A/N: Welcome to my first fic! For context, this story begins a few months after the end of the war; everyone is back in Konoha. Thanks for taking the time to read!

When there was a knock at his door around ten at night, Sasuke answered it, with both curiosity and annoyance plain on his face. There was only one person in the village who would visit him this late at night without being invited, and he was not in the mood for ramen or bright orange anything.

He was surprised to see that it was not Naruto standing at his doorstep, but Sakura. She was dressed in her green flak vest and black pants, hair tied back and headband crowning her scalp. He raised his eyebrows at her, as if to ask: you?

"Can I come in?" she murmured, dispensing with formalities; while he did not require them from her, he had come to expect them. Something was not right.
He stood aside, opening the door wider to allow her to pass. She ducked her head as she passed him, a sign of the deference he was used to; the smell of her shampoo filled his mind for a moment. But just for a moment.

"You can sit anywhere," he invited quietly, gesturing to the couches in his living room. The only time he felt that his living situation was inadequate was when she was standing in his one-bedroom apartment. It was the best he could do, post-war, but he felt the austerity of the place more than ever when she was in it.

She sat, and he could sense the tension in her movements. He sat across the coffee table from her in a too-soft chair he had been gifted by Kakashi.

"I was in council meetings all day." She folded her hands in her lap. "Regarding you."

He raised his eyebrows again, trying to appear uninterested. He knew that both she and Kakashi were on the council regarding his sentencing; Naruto was not invited based on many reasons, namely that he could not be level headed for more than thirty seconds, and many of the council had their own litany of misgivings regarding him and his role in the war.

But Kakashi was hokage, even if he hadn't been for long, and Sakura, being head of the hospital and only member of the team the council liked, had been inducted into his hearing. He felt infinitely better knowing they were there, although he did not tell either of them this. While she kept him updated, a visit this late was out of the ordinary.

"You've been completely pardoned," Sakura said, with a small smile that didn't look completely right.

"I have?" he asked, surprised.

"No solo missions or leaving the village unsupervised for the next 18 months. And they wanted me to tell you, and specifically Naruto, that he doesn't count as supervision. Jonins only, and don't go trying to find any loopholes."

He sat back in his chair, the unexpected news leaving him at a loss for words. It had been months of deliberation, and to hear Sakura tell it, mostly arguing that got nowhere, since she and Kakashi were completely immoveable in favor of a complete pardon, and several of the council members were in favor of banishment, imprisonment, or execution. He'd not known they were so close to a decision.

"If the first 18 months goes well, then all restrictions will be lifted, and you can come and go as you please. We know that we couldn't really make you adhere to that, of course. So it's more of a good faith thing."

"Of course," he nodded. Hesitantly, he asked, "Anything else?"

Her smile became more self-satisfied. "No. That's all."

He did not wonder why she looked proud of herself. She knew, better than anyone, how bothered and distracted he had been by the whole ordeal. She had seen through his impatience for the desperate worry it was, and she told him everything that was on the table, from death or banishment to community service in the civilian sector. And she promised she would try for him, but made no other commitments; however, Sasuke knew that Sakura's definition of "trying" was relentless and difficult to say no to.

"So… that's it then," he ventured.

"That's it. It's over."

Sasuke smiled, and at that, Sakura looked like she was about to cry. It was fleeting enough that he knew he imagined it, but it still bothered him.

"Are you going somewhere?" he asked, gesturing to her flak vest and headband.

"Mission. Gonna be a long one," she said quietly, trying to hide the trembling in her hands. Despite the good news, there was an overwhelming feeling that something was very wrong.

"Sakura," he said, and she looked up at him. "What's going on?"

"Will you promise me something?"

He frowned. That was not an answer.

"You're going to try to be happy, right? You're going to take this chance to have a real life, a happy one?" She looked around. "Maybe get a painting or some throw pillows?"

He nodded slowly, studying her. He knew her well, better after these few months of seeing her nearly daily in some aspect or another. She was not acting like herself. This was not the sort of question she usually asked him.

"Tell me," he insisted.

She locked eyes with him, and something, some sort of strength, returned to her. "It's nothing. I'm just tired. But I have to get going."

She stood, and he mirrored her, still frowning.

At the door, Sakura turned abruptly, her face inches from his, and reached out, her fingers landing gently on his face for a moment. Her hand traced from his ear to his jaw before dropping back to her side.

And then she left. He did not see her again.