Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.
Summary: "You're all wet," she says, exasperated. "I don't care if umbrellas aren't macho enough for you, you should at least pretend to care about your health." "Its not water," he replies. SasuSaku.
Disbelief
Part One of Two
Scowling, she pushed her door open halfway, paused, and slipped inside. By force of habit, she picked her way across her front hall, easily choosing the non-squeaky floorboards, and then flicked the second switch in the panel as she stood on the floorboard directly to the left. The lights flickered on, and she impatiently tapped the top screw, forcing them to brightness.
She really needed to get rid of some of these traps. Honestly, she had just asked Naruto if he could create a few for her just in case she had to leave town for a few days, and next things she knew – bam! – her house was a virtual minefield. Complete with mines.
She walked up the stairs, carefully taking the steps in Fibonacci one through five – a Sasuke touch, one of a few he had added – and flicked the first light switch as she stepped on the second-to-last stair. The fluorescent light bulb flickered to life as she walked into the bathroom. Here, at least, she had no need to worry about traps once she stepped over the tripwire in the doorway, avoided eye contact with the right left corner of the ceiling, and didn't touch the window.
Standing in front of the mirror, she scrutinized her reflection, sighing. Late nights and early mornings were doing nothing for her complexion, and her eyes – ugh. Disgusting. Carefully, she washed her face, and then brushed her teeth. A swipe of night cream – meant for nine hours of sleep, but who really had time? – and she stepped quickly over the tripwire, crossing over another tripwire into her bedroom.
As she began to slip out of her clothing, she suddenly stiffened. A chakra signature in her kitchen, crossing up the stairs. Whoever it was must have memorized her… oh. She began to relax, and fixed her clothing. Just Sasuke. Briefly, in the moments before he entered her room, she wondered why he was there – and how long he had been there.
"Sasuke-kun?" she asked, meeting him 78vin the doorway, "Why are you here? Oh, goodness, you're all wet! I told you," she added, grabbing a towel from a stack of newly-washed clothing, "You should carry an umbrella. I don't care if it's not macho enough for you…"
She trailed off, having reached up, only to find his hair startlingly dry. He chuckled, low and tired, "Its not water."
She drew back, gazing at him; then, as her eyes widened in consternation, she reached across him for the light switch, flicking it on as she pushed the bottom screw.
"Oh, shit, Sasuke-kun! You're bleeding on my tatami mats! Do you know how expensive those were? You had better have gotten paid well for that mission, because you're paying to have them cleaned," she said, her gentle motions and soft voice contrasting with her harsh words.
Quickly, she slit the shirt open with the kunai on her bedside table, hissing in shock. "Sasuke-kun! Why didn't you go to the hospital? How long have you been here?"
He started to shrug, aborting the movement when it became obvious that Sakura was holding an alcohol-soaked cloth in one hand. "I did go to the hospital," he said. "They told me you had already left."
Her gaze softened, and she bet down, cleaning the ugly gash across his midriff. Her voice muffled by her position, she suddenly spoke, "Could you hand me those bandages?" Sasuke glanced around, then grabbed the roll of bandaging off a table and placed it in her hand.
As his gaze returned to rest on the pinkette bent over him, it caught on a picture frame. It was solid black, so different from the soft silver-lavenders that dominated the room. The picture it held was very familiar to him. Rather, the scene was – her was not aware that a picture had been taken.
It had been at the Annual Cherry Blossom Festival, two years ago. She had been dressed in a white kimono, covered in whorls of red; he had found her dancing among the swirling cherry blossom petals, and he had stayed to watch, only for a while, it had seemed. But she turned and beckoned to him, and he shook his head and walked away.
"There," she suddenly said, breaking him out of his reverie. "That's done. And the next time you need something, Sasuke-kun, just come and find me. I wouldn't want you to bleed to death or something, just because I was out drinking or on a date or something!"
His dark gaze locked on to hers, "Dates?"
"Dates," she repeated, lifting her chin. Stupid overprotective teammates. If they had their way, she might as well become a nun.
"Anyways," she said, "I've mostly healed that. Just don't do anything too strenuous tonight, yeah?"
He seemed to still be staring at her. She shook her head, sighing, "Yes, Sasuke-kun. I do go on dates. I'm a woman, with hormones. And I occasionally need to get drunk. Anyways," she added dismissively, "it's not like I'm rich enough to turn down free food. And Lee-kun gets me cosmos."
She gestured toward the vase of flowers on her dresser, "The vase, I think, was a gift from Neji. He's so emotionally constipated; who gives a girl a vase?"
A quickly glance at Sasuke's blank face caused her to babble on, "Of course, it was full of flowers at the time. Long-stemmed blue-white roses, baby's breath, and some very nice pale green fronds. Crytalline-looking ones. Very pretty. Turns out, though," she rambled on, "that he was actually interested in Tenten. Pretty good for me, because…l" was he getting closer? Ah, shit.
"Because even though he's very pretty, he's not really my type," she continued. "And he took me to a really fancy restaurant – after buying me a Suzuki's dress, because I wasn't dressed properly. Suzuki's! And he walked me home and everything! Tenten," she concluded, "is one lucky girl."
She blinked and back away – he was suddenly a little too close. "Um, yeah," she rambled. When in doubt, just keep talking. "Have you heard about Shikamaru and Ino? I did that. Shikamaru asked me out," she said, pointing to a pair of fans hanging over her bed. "He needed help with the whole Temari-Ino thing. Said these were a bribe from Temari, and he didn't want them around anymore."
Was it her, or did he look angry? Definitely just her – why would he be angry at her getting dates? Especially meaningless one where she tried to help emotionally constipated men get the women of their dreams? It wasn't as if he didn't… alright, he definitely didn't go out. She nearly snorted – for all she knew, he was asexual and planned on rebuilding his clan on his own. She pretended that that didn't hurt – that reminder that he could never love her back.
"Chouji," she suddenly said, a little too loudly. She lowered her voice and tried again. "Chouji," she said again. "Um… yueah. He actually asked if he could take me out tonight, but I told him you were getting back today and we might go get ramen with Naruto." She sent him a mock glare, "I was not expecting you to be late or bleeding on my floors."
Something flickered across his face, and finally, he spoke, "There was a time when you would have refused them all." For me, he added silently, and the words hung like mist between the two. His dark eyes burned into hers, and finally, she blinked, glancing away and tinkling mechanically, "Don't pretend you actually liked that, Sasuke-kun! I might even start again!"
Her forced smile faltered as he continued looking down at her. "Sasuke-kun?" she asked, hesitantly. "I was just kidding. I know you hated it when I was like that."
He blinked, once, as if clearing his head or waking from a dream. "Hn. Of course I did – who could possibly enjoy having an annoying girl hanging from his arm during training?"
She smiled bravely, just a little more broken, and turned away from him. "Yeah," she said, trying to keep her voice light and failing utterly. "Just rest up, alright? And… I'll see you and Naruto tomorrow. Good-night, Sasuke-kun. Turn the lights out on your way out."
She turned towards her bed and blinked hard, a single tear dropping to hit her sheets as the others were pushed away. She sniffed, acutely aware of the judgmental presence in her doorway. "Good night, Sasuke," she said. "Just… just go away, would you? I'm sure you don't like watching me be weak, after all."
He shifted, clearly uncomfortable and bound by some misplaced sense of duty. She had just opened her mouth to shoo him away when he said, "That's not what I meant." A bitter laugh came from her mouth, and she turned to face him. "Sasuke-kun," she said, "you always say what you mean."
His eyes narrowed, abruptly, and he flash-stepped closer to her. She blinked, rapidly, and took a quick step backwards, stumbling into her bed. A pale hand reached out to catch her, hauling her up so she was forced to look into his hard, glittering eyes. "You," he said, "are wrong."
She laughed, liking his touch more than she should. "Be carefully, Sasuke," she said. "You're starting to act like you care."
His eyes narrowed, "Have you not been listening to me?"
Struggling for kunoichi calm, she gazed up at him. "Yes," she replied. "You told me, essentially, that you think I'm either deaf or stupid. Because its perfectly obvious that you say exactly what you mean, all the time."
He let go, turning away and glaring at her wall. "You," he said as she watched, perplexed, "are so annoying." She blinked, and her mouth opened and closed several times. "Who are you to say, when you go on dates with every man who crosses your—"
A well-placed slap cut him off, "Is that what you think of me? That I'm… that I'm some kind of whore?" His eyes flashed, and she sputtered on, "Fine, Sasuke, jus tget the hell out of my house! I can't believe I ever liked you, you inconsiderate bastard! How could you…" her speech was dissolving into sobs, and she stepped up to him, shoving him into the tripwire across the door and slamming the door shut.
The whistle of sharp objects flying through the air on chakra strings failed to lessen her anger.
Naruto frowned, looking about the desert ramen stand. Where were Sakura-chan and temee? He sighed – that bastard had better not have done anything to Sakura-chan… actually, hadn't he said he was going to Sakura-chan's?
He called for another bowl of miso ramen, and quickly began gulping it down. It wasn't like either of them to be late; in fact, he could usually expect Sakura-chan to be early, and Sasuke-temee to be even earlier… oh! Standing, he waved excitedly to Sasuke as the man crossed the street.
"Hey, temee!" he cheered. "Where's Sakura-chan?"
Almost unnoticeably, a shadow crossed Sasuke's face, and he looked away. "How would I know?" he demanded, voice rough. Naruto took a careful look at his best friend, "Did you do something, Sasuke?" Annoyance crossed his face, and he suddenly snarled, "If you hurt Sakura-chan, I swear I'll –"
Sasuke interrupted him, "Did you know that Sakura goes on dates with everyone?"
Naruto took another look at the brooding Uchiha, before his anger became disbelief, and he burst into laughter. "Ooh," he mocked, "is dear Sasuke-kun jealous?" The shinobi swiveled to glare at him, eyes bleeding red, "Of course not! I just wondered if you knew what kind of person your precious Sakura-chan was!"
Naruto glanced at him, expression melting back into disbelief, "You… you didn't happen to say that to Sakura-chan, did you?"
Sasuke didn't answer, preferring to glare into the cup of tea that now sat before him.
"Oh, God," Naruto whispered, causing Sasuke to toss him a sharp glance. "Sasuke, I think you'd better apologize to Sakura." Sasuke glared harder into the cup, Sharingan wheels spinning. "She… you've been away too often, bastard. I… there are some things…" he paused, running a hand through sun-bleached hair.
"Sasuke, Sakura's been through a lot lately, alright?"
Sasuke turned the spinning Sharingan gaze on Naruto, "What happened?"
The blonde ninja glanced around furtively, then leaned forward and whispered, "Remember that mission she had around the time she left for Cloud? The one she said was just a quick spin for herbs in Sand? She went to that crazy Village out in Orange Country. It was a kunoichi mission."
Sasuke's fists clenched. That Village was notoriously chauvinistic, training women exclusively for kunoichi missions – and extremely susceptible to those same kunoichi.
Naruto's voice cut through the haze, "She… Sakura-chan came back pregnant. She wanted to keep the baby, but something happened, and…"
Sasuke had fallen silent, images – retained for months by his perfectly tuned Uchiha memory – rising to the surface to be reconsidered and judged. They way she shied away from him when he had first come back from Cloud. How she refused to eat oranges anymore. The look in her eyes as they traded stories of their missions. The less-than-momentary flash in her eyes when he asked how hers had gone. The bright, tinkling laughter, so unlike her.
His hand slipped into his pocket as he stood, slowly, robotically; he dropped a thousand-yen note on the counter, turned, and left. Naruto stared after him for a moment, then finished his ramen, smiling. If Sasuke screwed up, then he'd just beat him in training tomorrow. If not, then it was all good.
At least the bastard had paid.
Sasuke paced down the street, slowly and deliberately, like a hunter who knew exactly where his prey was. His mind, though, swirled with half-completed thoughts. Why had Sakura…? When did this…? Why hadn't anyone…? Who had…?
And most importantly, Why hadn't he been there?
He slowed, almost imperceptibly. Why did this matter so much to him? Sakura was… Sakura was just Sakura, and she… Just Sakura, he decided.
…But why, then, did he want to rip apart whoever had done this to her?
They were teammates. Far more than reason enough to be… protective.
There couldn't be anything more to it that that… He paused, leaning against a wall and rubbing his temples. Suddenly, his black eyes flew open, and he thought, almost panicking, What if she is more? Slowly, he reached for the truth, almost too frightened to see it when he got here.
Oh, God. He loved her. On principle, he refused to call on or believe in a higher being. This, though, was more than worth the shedding of pride.
The irony was almost enough to choke him – why? Why had it taken him so long to figure it out? Was it too late now, to win her back?
And then a wave of hurt, She doesn't believe I care. Haven't I shown enough that I care?
Turning, he stalked down the street. What right did she have to keep this from him? Didn't she trust him, at least? Granted, he had left her once, but hadn't he made up for that? Hadn't he been here since?
He hadn't.
He realized that now, recognized what he had been doing for years as running and hiding – unwilling to face his friends, afraid that they, too, would leave him, he had taken far too many missions. He hadn't been here for her at all, he realized.
He paused in front of her door, unsure how to bridge this gap between them, and knowing that he had to try. It was his turn now, and he had let her spend too much of her life chasing after her. He owed it to her to try – Uchiha's Honor.
The door opened before he could make a decision, and her pale face glanced out. "Sasuke-kun," she murmured. "Look, I'm really sorry about missing lunch with you guys, but I'm just feeling too good today, yeah? I'm sorry about yesterday; I'll pretend you're sorry about yesterday, and you can just leave your sense of duty somewhere else and let me sleep."
She moved to shut the door, and he quickly slipped his foot through, "Sakura," he said, almost pleading, "I'm sorry." She blinked at him, tired, and he sighed, "Sakura… please."
Slowly, she opened the door to the halfway point and let him in, leading him to her kitchen. "Tea?" she asked him, lethargically. He nodded. "Sakura," he said. "Naruto told me."
She stiffened, nearly spilled a drop of tea on her counter. "Told you what?"
He replied, watching her carefully for the reaction he knew would come, "He told me about your baby."
The tea cup shattered on the floor, the amber liquid spilling. Pale-knuckled fingers gripped the edge of the counter. "Oh," she replies, her voice completely at odds with her posture. "That's nice."
"No," he says, as casually as he can. "That's not nice at all." She is wary, watching him even as she reaches for a cloth. "In fact," he adds, "I think that it is distinctly not nice."
Carefully, she kneels – not in front of him, never in front of him – and begins to wipe the spill. He watches for a moment, fingernails digging into his palms. "Sakura," he says. His voice shakes, and he pauses for a moment to fix it, glaring into the ceiling, "Sakura, look at me."
She stares at the ground, unmoving, and he wonders again where his Sakura went – his Sakura who was beautiful and bright and alive, and who is this stranger who comes in her place?
But he looks down at her and knows that this is his fault, too. That he can blame himself, and that makes him all the angrier. Why won't she trust me, he thinks, and it hurts more than anything and he finds himself opening his mouth and snapping, "Damn it, Sakura, I know I left you but I came back and I did everything the Hokage told me to and it was all for you, and now you don't even acknowledge my presence and you won't tell me anything, and maybe I haven't been around but I'm trying, and, fuck, why won't you just look at me!"
He's startled her, he sees, and he's almost sorry for a split second, but she's looking at him with fire in her eyes, almost as brightly burning as it once did, and he thinks it was worth it.
"You're not here for me," she bites out, and he begins to doubt. "You're not ever here when I need you and you dare to blame it on me?" He begins to open his mouth, begins to tell her that he's not blaming it on her, but she rages on, as if she's kept this inside her for far too long, and there's no turning back now, "Don't you dare tell me it was all for me, Sasuke. It was all for you. It was always all for you. Everything you've ever done has been for you and your stupid pride and your damn family that I bet wouldn't want you to be this way, and you left and you didn't come back for me, you came back for yourself, so don't you dare tell me it's for me."
She's breathing harder now, and he sees the fire in her eyes dim, and she looks back down at the floor, picks up the edge of the teacup.
For a moment, he believes. For a moment, he thinks that he could walk up to her and hold her and he thinks that he could make her believe that yes, it was all for her, but no.
Instead, he turns and walks out of the house.