beside him for the whole of it if she didn’t care to sacrifice her own important work here in the Leaf. He could take her up on her promise from all those years ago, because he couldn’t stay, but maybe, just maybe he could take her with him.
Sakura let out a surprised yelp when their bodies dematerialized and reappeared on her (their?) bed. A new array of scents greeted him with the change, and this room felt sacred. Because it was where she had slept every night for the last several years without him. The bedding emitted the very essence of her sweet fragrance, as if it were the concentration of all things her. This bed had just become the ribcage of his new home, where the beating heart of it would sleep waiting for his return.
When he had replaced the two of them on the couch with the pillows of her bed, Sasuke had flipped her onto her stomach. He wanted to see the Uchiha crest. He wanted to truly be with her as she wore that symbol of his.
They came back together, and Sasuke voiced what he had once wanted to say to her back then and what he wanted to say now. “Come with me.”
In the heat of things, she didn’t catch the true meaning of his words, interpreting it for its double entendre.
“No,” he clarified, when they lay next to one another and panted shallowly. “Come with me. I am asking you to come with me.”
“What?” she asked, her head shooting up and she raised onto her elbows to look at him. “You’re asking me to come on your mission with you?” Were those more tears? He hated seeing her cry.
“Yes. Come with me, Sakura.” It wasn’t time for their orbits to separate yet. Maybe they could hold on just a little longer.
