How does it feel to know that you kinda started a thing with Sakura hiding under Sasuke's poncho?
Hahahaha it feels pretty good because I'm loving all the fanarts of Sakura hiding in Sasuke's poncho! x3 Everyone's having fun with it and now his poncho isn't so bad after all huehuehue
Sasuke’s birthdays at ages 5, 7, 12, 15, 21. And no matter how impossible it was, Sakura managed to remember enough to give him a present (even he scorned/thrown/loathed all of them, until his last birthday…)
5.
“Happy birthday!”
Sasuke hesitantly takes the wrapped object held out to him, a strained smile on his face. It’s soft, too soft, and it has to be yet another stuffed animal. Unwrapping it only confirms his suspicion.
It’s dinosaur again. Someone told the entire village about Mr. Dino.
And that someone will pay.
There is a cough beside him and he looks up to see his mother gesturing at the girl in front of him.
“Thank you,” Sasuke mutters, forcing his smile to stay in place, and the pink-haired girl turns red. There’s another cough beside him and he sighs before adding, “It’s a nice gift.”
Her face turns redder, if that is even possible, before she stutters, “I-I-It’s n-nothing.” Ducking her head, she practically runs to the group of girls clustered to his right. The room is crowded with his classmates and almost all of their gifts suck.
Sasuke looks down at the bear in his hands, to the pile beside his chair. If he had mastered that fire jutsu, he’d burn the pile.
His brother is on his other side and he looks up pleadingly at Itachi. “Please? There’s no one left!”
Itachi chuckles, examining the room for a few minutes before nodding. “Yes, you can have your present now.”
“Finally!” His mom shakes her head, sighing, but even he can see the smile on her lips. Getting off the chair, Sasuke waves a quick goodbye to the people in the room before taking his brother’s hand and pulling him away. Only when they leave the room does he let go.
“What did you get me?” Sasuke tugs expectantly at his brother’s robes as they walk. “Are we going to train together? Is it a new jutsu? Come on!”
“It’s an object,” Itachi slowly replies, a broad smile on his face.
Sasuke shivers, worried. “It’s not a dinosaur, is it?”
“No, not a dino—”
“Or dog or cat or any other animal!” Sasuke interrupts, a frown on his face. The grin doesn’t leave Itachi’s face and Sasuke whines, “Brother!”
“I’m just joking.” They stop walking now, and to Sasuke’s left is a broad space they sometimes train in. Itachi kneels on the veranda, pulling out a small kunai from his pocket. “Your first real kunai.”
Sasuke grabs it, staring at the metal point and the black grip. Touching the tip with his finger, he winces. “Ow!”
“I warned you.” Itachi ruffles Sasuke’s hair before standing up. “We can practice with it now if you want.”
His face lights up and excitedly he leaps onto the grass. “Yes!”
7.
Sakura slowly walks down the white hall, looking up at each door as she passes them. Sasuke is behind one of those doors. But he isn’t hurt.
At least, he isn’t hurt physically, her mother said. Not that that makes sense, since he isn’t sick either. Her mom wouldn’t explain any further, just that something bad happened to him and he is alone now.
She glances at the small kunai in her hands, Sasuke’s name engraved in the hilt, and grips it tighter. No, he isn’t alone. Not on his birthday. Not ever. A gift might make him feel better.
The number of the next door is 203 and she stops. A small tag below the number reads Uchiha Sasuke, the letters small and precise and so very much like the boy inside. Behind her nurses walk by, the smell of disinfect in the air, and suddenly she feels nervous.
What if her mother is wrong? What if he is badly hurt? She can hear crying behind her, from the other rooms. Grunts and groaning and a single scream. Sasuke shouldn’t be here.
Quickly she opens the door, afraid. “Sasuke?”
There is no response and she repeats her call, frantic. “Sasuke?!”
Turning her head, she can see him sitting on a bed, staring blankly ahead. A blanket covers him to his waist, but at least there are no bandages on the rest of his body. “Oh, there you are.” She sighs, relieved, but he still doesn’t respond. “Sasuke?”
Quietly, she approaches the white bed (with the white blanket and white pillows in a white room and why is there so much white? White is the colour of death. And Sasuke is alive.) He doesn’t move, doesn’t so much as glance at her. Sakura swallows hard before gently touching his arm. “Sasuke?”
Nothing. He looks like a doll. A porcelain doll like the ones lined on her shelf, fragile and untouchable. Her mother’s words echo in her mind and she shakes her head.
“Um, it’s your birthday and I got you a gift. Mom said your hurt right now but gifts can make you feel better and—” Sakura stops. She’s starting to ramble. Quickly, she presses the kunai to his hand, trying not to blush too hard as her fingers touch his. “I hope you like it.”
“...out.”
“Huh?” She looks back at her crush, surprised to hear his voice. Something in his expression changed and he looks alive almost. Smiling, she reaches out to him. “I knew—”
“Get out.”
“What?”
“GET OUT!”
“I...” His face is livid, and all she can see is the rage in his eyes. “I...I...”
“LEAVE ME ALONE!”
The door is almost too far away. She races out and doesn’t look back.
-x-
This weight is familiar. Sasuke stares down at the weapon, turning it over.
You need to hold it at an angle.
His hands move without a second thought, Itachi’s voice in his ear. There’s a second set of hands over his now, guiding him through the motions.
When you use it hand-to-hand, keep your grip firm but light. In an instant you might need to throw it.
It was sunny that day, and through the leaves it filtered down. A target was ten metres in front of him and Itachi guided his aim.
To the right a little—yes, that’s it.
He tosses it and it hits the wall with a thunk. Itachi isn’t beside him. Itachi will never be beside him again.
Or his mother. Or his father. Or his cousins and friends and—
He can still see their blood on the floor, their bodies slumped on one another. In the darkness a blade glints and all he knew was he has to run.
Hate me, his brother told him.
His eyes burn.
“Brother,” and Sasuke can’t hold back the tears. “Why?”
12.
Sakura’s dress sticks to her uncomfortably. It’s a humid July, and Sakura peeks into her basket quickly. Good, nothing’s squashed or rotting yet. Ahead of her is the practice fields and she can already hear Sasuke grunting as he trains in the midday sun.
“Sasuke-kun!” He’s in the middle of the second field, pulling shuriken out of a target dummy. His clothes are sticking to him too, sweat rolling down his skin, but unlike her he manages to still look attractive despite that.
Her ears start to burn as she notices the faint outline of his muscles beneath the shirt.
“Sasuke-kun!” She calls again, waving to him as she enters the field. “I...it’s...”
Sakura freezes as he looks at her, utter distaste in his expression. He doesn’t like her, despite the fact they’ve been teammates for a few months now. Somehow he’s closer to Naruto than he is her. Fidgeting, she shifts the basket in her arms and tries to calm herself down.
This gift will change this status quo. This gift will fix everything.
“I heard you liked tomatoes, so I got you some for your birthday.”
Sasuke says nothing, turning back to his dummy. She waits a few minutes until it’s clear he isn’t going to say anything. “Should I just leave it here then?”
There’s still no reply and Sakura thinks it’s better when he scorns her than when he ignores her. He’s walking around the target in a large circle, probably deciding his next exercise.
The tomatoes in her basket roll slightly as she adjusts her position. Maybe she should just leave it beside his stuff. He hasn’t rejected it at least, and that’s a step up.
“Well...” He doesn’t even twitch at her words. “I’m going now. I’ll leave the basket here, you can return it to me later.”
Nothing. She’s reminded of a hospital visit years ago. His hate is preferable to this silence.
“Bye.”
Anything is preferable to this silence.
15.
Sakura flexes her hands, her leather gloves stretching over her fists like a second glove. This will do. This will have to do.
Somewhere behind her is a sleeping team. They’ll forgive her when they wake up.
Ahead of her is a man she wants and doesn’t want to see again. He might never forgive her, but that’s okay. Naruto won’t either and she doubts she can forgive herself for what she has to do.
But Naruto can’t kill Sasuke, and Sasuke will kill Naruto.
That leaves only her. She grimaces as she composes herself. That man is not Sasuke. Sasuke would never be like this. That man is not Sasuke.
Sasuke—
It’s still early spring. In a few months Sasuke will—would—be turning 16.
“Happy birthday, Sasuke-kun.”
She’ll stop the monster he’s become.
17.
It’s an awkward birthday party. Tsunade’s not-so-secret stash of sake lie scattered across the room, almost completely finished, and Naruto’s drunkenly singing in a corner.
Sakura sits across from him, gulping quickly from her bottle, and he’s pretty sure that she shouldn’t be awake anymore by now, let alone calmly pouring him a cup before downing the rest.
“Thanks,” he finally says, picking up the cup. Sakura doesn’t reply, just eyes him for a moment before putting down the bottle. Standing up, she goes to check up on Naruto before propping him against the wall.
“He needs to learn his limit,” she mutters, almost to herself, and Sasuke slowly sips from his cup.
There’s silence in the room again after that, uncomfortable and loud. It’s not hostile anymore, at least, and he watches as Sakura returns to her seat. The clock to his right shows it’s 11:30 and he thinks it’s past time he left.
Sakura’s watching him from over the bottle. He’s not sure if she’s trying to be discrete and failing, or if she just doesn’t care anymore. Her neck is visible, tanned from their summer missions, and he wonders if she’s looking at the spot she almost stabbed him.
It’s a conversation they’ll never have. Getting up, he quietly makes his way to the door before her words arrest him in mid-step.
“Wait.”
Looking over his shoulder, he can see her peering down into her bottle, swirling the contents as she thinks. “I...”
Her voice stops, her teeth biting her bottom lip. He can almost see the train of thoughts in her head, they’re identical to his own. Now her head is up and she’s looking at him. “Happy birthday.”
Her conclusion is different than his last March. “...thank you.”
21.
It’s almost midnight when they start heading home. Naruto’s drunk and almost asleep and Sasuke’s half-tempted to leave him lying in some bushes somewhere. The idiot’s breath is more than enough of a reason to just walk away.
“I swear he needs to go on a diet. Every time we do this he gets heavier,” Sakura grunts as she picks up Naruto. Sasuke’s mostly certain she does this just to show off—she is the strongest among the three.
“We should just stop drinking with him.”
Sakura stops, Naruto half in her arms, and raises an eyebrow. “And put up with his cries afterword?” She shakes her head and slings his unconscious body over her shoulder. “You’d miss him anyways.”
He snorts, falling into pace beside her as they head to the idiot’s home. It’s a warm night, a breeze coming in from the south. The street lights splash the ground in small pools, and he can barely make out Sakura’s outline as they walk in and out of light. If he guesses, it’s past midnight.
She hums lightly as they walk. “Ah, that reminds me,” Sakura turns to face him, her voice oddly cheerful considering how tired she was earlier. “Happy birthday.”
“Thanks.” He’s no longer surprised by this.
“Twenty-one.” She gives a low whistle. “We’ve all become so old.”
“It’s only twenty-one.”
“Yeah, but...” She looks up, staring wistfully at the sky. Her pace slows and he matches his stride to hers. “I didn’t think we’d make it this far.” Her head turns but in the darkness he can’t make out her expression. “I thought we’d all die at seventeen, stopping that war.”
Her voice lowers now, and he has to strain his ears to hear her. “Or that you both would die and I’d be the only one to make it this far.”
Sasuke looks away, unable to deny the truth in her words. They walk in silence the rest of the way, dropping Naruto in his bed. Closing his door, Sakura smiles at the small apartment Naruto calls home.
“It’s nice to drink with the two of you like this.” She leads the way down the stairs and onto the street, pausing under a street light. Turning back to face him, she smiles again. “It’s nice to walk home with you both.”
Sasuke grunts. “I wouldn’t really call that walking.”
“Me neither.” She laughs, following the path to her parent’s house. “It’s nice either way.” Her hands slip into his and he looks down in surprise. “It’ll be nicer when Naruto wakes up and starts complaining about his head.”
Sasuke looks at her now, but Sakura still doesn’t say anything about her hand. She doesn’t pull away either, and when he grips it lightly, he can see her smile grow broader. “You don’t have a hangover?” She looks at him now, and he shakes his head.
“I don’t drink much.” His grip on her hand gets a little tighter. There’s still no reaction and he’s not sure how to take this turn of events.
“Ah, too bad. We should have a drinking contest one day, between the two of us. Just so you know, Tsunade bet on you, so there’s no way I can lose.”
“Right.” Her house is ahead and now she lets go of his hand.
“Well, that was fun and all, but...” She gives a mischievous grin and pecks him on the cheek. “Next time we should try this with just the two of us. Goodnight!”
She’s at her door before he can react. As she opens it, he somehow manages to blurt out, “Dinner today?”
“Perfect, birthday boy!” Sakura laughs, closing the door behind her.
- kamekoeri | smakn
So I can put a fanfic I made on this tumblr anytime?
As long its not more than 200 words? Ahahah, we follow a round-robin style of story-writing. That’s why there are no author bylines at the end of each post. We pass & continue each story to others. (but there are exceptions).
