A/N: You are all so wonderful, thank you so very much for honest feedback and encouraging words! I suppose there's only a few chapters left. Intimacy and vulnerability are cultivated, not a given, and I hope I continue to capture at least some of that.

Hope everyone is healthy and safe!

- H.

Something Left

Chapter Eleven

The envelope was made from thick ivory paper and the note inside of it was written on weighted paper, too. Yet Sakura held it at the end of her fingertips as if it were fragile. Seated at her kitchen counter, she read the neat, inked words over and over again, pensive and impatient while she waited for her inner turmoil to sort itself out.

Knocking on the front door startled her from her reverie. Since Sasuke had hosted and cooked every night since their return to Konoha, she had offered to host this evening. Quickly, she glanced at the clock. Instead of using the time after her shower to prepare the meal like planned, her groceries sat unpacked on the counter and almost a half hour had passed.

"Come in," Sakura called.

She hurriedly put the note back into the envelope, resealed it, flipped it over face down, and stuck it underneath a nearby medical textbook. Hearing Sasuke approach from the hall, she reached for a notebook and pen, and then pretended to jot down important thoughts.

Sasuke was unbothered at her lack of welcome. He came to stand behind her, wrapped his one arm around her waist, and leaned over her shoulder. The pen slipped from her fingers when he rested his chin into the crook of her neck.

"Hey," she said softly, turning so their cheeks touched.

He looked at her, and though she'd swear her smile was genuine and warm, he seemed to be searching for something. Sakura shifted in her seat and found his lips, distracting him with a more enthusiastic greeting, and he wrapped his fingers around her hip, distracted.

One thing Sakura had learned in their last week together that surprised her the most, but perhaps shouldn't have: what Sasuke lacked in sharing with words, he more than made up for with physical affection. It was difficult for either of them to spend more than a few moments without touching in one manner or another, even if it was only a light graze while busy with another task or sitting close enough for legs to press against each other.

Feeling guilty for postponing dinner preparations, Sakura withdrew from their kiss first.

"What do you want for dinner?" She asked, turning back to the groceries. "I haven't been home in awhile, so I went and got everything and anything I could think of."

Sasuke kept his hold across her abdomen and his chin rested on her shoulder. "Do you want me to cook?"

It didn't sound like when Naruto or Sai attempted to get out of her meals, but Sakura still bristled. "Do you want me not to cook?"

His amused breath tickled her neck. "No, but you're still working."

Sakura felt another flicker of guilt. She pushed the notebook away from her. "No, I'm done. What are you in the mood for?"

Before she could list their options, an aggressive pounding on the door followed by feminine shrieks interrupted her. Sasuke released her and both of them looked to the door, surprised at the passionate pleas, the voice and chakra signature identifying the source as Ino.

The most recent threat against Suna from the Anti-Alliance Movement had been thwarted, in part thanks to the capture of Kousuke and other missing-nin who Ino herself had helped to interrogate, but could something else be wrong?

"I'm not expecting her," Sakura explained, brows furrowed in concern. She hurriedly went toward the door, calling out to her friend. "Coming, Ino."

When Sakura opened the door, the taller kunoichi burst through it. "Forehead!"

"What is it?" Sakura asked worriedly, checking but finding no blood or wounds on her friend.

Instead, she was met by the view of Ino passionately shaking her hand and a large, dazzling princess-cut diamond set on a white gold band.

"Oh," Sakura gasped in admiration.

"Sai proposed," Ino exclaimed, hand still shaking even as Sakura reached for it. "We're getting married!"

Sakura held Ino's hand, and when the latter squealed in excitement, so did Sakura. "Oh, Ino, congratulations."

Sakura wrapped her friend in a tight embrace. "I can't believe it. I mean, I can, but I worried he'd keep over-thinking it and never ask."

"You know him, he does over-think it all, but he – wait, you knew?" Ino pulled back from her friend.

"Sort of," Sakura smiled. "We knew he planned to ask you soon."

At the mention of 'we', Ino looked over to see Sasuke standing in the hall. For a brief moment, the surprise overshadowed her enthusiasm. "Oh! I'm sorry, am I interrupting?"

Sakura looked to Sasuke too, but before she could figure out what to say, Sasuke shook his head. "You're not. Congratulations, Ino."

Ino's surprise to see him faded; she was too excited and enthralled with her own recent romantic development. "Thank you, Sasuke. What do you mean, you knew? Tell me everything!"

Sakura laughed, and when her eyes lingered on Sasuke, he turned to exit back down the hall. "I'll take care of dinner."

"Thank you, Sasuke-kun." She meant it, her appreciation glowing in her excited jade eyes, and then she turned back to Ino.

"No, you tell me everything first," Sakura proclaimed. "How did he propose?"

The two of them sat together on the couch, sitting so close Sakura could continue to hold Ino's hand and admire the ring, while Ino sighed dreamily.

"Oh, Sakura, it was perfect," she insisted. "He was perfect."

Though it took forty-five minutes to share what Sai would have explained in less than five, Sakura listened attentively to every word. Over the years, from the first moment Sai was interested in being with Ino and then throughout their relationship, he'd sketched or painted countless portraits of her. While she knew he liked to paint her, and that he drew her from memory on his longer missions away when he missed her, she had no idea the extent of it. It turned out he'd kept all of his artwork of her over the years. After taking her out to eat at her favorite dining establishment, he'd brought her home and showed her the collection. She was so shocked while looking at the display, she hadn't noticed when he went down on one knee until she turned and almost tripped over him. Even then she was confused, until she saw the ring in his hand and heard his declaration of the all the things he loved most about her, paired with one of his rare, certain smiles.

Sakura grinned when Ino told her how she'd sobbed when saying yes, and then jokingly hushed her when the details of what happened next became explicit. The two of them laughed, and Sakura congratulated her again.

"What about that?" Ino whispered loudly, mischievous as she jerked her chin toward the kitchen.

Certain it was possible Sasuke could hear every word even if they whispered, Sakura laughed quietly. "We're uh, we're dating."

Ino's eyes widened. "Officially?"

Sakura nodded.

"Since when?"

Sakura couldn't help but laugh again, too happy at Ino's news, and her own news, too. "About a week ago, I guess."

Ino grinned triumphantly. "So, Sai and I won the bet."

Sakura had forgotten about that. A few months ago, Naruto thought he had won the bet when he'd stumbled onto them the morning after their first kiss. She remembered him saying Sai predicted it would be a few more months longer, which apparently, had been true. Sakura shook her head in disapproval.

"Of course you were involved in that too, Ino-Pig."

"Sorry, Forehead," Ino said, not apologetic at all. "Sai knows you both too well, and I think it's safe to say I'm more educated on romantic entanglements than Naruto and Kaka-sama."

Sakura couldn't be upset about it though and shook it off. "Well, come on, have you talked about when you'll have the wedding?"

This opened another chapter book of initial thoughts and half-formed plans. Ino wasn't halfway through describing ideal venues and gown designs when Sasuke came back out. He expertly balanced a tray with three bowls of food, chopsticks, napkins, and three glasses of sake. Both Sakura and Ino looked up in surprise, then gratitude.

Sasuke sat on the floor next to Sakura's legs while the three of them ate and listened to Ino's enthusiastic ramblings. Sakura interrupted with frequent questions, often to clarify color, textures, and names for guest lists, and Sasuke ate his meal without hearing the half of it.

"You know he'll ask you to be a groomsman," Ino said, pointing her chopsticks to Sasuke. "You'll say yes, won't you, Sasuke?"

He paused after his next bite. There was no such thing as telling a determined Ino no about anything, Sasuke had come to understand over the years, and assuredly her wedding was no exception.

"Only if he asks without showing me any artwork he's painted of me," Sasuke answered dryly.

Ino's jaw slackened at the Uchiha making a joke, and Sakura burst into a fit of laughter. Half a moment later, Ino's surprise was replaced with laughter, as well.

"No promises," Ino teased in warning, smiling into her next bite of food. "Artwork is his preferred mode of communication, after all."

"Hn."

"And you, Sakura," Ino started, becoming serious. "I wanted to wait to ask you, I've had a million clever ideas of how I'd ask you, but... Oh, but I can't wait. Will you be my Maid of Honor?"

Sakura reached for Ino's hand again, this time to hold it affectionately. "Of course, Ino."

There was more laughter, hugging, and crying, until Ino finished eating and excused herself, excited to reconnect with Sai after his meeting with Kaka-sama so they could go find more friends to share the news to.

"Thank you for dinner, Sasuke," Ino said happily, embracing Sakura one last time.

Her words were said with more warmth than he'd heard in her tone toward him since they were all children. He assumed it had less to do with her engagement, and more to do with finding out about him and Sakura dating. He accepted her thanks with a nod.

After she left, Sakura's home became quiet and calm again. The excitement had left a permanent smile on Sakura's lips, and she turned back to Sasuke with an apologetic sigh.

"Thank you for dinner, and for staying," she told him, glad he hadn't left.

He shrugged, unbothered. Together they picked up the empty dishes and glasses and went back to the kitchen. Upon entering the room, Sakura's glance unwillingly turned to the inch of the envelope that remained in view under the medical textbook, but she just as soon focused on the sink instead.

"You cooked, let me do the dishes," Sakura said pointedly, grabbing what remained in his hand.

Sasuke took the seat she had earlier. When her attention was focused on the sink, he looked down at the ivory paper beneath one of her books. Twice he'd seen her almost flinch at the sight of it, even as she tried to busily avoid its direction. First, when he'd arrived at her home and she'd said she was finished with work, pushing the notebook out of reach while glancing at it with a flash of a frown. Then, when they entered the kitchen and she seemed to be reminded it was there, her grip on the dishes tightening when she looked away from it.

"How was your day, Sasuke-kun?" She asked while looking at the dishes, but he still removed his eyes from studying the paper she apparently didn't want him to see.

"I told Tenzo I planned to leave in six weeks. I'll turn in my formal resignation tomorrow."

"Really?" Sakura wasn't unhappy, but surprised at his promptness. "What'd he say? Does he understand?"

"Aa." Sasuke brushed a hand through his hair. It was longer than he'd ever grown it before. "We planned how to transition me out."

"I'm sure Naruto will be excited to hear it," she said, placing finished dishes on the drying rack.

Sasuke looked once more at the hidden paper. "How was your day?"

Perhaps he wouldn't have noticed her hesitation under other circumstances, but he noticed it now. "I'm so happy for Ino and Sai. I could've had the worst day, and it wouldn't matter anymore."

She sounded honest, but still, Sasuke asked her, "Did you have the worst day?"

"No. Today was busy, there's so much to do before we meet with Gaara, but it wasn't a bad day."

Though nothing was set in stone yet for the new clinic, Kakashi had given them his initial stamp of approval and directed Shikamaru to start the plans for an official meeting with the Kazekage and his advisers.

After Sakura finished all of the dishes, she turned back to him, as honest of a smile as her words earlier. There was a hint of tiredness in her, but nothing more.

"More sake?" She asked, but already she reached for the bottle he'd opened earlier.

"If you drink more," he asked, pushing his o-choko toward her, "then will you tell me what's bothering you about that letter?"

Even though he didn't look toward it, Sakura instinctively did. With both hands on the sake bottle, she gripped it tight and frowned.

Impressed more than she was bothered by the intrusion, she sighed. "How did you know?"

It had been as simple to read her as the alphabet when they were genin, but that had changed drastically over the years. Though there were times he hadn't a clue what was on her mind, she still tended to wear her heart on her sleeve. She was too sincere of a person to hide her secrets from anyone, least of all herself.

"You were trying to avoid looking at it."

"Yeah," Sakura said, as if he hit the nail on the head. "I guess avoiding it is exactly what I'm trying to do."

She offered him his sake, and he took it, but waited patiently for her to explain. Sakura swallowed her sake as if it were a shot, and then placed it down with her lips pressed tight in determination.

"Read it," she said, as if she didn't care at all if he did.

Sasuke tried to discern if she was truly comfortable with sharing the letter's contents with him. Sensing this was the reason for his hesitation, Sakura lifted the textbook and pulled the envelope out so she could hand it to him herself.

As soon as Sasuke took it from her, he recognized it. The thick ivory envelope, Kakashi's formal handwriting, and the Hokage's seal split from when she had opened it. It was the same letter he and Naruto had received two years prior. Though he knew what to anticipate, he opened it and read it.

Haruno Sakura,

You have been nominated by Nara Shikamaru and Hatake Kakashi to be examined as a shinobi for progression in rank. Please consider the upcoming Jonin Exam on 15 August 2020 as an opportunity to prove your qualifications.

Sincerely,

Elders of Konohagakure

Hokage Hatake Kakashi

Sasuke held the note with as much care as she had earlier. Though he felt certain she was upset about it, he couldn't understand why.

"I shouldn't have told him I can fight with chakra scalpels, or that I've finally been training on advanced genjutsu."

Sakura was surprisingly serious as she poured more sake, but looking at Sasuke's untouched drink, she capped the bottle and put it away.

"Why?"

"He wouldn't have nominated me."

"Other than being awarded the rank, this is the highest form of accomplishment a shinobi can attain."

"I know that."

She picked up the o-choko, but her chakra control slipped. The little glass cup shattered in her grasp and sliced into her hand, the sake spilling across the counter.

"Shit," Sakura gasped, reaching for her notes and books. Sasuke pulled the rest of her papers away from the spilled sake while Sakura reached for a kitchen towel with her uninjured hand. After cleaning up the sake, Sakura clenched the wet rag, and then tossed it to the sink with a sigh.

Sasuke wordlessly approached her as he reached for her injured hand. She cupped her hands together while he gently pulled the shard of glass from her palm. As soon as it was out, Sakura's healing chakra activated with ease, and he watched the wound disappear. He continued to hold her hand, standing before her, and waited to see if she'd explain. She didn't.

Sakura pulled away from him and cleaned up the rest of the glass pieces. "This was a gift from my grandmother. I'm pretty sure the set has been handed down to every Haruno as a wedding gift for generations. When I didn't marry by twenty-two, she sent it to me. The note said, 'Your father says the clinic is your soulmate now. Congratulations. Love, obaasan.'"

She smiled wryly as she trashed the pieces. "Oh, well. It's a set of three now."

Sakura washed the blood off her hands and then was no longer able to avoid the subject with small tasks. When she could tell Sasuke was questioning her, she clasped her hands.

"You know, there are plenty of respectable shinobi who remain Chunin for their entire lives. I have responsibilities at the clinic, we're talking about opening another one, I'm more than happy and committed to focus on medical ninjutsu. Why should I care about being sent on A-rank or S-rank missions?"

As if the only purpose of Jonin rank was the opportunity for higher level missions, she waved it off dismissively.

"You don't want to be promoted?" He asked, skeptical.

"No," Sakura confirmed. "You know, I used to be obsessed with becoming stronger, but it was only because I was ashamed. It was only because I wanted to prove myself to you and Naruto. I don't need to do that anymore."

He agreed with the last part. "No, you don't."

She shrugged, leaned against the kitchen counter, but she hardly seemed relaxed. "So, what's the point? I'll focus on medical ninjutsu and the clinics."

"If there's no point," Sasuke said, taking hold of her recently healed hand and lifting it up in question. "Then why are you breaking family heirlooms?"

He flipped her hand to evaluate her perfect palm. Her medical ninjutsu always fascinated him. Sakura was unsettled at his words, but she didn't deflect them. After another moment, she wrapped her fingers around his explorative ones, and sighed.

"I won't pass, Sasuke," she said, not humble, but honest. "If I test in August, I'll fail."

Her words surprised him. "Why do you think that?"

"I know that," she corrected him. "Jonin shinobi qualifications include mastery of two elemental chakra natures. It took me years to master water, and I'm nowhere near mastering another one."

Sasuke guessed her earlier comment about chakra scalpels and genjutsu was because she assumed Kakashi planned to substitute mastery of two elemental chakra natures for her other skills.

"That's not a written rule," he said. "It's just one of the better-known considerations."

"Exactly," Sakura said thinly. "So, I can manage a clinic, and I make sure traumatized children are safe, and I can stand for fifteen hours straight in an operating room to perform impossible surgeries. Those are great skills, I'm proud of what I can do, but they aren't Jonin qualifications."

Sasuke wasn't the best at tact. "You'd rather not test, not even try?"

Sakura frowned at his blunt words but wasn't offended by them. She went to answer, but felt the syllables stick in her throat.

Sasuke attempted to be gentler, not for the first time thinking if Sai could figure this sort of thing out, he sure as hell better be able to. "What's so frightening about failing it's not worth trying?"

She shook her head as if she didn't know, but she did. When Sasuke made no sign to let the subject go, patient as he leaned against the counter beside her, she was forced to think through the answer for herself. After several moments of silence, she answered aloud.

"I can hear them." She said it reluctantly, as if making a confession. "I can hear my mother saying she's surprised I didn't pass, even though she isn't, even though a few minutes later she'd tell me she told me so. And I can hear my dad, oblivious, explaining to me for the millionth time that women shouldn't be shinobi, and why didn't I listen to him the first time. Even if I decided not to tell them, I'd still hear them."

Sakura brushed back loose strands of hair that had dried in messy waves. "Now, at least, I'm good at what I'm doing, and there's nothing they can hold against me anymore."

But testing to become Jonin and failing meant there was a chance they were right. Sasuke may have had limited time with his parents, but it was enough time to remember what it felt like to fear their disapproval and disappointment. At the time, it felt like he was always in Itachi's shadow, the lesser of two sons.

"It's your choice," Sasuke said. "But they wouldn't have nominated you because of anything you said, or anything they thought you could do."

Sakura stared at him, uncertain where he was going with it, and he finished the thought. "They only nominated you because they've already seen you prove the qualifications."

She blinked, felt as if her lids were heavy. Thinking of it that way made sense logically, but insecurity gnawed at her regardless. It had been a long time since she found herself wondering these sorts of inescapable thoughts. Am I good enough? What if I can't do it?

Remaining within the comfort zone she painstakingly achieved felt far more preferable than willingly stepping out from it.

"Will your parents disapprove of me?" He asked her, assuming the answer was a certain yes even if she wouldn't admit as much.

This drew her out of the stupor at once. "Maybe, but I don't care at all what they have to say about it, so you shouldn't worry, either. It's really none of their business, especially when there's so much they don't know or understand."

Always so stubborn and hot-headed when it came to the people she cared for most.

As if he made his point - rather, as if she'd made her own point - he lifted a brow. Sakura realized he asked her on purpose, bringing out her more vehement side with ease, and she reflected on the words she'd just said aloud.

"Hmm," Sakura hummed. Her parents didn't understand her, her ninjutsu, or her aspirations, either. So, how could it matter what they said or thought about it?

Thinking of it in these terms did make her feel encouraged to at least consider it. She turned to him, pressing one hand to the counter to left herself up to kiss him.

"Thank you," she murmured on the corner of his lips. When she shifted back, her eyes were wide and bright, more like herself. His hand drifted to lie atop hers on the counter.

"Enough about me," she declared. "Tell me about the transition plan?"

As Sasuke detailed to her what he and Tenzo had discussed, she traced her fingertips across his palm, while he wrapped his fingers around her inner wrist, each of them thoughtless as they altered who touched who. With a few competent options for a replacement in mind, Tenzo and Sasuke had set a training plan for him to be able to select and train his own successor.

"So," Sakura propositioned at his conclusion, "you'll at least be here for the next six weeks?"

"Aa."

She walked her fingertips up the inside of his forearm. "Think you can spare a few hours a week to train with me?"

Sasuke withheld his sense of surprise. "In what?"

"Where to start? Genjutsu, like we talked about before," Sakura said, and when this time his surprise did show itself, she grinned. "I can't date the world's greatest genjutsu-user, famous everywhere for his visual prowess, and not train with him. What kind of foolish shinobi would that make me?"

Appreciating her newfound humor on the subject, he agreed. "Alright. What else?"

She pressed her lips together. "Well, my other elemental chakra predispositions lean toward earth and fire. I'm horribly mediocre with both of them. I'd ask Tenzo to train with me on earth, I think earth may suit me better, but it sounds like he's about to become far busier than usual."

"Fire jutsu," Sasuke said what she didn't.

It was no secret that fire jutsu was his family's famed specialty, and Sakura watched him carefully as she nodded.

"When?" Sasuke asked.

She smiled at his lack of hesitation. "Tomorrow night?"

"Alright," he said, flipping her hand to run his thumb over the pulse on her wrist.

It was becoming something of an unspoken agreement; each night, one of them would come up with a reason to spend time together the following day, as if an excuse was needed.

"Are you asking me to train with you because you'll take the exam," Sasuke asked her carefully, "or because you want more time with me?"

But she wasn't unnerved at his question; instead, she hummed thoughtfully, releasing their hands as she stepped before him, a touch of playfulness in her smile.

"I think," she started, wrapping her arms around his neck and looking up to him, "it's both."

"Hn." Sasuke wound his arm around her waist and brought her into his chest, closing the last of the narrow gap she had left between them.

This was another sort of unspoken agreement. Though they started their nights with dinner and discussing each other's days, it inevitably led to this. She wasn't sure which of them initiated, but they came together at the same time, the magnetic pull between them strengthened by familiarity. Every time Sasuke kissed her, it still felt like the first time; an eruption of nerves, thrills from anticipation coursing through her blood, and a startling, sweet sensation of loving every single second of his touch.

He was the patient one, each kiss more deliberate than the last, and though they stood, even though it was her kitchen, it felt like being transported to another plane. Blissful, Sakura wound her fingers through the loose hair at the base of his neck, holding him tight, and his hand slipped lower to a comfortable hold as he cupped her bottom cheek.

When she needed to breathe, she reluctantly leaned back.

"Did you agree to train with me because you want me to take the exam," she asked, faintly smug while watching him breathe, too. "Or because you want to spend more time with me?"

She was teasing, but Sasuke leaned down, kissed the hollow of her neck, serious. "Both."

Sakura held onto him tighter. Almost too quiet to hear, she asked, "You really think I'll qualify?"

He didn't pause. "Yes."

Then, the last of their unspoken agreements: to kiss, to touch, to explore and taste, but to stay behind the line of going too far, too soon.

It was dreadful.

It was wonderful.

.

.

Stealing a glance at the clock as she passed through the hall, Sakura noted it was half past five; an hour past her scheduled time to be there, but almost two hours earlier than she'd ordinarily leave for the night. She thought of the reports, chart audits, peer reviews, and unopened mail stacked on her desk and knew she needed to get back to her office. Yet, no matter how much she tried not to, thoughts of all-things-Sasuke crowded her mind.

Sakura turned a corner and approached the staircase; up a floor, to her office, or down a floor, to the exit. It was while she stood there, caught in a self-induced trance, guilt losing its battle with the far more persuasive power of temptation, that she heard the commotion.

The protests of nurses, crash of metal, tools clanging to the tile floor, an inhuman cry, the sort of anguish that made a man sound feral, and then, her name. Her name being bellowed, the syllables distorted by the pain-filled plea. Instantly, Sakura spun on her heels and raced toward Naruto.

"Sakura-chan! Where is she?" Then, another screech of metal and booming crash.

Down the hall and turning the corner in two and a half seconds flat, Sakura burst through the large swinging doors to find him. There was no time to wonder what was wrong with him, only the gut-churning instinct that told her whatever it was, she should be prepared for the worst.

Yet the sight in front of her still sucked the air from her chest. Naruto, red-faced and wild; but Hinata in his arms, pale and limp as a dead fish. Pale and limp as a dead woman.

When Naruto saw her, his guttural cry ripped its way from his throat. "Sakura."

She tried to breathe, couldn't, and moved toward him despite initially stumbling in her steps. Sakura had seen her closest friends on the brink of death before, but on missions, on the battlefield, during wartime. Not on an ordinary Tuesday night. Not when it was her best friend's pregnant wife.

As if he were furious, Naruto crossed the room with two steps, slamming into Sakura, his motionless wife immediately pressed between them.

"Please," he cried, forcing Hinata into her arms even as he would not let go.

This close, Sakura felt the body's warmth, the subtle but precious pulse from a heartbeat. Finally, Sakura snapped to attention. "What happened?"

Naruto's response was gargled, incomprehensible, and Sakura pulled Hinata from his stubborn grip, a lethal glare piercing through his panic.

"Naruto! Tell me what happened."

Already, Sakura found and moved Hinata to a nearby gurney, gestured for two nearby nurses to take over transport, and whispered harshly the instructions for someone to get Maru, the fetal specialist.

"S-she had a seizure, or something, I don't know, I don't know," Naruto responded, watery eyes widened from shock as he looked to Hinata. "She was fine one moment, and then it started, and she fell, and I - I didn't catch her, and she was on the floor, and - and … and …"

He couldn't finish.

While the two nurses pulled the gurney, lobby doors flung open as they pulled Hinata through, Sakura already started to work, her expert steps moving backward as they raced to an OR. Her healing chakra was pressed to Hinata's forehead and heart, but she couldn't check the baby. Not in front of Naruto. Not if she couldn't control her own expression.

Naruto tried to follow them, his feet moving too fast for his body, and he reached for Hinata's hand.

"No, Naruto," she said, as sharp as any katana. "I need to focus on her. She needs me to focus on her. You need to stay out there."

He opened his mouth, a rumble of protest spilling out, but she shot him a glare more severe than one the sharingan could deliver. As if broken, Naruto's shoulders slumped and he reluctantly listened; but his ocean-blue eyes were still wide and frantic as he studied Sakura's probing hands. Her hands that didn't probe near Hinata's stomach, her womb, their child - his child.

The doors swung to a close, and he watched through the slim glass windows. Naruto wasn't the fool he used to be. He noticed, he stared at Hinata flat and still on her back, her very-visible bump of their child inside of her, and a new, different scream started from the depth of his chest, the core of his soul.

"Send Gamakichi to get Sasuke," she shouted, and then her nurses turned them down the hall, out of sight and into the nearest open OR.

"What the fuck can he do for her!" Naruto slammed another cart into a wall, the few remaining nurses scrambled away from him, and Sakura didn't have time or the attention span to tell him - it wasn't for Hinata, it was for him.

Her entire mind, her entire being, focused on the two lives depending on her.

.

Despair on the battlefield and destitution in the hospital were no strange sights to Sasuke, but when he arrived on the first floor of Konoha's Emergency Room, it felt unfamiliar. An eerie, uncharacteristic quietness for a place that was usually buzzing from chaos, nervous glances of stiff-shouldered staff, and a male nurse who immediately greeted him, wordless and swift as he led Sasuke to the stairs.

"He's on the second floor, your first left." The nurse's instructions came from grimaced lips, but Sasuke didn't acknowledge him. In a flash, he crossed the steps and made the first instructed turn.

There was no more medical staff at their usual stations in what looked like a room demolished by a tornado. Carts, chairs, and even a desk had been upturned, with papers, supplies, and medical tools splayed haphazardly across the floor. One of the walls was decimated; in its place, a heap of chunked plaster, fractured wood and scorched insulation. In the center of it all, Naruto paced back and forth, a whirlwind of the traditional rasengan forming thoughtlessly in one hand before it spun itself out of form.

"Naruto," Sasuke said evenly, evaluating the damage of the room.

When Naruto didn't answer, didn't turn, Sasuke's scowl deepened into a frown.

"Naruto," he said, this time louder.

The rasengan came to life again in Naruto's real-hand; Sasuke watched as its form shook and spun tempestuously, but still Naruto hurled it into the nearby wall. Yet it dissipated before contact, and only Naruto's bare fist hit the wall and ran through it. Without the power of the jutsu to brace the impact, Sasuke knew for a fact every bone in his hand would be shattered.

Sasuke flash-stepped to Naruto's side and angrily jerked him back, the limp hand loosening as he removed it from the hole in the wall.

"Damn it, Naruto," Sasuke growled, eyes on the bloodied, broken hand.

Finally, the dobe acknowledged him. Like a fog clouded him and his eyes, Naruto looked up and blinked, but didn't make a single sound, didn't say anything at all. It sent a chill down Sasuke's spine; he halted the harsher words he planned to say, and instead just looked to his best friend.

"What happened?" Sasuke asked, his hand lingering on Naruto's taut shoulder.

Naruto shook his head, as if he hadn't heard the words and planned to ignore the question regardless, but Sasuke shook him, held him tighter. "What happened to Hinata?"

All Gamakichi had said was that Hinata was hurt in the hospital and Sakura requested him. Sasuke thought it was an accidental but minor injury, or premature panic about the baby's arrival. Now, Sasuke realized it was far worse.

Like he needed to swallow glass first, Naruto cleared his throat. "S-she was fine, reading in the bedroom, we were talking, I - I was interrupting her, trying to tell her about s-something Konohamaru showed me, and then she just… she just .."

Sasuke didn't blink, and Naruto's shoulders tightened, as if his skeletal frame tried to hold itself together despite an inner storm that sought to break through the surface.

"She was fine, she just looked c-confused, like she d-didn't understand what I was saying, so I - I started telling her more, but she - she looked far away-like she was lost. S-she's always so patient with me, but I thought .. I thought she was ignoring me, thinking about her book…"

Here, Naruto choked on his words. As if he'd committed a crime and couldn't find the resolution to confess it.

"I didn't notice," Naruto said, a hoarse whisper. "I d-didn't notice, she started to s-shake, she was shaking, all - all of her was shaking, but I had turned around."

Sasuke squeezed his shoulder so hard it had to hurt, but neither of them noticed.

"S-she fell, and I h-heard her fall from the bed, and I turned, but - but I wasn't fast enough," Naruto's chest heaved, the pain of the recent memory burning worse at the irony, that the son of the Yellow Flash wasn't fast enough.

Angrily, "I wasn't fast enough to catch her."

Now, the hot, flood of tears released. Naruto's sobs filled the destroyed, emptied room with startling clarity; his anguish was so desperate, it felt like it burned a hole through Sasuke's gut.

Under Sasuke's grasp, Naruto's shoulders shook violently, the full severity of fear and despair unleashed now that he'd said the words aloud.

"Was she… breathing when you brought her here? Is she with Sakura?" Sasuke asked, trying to gather the facts, trying to ascertain how dire the situation might be.

When Naruto's head bobbed up and down one time, Sasuke took a breath; Hinata hadn't been dead yet, and now she was in Sakura's capable hands. There was no one else, no other medical nin or healer in any of the five hidden villages, who could care for her like Sakura could.

"She will be alright, Naruto," Sasuke said, a clumsy promise, but an honest one.

But Naruto's shoulders rocked harder. When he pulled himself up to look at Sasuke, his eyes were widened with raw, unfiltered fear.

"W-what if the baby do-doesn't -"

What if the baby doesn't make it? Naruto's unbridled pain shocked Sasuke's system like lightning drawn to a rod. His own eyes widened as his next breath was stolen from him.

"Listen to me," Sasuke said, his own voice unrecognizable to him. "Sakura can save both of them."

Naruto was desperate to believe him, and Sasuke was desperate to ensure he should believe him. Though neither had doubts about Sakura's skill, both of them were keenly aware of the cards the Universe had dealt to their families so far. Death had been promised far more often than Life.

Thinking of Sakura, of the time he had been half-dead and walking through Hell's dark gates when she'd pulled him back, brought him back to life, he stared into Naruto's frightened gaze.

"Sakura will save them, Naruto."

Naruto's shoulders heaved again with one final defeat of despair and he slumped into Sasuke's hold. As he sobbed through the fear and the pain, Sasuke gripped the shirt on Naruto's back. He stared into the wall, the often dormant Rinnegan abruptly whirling to life. If Sakura failed, he had something that wouldn't.

.

.

"Naruto-san?" It was a shy nurse who came through the lobby's doors, and in an instant, Naruto shot up from his half-seated position against the wall.

"W-what is it?" He demanded.

It had been a half hour since Sasuke arrived and calmed him down, but every moment in that span of time felt like an eternity of torment.

"Hinata-chan and the baby are fine," the nurse assured him.

Naruto slackened. "What?"

The nurse smiled, unbothered at the chaos and destruction around her, as she patiently approached Naruto. "They are both alright. Dr. Haruno is still with Hinata-chan, but she said you can come back, if you're calm enough."

Sasuke didn't realize he had been holding his own breath until he heard himself exhale. Naruto, ever fluid in his sincere range in emotions, was instantaneously alive, loud and excited.

"Of course I'm calm," he hollered. "Let's go!"

"Hinata-chan needs to rest, so if you are quiet and calm, that would be best," the nurse said gently, a touch of nervousness as she added, "Dr. Haruno asked me to tell you that."

"Right," Naruto said, forcibly focusing to quiet himself. "Right, I'm calm. I'll be quiet."

The nurse smiled again, opened the lobby door further, and Naruto shot through it. As the door swung to a close, Naruto glanced back for half a second, but Sasuke tucked his hand into his pocket, and both of them knew, neither of them needed the other to say anything then.

.

.

In the next hour, the desolate lobby Sasuke had found Naruto in was filled with its staff once again. As a few nurses and orderlies came to clean up the disarray, Sasuke helped them. Though he felt a sort of responsibility over the destruction on behalf of his friend, none of the staff seemed upset or annoyed at the mess. There was too much reverence and empathy for Naruto.

More time passed with no sign of Sakura. When one of the nurses came through the large, swinging doors that Naruto had been taken through, he stared, accidentally channeling his questions into the single staff member. When the nurse looked up, she was at first frazzled to be the subject of scrutiny, but then she recognized him as Sakura's other teammate.

"Uh, Uchiha-san?"

The nurse approached him with the tepidness Sasuke had become accustomed to, though often he found himself wondering the source of it; the legacy of his family's massacre, his time as a traitor and international criminal, the battle between him and their beloved future Hokage, or his overall dark and distant disposition. It was usually impossible to tell.

"If you're waiting for Dr. Haruno, she's in her office upstairs," the nurse supplied knowingly, a nervous smile.

"Aa." Then, after a pause. "Thank you."

The nurse nodded while avoiding his gaze, as if she had done or said something she shouldn't have, and scurried away from him. Sasuke didn't waste time thinking about it, but turned for the stairs, swift to take the steps to the third floor.

It was only once he reached the third floor landing that he remembered Gamakichi had said Naruto summoned him because of Sakura. Even if Naruto had been too absorbed in Hinata's well-being to mention Sasuke's presence in the waiting room, Sakura would still have known it was likely he'd been there.

Sasuke's steps were hesitant as he approached her office door. It felt strange, like an odd thought that didn't belong, to consider that Sakura didn't want to see him.

Behind the closed doors of her unlit office, he looked through the glass window, eyes drawn to the unmistakable flash of pink, flat and muted in the darkness. She sat at the edge of her sofa, elbows dug into her knees, her forehead slumped into the palms of both her hands. It was as if not an ounce of chakra was left in her still, sunken frame.

Sasuke thought he had seen her distraught, and thought he had seen when she was depleted of all energy and reserves; the sight of her now told him he'd been woefully wrong. Here, in the privacy of her office, she was unrecognizable from exhaustion.

Now even more so, he felt invasive; all of his instincts told him to turn, that she hadn't wanted to see him, hadn't wanted to be seen. Logic, though, reminded him that as a skilled kunoichi, she would already have heard and sensed his chakra nature. He couldn't turn back now.

Another moment and he was careful to open the door, silent as he stepped into her office. With the flood of light from the hall, he noticed the sofa was at an awkward angle, with deep dents in the cushions, as if someone had placed two hands and snapped each section in half. He thought of her seated, gripping the edges and doing it by accident. In the back of his mind, Sasuke remembered the fourth or fifth time he'd noticed she changed the furniture in her office and made an ancillary comment, assuming she was the kind of woman who found frequent redecorating fun. But "fun" had nothing to do with it.

Her hands were always gentle with him, so gifted to heal with others; but here, in her own space, in moments alone, uncontrollably destructive. It wasn't something he'd thought about before, and it bothered him, churned up something unfamiliar in his gut.

"Oh," she sighed, admonished herself, as if she'd been rude to a guest. "Hinata and the baby are alright, did they tell you?"

When she lifted her face from her the palms of her hands, her eyes warm and searching, tone gentle and assuring, it was suddenly the Sakura he knew, abrupt in her return to a normal state of being. But he saw it like an ANBU soldier putting on the mask, sliding it over their real face, taking on a responsibility that superseded their personal self. This Sakura, attentive to his concerns and needs, taking care that everything and everyone was alright, was the mask. What was underneath it was the sight he'd seen a moment before, when she wanted to be alone, when he wasn't with her.

"Aa."

Distracted at this realization, at this new, different side of her, he said nothing else.

"It's a rare disorder," Sakura murmured, leaning back onto the broken sofa. "High blood pressure and seizures that start after the first trimester. Now that she's being monitored, and if she remains on bed rest, she should be alright until full-term. I'll probably need to do an early C-section if the baby is at risk, but if I can get her through another ten weeks without any severe episodes, the baby will be alright, too."

For the first time, Sasuke didn't take her healing capabilities for granted. Her exhaustion, the weight of her words now; she bore the responsibility of keeping her best friend's wife and child alive. How heavy was the burden that death would only be stopped through her intervention? These interventions weren't a given; they were her blood, sweat, chakra, and tears that she used to make sure someone lived.

He wondered how often she struggled to beat back Death as it fought savagely to steal her patients out from her still working hands. Whether she was able to win, or inevitably lost, what did she do afterwards - alone in the sort of reality most people went their whole lives experiencing only a handful of times, that she experienced almost daily? That there is but a thin, threadbare line in the human body and soul, the line between when a person is here, and then suddenly, when they are gone. Permanently.

Why, of all things, of all specialties, of all professions, had she chosen this life? She once told him her work at the hospital felt as though it were meant to be, like her superior chakra control set her on this path. But was it an aptitude that drove her to medical ninjutsu, or need? When he'd left for Orichamaru, when Naruto left to train with Jiraiya, and she had been left alone in Konoha, did she know then how it would come to an end for him and Naruto, fighting each other to the death? Right before he had left Konoha the first time, she had been there on the roof of the hospital, almost caught between him and Naruto's lethal attack until Kakashi flung them apart.

It was that incident that occurred before he left to find Orichamaru. It was that incident that, somehow, in some way, alerted Sakura he might leave Konoha soon.

Sasuke knew his own answer to his own question. Whether it was a conscious decision or not, she'd gravitated toward medical ninjutsu, learning the skills that would be necessary to save him and Naruto for the inevitable event when their rooftop fight repeated itself, without Kakashi there to intervene, without the last of their internal reservations to keep them killing each other. And she had been right. When it came to the end, she was the only one who had been there to save them.

To save him.

"What's wrong, Sasuke-kun?"

Her concerned words disrupted his thoughts. He had been looking at her, but through her, remembering when she'd been younger; back then, he sometimes thought of her as naive, or felt like she didn't understand. Now, he looked at her, and knew she always understood.

Sasuke walked toward her, slow and thoughtful in his steps. He took the seat on the ground beside her legs, rested his back on the damaged sofa, and looked ahead.

"You called me to come for Naruto."

Sakura hummed softly. "I couldn't be there for him and Hinata at the same time. I couldn't stand to leave him like that, though."

He meant she called him to be there for Naruto, not for her. But he didn't know how to point this out to her, didn't think it would be fair to do it, either. So, Sasuke said nothing, and not for the first time, wished his mother were alive.

"He blames himself," Sasuke told her.

"Nonsense," Sakura scoffed. "There's no way he could have known, even I couldn't have known. It's a disorder that presents after the first trimester, it didn't show up in any of the preliminary work-ups, in any of her medical history; you know, I even checked her family history thoroughly, she is the heir, they have that well-recorded, and there was no indication."

After another huff, she added. "I couldn't have known. He couldn't have known. It isn't his fault."

Sasuke let his shoulder rest against the outside of her thigh. "It isn't yours either, Sakura."

She sucked in a breath, as if his words insulted her. "I know, but…"

"You said there was no way to know."

"I know," she murmured, reluctant.

Her hands fell to touch him, comforted at the feel of his pulse in his neck, in running her fingers through the long strands of his dark hair.

The near-death experience of his best friend's wife, seeing Naruto out of control in despair, and finding her, alone in a realm of grief he'd never been meant to see, Sasuke should have felt something, too. He didn't know what exactly, but he knew, if he'd been normal, he'd feel something, too.

But he felt numb. The sort of emptiness that had taken up residence inside of him before, blocking out any pain or fear. It would surface later; in an irritable mood with someone who didn't deserve his sharp tongue, wrath in disguise at the order of a mission, or in the pounding of adrenaline as he raced outside of Konoha's gates, running as far away as he could. In one way another, it would surface later. It always did.

.

.

It was official. First, he turned the resignation letter into Tenzo, the Konoha Police Captain. Next, he submitted a notice of resignation to Kakashi, Hokage of the Hidden Leaf. Though it was something he'd spent considerable time thinking through, and even discussed at length with both Naruto and Sakura, it felt uncomfortable and surreal. It was like attempting to put on a sweater that was just a little too tight, too short; it seemed to fit, but didn't fit right. After he returned from his post-probation traveling, it was the start-up of the police force that had anchored him, given him direction and a clear objective for being back in Konoha. Now, though, there was nothing but a blank canvas in the new path before him.

Without intention, recent memories of winding his fingers through pastel pink hair, holding onto the full weight of her, the feel of her hot, bare skin, and sharing their meals, their evenings, their thoughts on the day, as if these things no longer existed for just one person to do, but for the two of them. And older memories; her patience with his pitiful attitude during physical therapy, being overwhelmed, even awe-struck, at her strength the first time they sparred as adults, and the countless times she smiled unreasonably wide simply at the sight of his arrival to a meeting, a team dinner, a visit to the hospital.

It wasn't the police force that anchored him in his return to Konoha, he corrected himself. It had always been Sakura. The path before him might be entirely foreign and new, but she was still the same, steadfast support.

Was it fair to leave her, though? He knew it would not be easy for her, no matter how selfless she would strive to be. As much as he could not imagine taking up permanent residence in Konoha, he could not justify expecting her to tolerate if he came and went, leaving Konoha for diplomatic missions several months a time.

Worse, though, was the selfish realization that she might be completely fine without him. Their first week together had shown him she didn't require for him to be there in the moments she should have needed him the most. And if this were true, there was only one person to blame for it, and it was not her.

At the conclusion of his meeting with Kakashi, his self-loathing boiled past a point even he could not contain. As usual, his old sensei seemed acutely aware of the calm before the storm, and was not afraid to acknowledge it.

"What's your hesitation, Sasuke?"

But Sasuke didn't answer him; instead, with the door opened by Kakashi, he entered with his own agitated question. "What did she do when we were gone?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, what did she do," Sasuke all but rolled his eyes, frustrated by his own inadequacies on more than one account. "Without a team, without her family, what did she do?"

"Oh," Kakashi said, understanding. "Well, I admit, I don't think I was fully prepared to be Team Seven's sensei, and I certainly wasn't prepared to be Sakura's only remaining teammate. I tried, but… Well, there's a reason she sought Tsunade-sama instead."

Sasuke said nothing, no less frustrated, as he stared out the Hokage's office window that overlooked the village.

"What's on your mind, Sasuke?"

Kakashi might have been one of the few people who would bother to ask, let alone get by in asking it.

"She… she doesn't need us," Sasuke said, his best attempt at putting his recent thoughts into some semblance of order.

Both Kakashi's brows lifted to the ceiling, but Sasuke wasn't paying attention to notice it. Carefully, Kakashi asked, "What makes you say that?"

"She handles things, on her own," Sasuke said, as if he wanted to be angry, but even so, respected it. "She coddles Naruto, appeases Sai, encourages you, and …"

And believes in me, though Sasuke couldn't seem to say it aloud, even to Kakashi.

"She takes care of us," Kakashi concluded for him.

"Hn." Then, this time open with his anger, "But she doesn't need us to take care of her. She takes care of herself."

Kakashi was quiet for a while. Then, answering Sasuke's original question, he said, "She did what we all did. She trained, and trained harder. She focused on becoming a strong shinobi, and nothing else. Whatever she needed from you and Naruto when you were genin, she learned to forfeit it or to take care of it herself. That's not necessarily a bad thing, Sasuke. I think it's a lesson all of us are forced to learn eventually."

The answer didn't seem to appease Sasuke in the slightest, but Kakashi knew that it wouldn't. He put a hand over Sasuke's shoulder, a brief but encouraging touch, and then put both hands into his pocket.

"It's for the better if she doesn't need us," Kakashi said. "All we can do is make sure that if she wants us, we're there for her."

Sasuke knew what his mentor, the closest man he had to a father, really meant. All Sasuke could do was ensure she knew if she wanted him, he would be there for her. Had he made that clear?

.

.

While Sasuke showered in her bathroom down the hall, Sakura hurriedly attempted to finish reading an important report from her team's recent program evaluations. For the second time, therapy results appeared to be successful, instead of stagnant. She didn't hear the water stop running, didn't notice Sasuke's walk down the hall, until she felt his looming frame stand behind her.

"Hey babe, one more minute," she murmured, so concentrated on the text in front of her that Sasuke didn't think she realized her use of the pet name aloud.

Deciding to take her promise of sixty seconds seriously, he remained behind her, familiar now in his hold across her abdomen, the rose-and-vetiver scent of her freshly washed hair oddly reassuring as he rested his chin on her shoulder.

It was probably closer to the three minute mark when she lifted her head, fingers relinquishing the pages that she held, but he didn't mind. Belatedly, her mind recalled their most recent encounter.

"D-did I just call you babe?" She whispered, half in horror.

"Aa."

From the corner of her eyes, she could see his lips lifted into a smirk, and she relaxed. "And… and you didn't hate it?"

He shook his head once, his chin gentle as it slid across her shoulder, and she relaxed into a smile.

"Alright, babe," she said, testing it out, leaning further into him so she could feel his hold over her frame. "How was your day?"

Leaning back with her neck exposed to him, she looked up to see him fully, adoration and sincerity so abundantly clear on her face; it dissolved the last of his reservations.

"You know that I'm here now?"

"Yes?" She raised a brow, tucked her arms across herself to hold his arm and pull him closer. "I know that."

But his onyx-and-violet orbs were piercing, their intensity telling her that she hadn't understood him right.

"You weren't going to tell me about the nomination."

"Oh," she flushed. "Well, I would have, I think, eventually…"

"You hid in your office after Hinata's surgery."

She blinked, opened her mouth to offer an explanation, and then closed it again. It wasn't isolated incidents he was bringing up to her, it was a pattern. The pattern of excluding him from the things going on with her.

Sakura didn't offer a swift rebuttal this time. She spent a moment considering not only what he said, but that he felt compelled to call it to her attention. While she hadn't recognized the barrier that she had constructed for herself, a bottle to store all of her emotions in and away from him, as if they might bother or annoy him, she noticed it now.

Hearing his gentle observations, feeling the strength in his current hold, and understanding that he was not only giving her permission to share, but even wanted her to – it brought the barrier down with one, fell swoop. All of a sudden, that bottle of those emotions uncorked, too.

"Sometimes I feel like a machine when I'm at the hospital, I don't feel anything at all," Sakura admitted, swallowing her nerves. "But sometimes I feel all of it. And I have nowhere to put it. I try to sit with it, to accept it, until it passes. Sometimes that works, but sometimes… sometimes it's too much."

Then, thinking of the most recent event with Hinata and her baby so close to death, with nothing but her own healing chakra and pure, stubborn willpower left to save them. Though she'd kept herself together long enough to succeed in the emergency surgery, afterwards it felt like all of her had come undone.

"Sometimes I'm so afraid, I can't move," she said quietly. "That if I move, I'll lose it, and I won't be able to get myself back together again."

Sasuke looked at her, a sort of open fragility he hadn't seen from her in many years, the kind she'd been hiding. This was the Sakura underneath the mask.

There were no cheap words to offer, no false assurances; but he listened, shifted his arm to hold the arm she'd wrapped around his, and kissed the corner of her lips. Even more than before, she let go of her tight posture, and relaxed completely into him.

Sasuke kissed her again, his lips firm to her temple, as if through it she could know, I'll be here to pull you back together again.

For a moment she let herself be comforted by him; the opposite of feeling as if she'd fall apart was how it felt now, wrapped under his arm and pressed against him, solid and secure.

"I didn't realize I was doing it," she murmured, a soft frown. "It isn't that I didn't want you involved, it's just… well, I suppose I'm still more used to being on my own, you know?"

It wasn't accusatory, and he didn't feel defensive; if there was anyone who understood the ease and familiarity of being alone, it was him.

He'd had more time to think about it after his meeting with Kakashi, though. While he knew it was true, that every man and woman, shinobi and civilian, had to come to terms with themselves in solitude, it did not mean one had to come to terms with being alone.

"When I first left Konoha you told me that if I went, even if you had others around you, it would be the same as if you were alone."

Sakura chewed her lip; somewhat embarrassed at the cries of a twelve-year-old girl, but also made aware that her words, at the time a desperate plea to get him to stay, had been prophetic, too.

Eventually, she hummed a noncommittal response, focused on this newer realization. Though she spent half her time helping children with their own coping mechanisms for grief and loss, she hadn't considered the full depth of how she'd coped with the loss of Sasuke. Even knowing how much he cared for, even after she forgave him, it was natural defense mechanism to keep him at a distance, not to invite him closer. Sakura closed her eyes as she leaned against him, focusing on his warmth, on the gentle sound of his pulse, his heartbeat. It wasn't a necessary mechanism anymore, though.

"I was alone," she admitted at last. "I don't know why, or how – maybe I'll never understand it – but I've always loved you, and I always will. Maybe those were the desperate cries of a little girl who didn't understand half of what she meant, but she wasn't wrong, either.

"I missed you every day, and every night. There wasn't a single day that felt ordinary or complete without you. I was alone when you left."

Though it had been no secret her affections remained both times he left Konoha, it was not something she had shared to him vocally in their last few years together. Now, she opened her eyes, honest and vulnerable.

"If we weren't together now, I'd still be alone," she said, quieter.

He understood now she wasn't talking about physical distance, maybe she never had been. She was talking about the sort of loneliness a heart aches from, the soul mourns during.

Sasuke lifted his arm from her waist. It continued to amaze her, how gentle and soft he could be; it was such a startling contrast than his sparring or jutsu. He took the loose strands of pastel hair that fell before her eyes and carefully tucked them behind her ear, the back of his fingers remaining along her cheek for a moment. Then he turned his hand, holding the base of her neck as she lifted herself back to view him better.

Earlier his words had been a reminder to her, but now he repeated them, a promise. "I'm here now."

This time, Sakura understood. He was telling her she didn't need to be alone anymore.

Sakura reached for him too, trailing her fingers from his temple to the length of his jawbone. He felt very real to her then, like she had introduced a new part of herself to him, but he'd already known her the whole time.

"I know," she finally said, confident. "You said you always would be."

That particular promise was made during a moment neither of them could forget anytime soon.

"Aa," he whispered, and no longer able to refrain, kissed her amidst his next words. "I meant it."