I stood outside of Ino's door for what seemed like an hour. I fidgeted with the bottle of sake tucked neatly under my arm and, for a while now, I had been wondering about the strangely earthy smell I had picked up somewhere between the liquor store and her doorstep. I looked down at my black flip-flops and grimaced.
Dog shit. Figures. I rolled my eyes and groaned. It seemed like an omen, but I tried not to dwell too much on that thought. I should run while I had the chance.
Ino opened her door, wearing her reserved little smile for when customers usually arrived at the flower shop. However, as soon as she saw it was me, her smile grew, showing rows of bleach-white teeth.
"Sakura! You made it!" Ino pulled me into a hug, which I gladly returned. She looked me up and down. "And on time no less."
"Actually, I'm early. AND bearing sake." I swished the bottle in front of her face and she rolled her eyes. She knew me all too well.
"I swear, Forehead-girl, your pervy sensei has rubbed off on you more than you lead on." Ino took my coat and the bottle of sake from me and hung the coat on the hanger. I followed her into her kitchen where she put the bottle on the counter.
"Hey, at least being late isn't hazardous to my health little miss 'cigarette'." I countered. Ino pouted a little, which would have been cute had she not been wearing a deep purple cocktail dress. She loved playing hostess.
Meanwhile, I paled in comparison. Ino was drop dead gorgeous with flawless skin, long silky-smooth blonde hair and blue eyes that could only be outshone by my teammate, Naruto, and of course, the deal breaker: her c-cup bra size.
While I have bright green eyes and light bubble-gum pink hair and small b-cup boobs. Wearing a long black skirt with a light green cami didn't really help my situation much either. I was odd and I knew it.
"Hey, at least I have a valid reason for smoking, alright." Ino wagged her finger at me. I looked down at the floor. "My reason is the same as yours, remember?" I sad quietly. Ino gave me a sympathetic look and gave me another hug.
Chouji popped his his head put from the doorframe. "Well if it isn't Sakura-san!" He smiled and walked into the kitchen. I giggled a little bit. "Nice to see you too, Chouji." I gave him a quick hug, my arms barely going all the way around his frame.
"So," I breathed. Ino and Chouji looked at me, "What's for dinner?"
They smiled and I followed them into the dining room, where the sweet smell of grilled chicken and corn on the cob was floating in the air. I loved Sundays.
--
--
"See you later forehead!" I no shouted out the door, Chouji's arm casually resting on her waist. I waved back and nodded, then continued my journey home. But I could swear that out of the corner of my eye, she gave him a little kiss on the cheek before closing the door.
I remember when they first got together, stuck under the mistletoe two Christmases ago. We tease her about it, and about how they are polar opposites...but Ino just rolls her eyes and brags about how sweet he is and how good of a chef he is and always corrects someone when they call him fat. She will get up in your face and wag her finger, "He's not fat! He's fluffy!" and go on and on about when they cuddle. She is helping him eat healthier, so he's not as big as he once was, but he's still a little chunky. And, as a trade, Ino had to agree to try all of his foods that he cooks, no matter how many calories it has. Then, Ino decided that his cooking was 'the best in the world' and makes me come over every Sunday evening for dinner. I always complain about it, but I enjoy it more than I show.
Chouji makes the best dango.
I reached my house, left to me after my parents decided to move to a quieter, safer town just north of here. After the second war, they couldn't take seeing their shinobi friends die in battle, or watch me fight. The house was small, but it held plenty of memories. I redecorated the whole house to my liking and arranged my old bedroom to be a guest room. It was perfect.
I took off my shoes, placed them by the door and took my plastic bag into the kitchen. Ino always has Chouji make extras for me to take home later, which I enjoy usually as a pick-me-up at work when I have late hospital shifts.
I took a quick glance at my clock. 10:43.
"I need to get some sleep..." I mumbled to myself. I don't really know when that habit started, but it's familiar and helps keep my sanity.
I walked into my room and picked up the old Team 7 picture, then sat on top of my bed and stared at it. It's a daily routine...it has been since Sasuke left with Orochimaru eight years ago. I can't believe it's already been this long...
My fingers traced the old photograph and lingered a bit longer on his face.
"You've changed so much..." I whispered, remembering the day that everything changed.
Madara had announced war on Konoha, with Sasuke standing by his side. He was emotionless and distant. Kakashi-sensei, Sai and I were standing there, just looking at them, prepared for the worst.
And it got so much worse.
I can't even remember all of the people that they killed, civilians and shinobi alike. And his sharingan...changed. It's red color even more sinister than before.
He was wearing an akatsuki cloak. He looked just like his brother...
I walked into an abandoned alleyway; the smell of blood was everywhere. And... what I saw I didn't want to believe. Sasuke was standing over Kakashi's body. He was dead.
I remember not moving, just standing there...frozen. Sasuke calmly looked over at me, his emotionless façade never faltering once.
"Sakura." He acknowledged. I took a step back. How could his voice be so perfect when everything else was so...disturbed. My breath was coming out in shallow pants as I backed up slowly, our eyes never breaking contact. His sharingan was still in the first stage, but it was still hypnotic.
As soon as I blinked, he was gone.
Hot breath tickled my neck. I didn't dare turn around.
"Sakura..." he breathed. This wasn't fair! I couldn't do anything, nothing! I was twelve again...I was weak.
I heard him pull his sword out of its sheath, and he pressed it against my neck.
"Where is he?"
No. No, this can't be happening...why? Why does he want Naruto? He can't really be in the Akatsuki...can he? No...No...why?!
Sasuke pressed the blade closer to my skin, drawing blood. "Tell me, Sakura," he whispered, "I have ways of making you talk."
Tears slid down my face as I lingered on the memory. I was lucky that Neji, Kiba and Shikamaru were able to knock him out when they did. As soon as he was down, I applied a drug to slow his movements and keep him asleep until we reached the ANBU headquarters.
I haven't seen him in the past 4 years. I never even gave a visit to him while he was locked up in the high security prison. He has four guards stationed outside his door at all times, I can't believe how short his leash is.
The man he was with, Madara, made a run for it at the last minute, realizing that Naruto was far out of his grasp. At the time, he was at , training with the old frog to be a sage. He came back two years ago and, after we told him what had happened, he went crazy with emotions. It took the rest of the 'rookies' to calm him down, and eventually he decided to pay a visit to Sasuke, and talk with him there. I turned down his request to join.
After he was done at the prison, we both went for a walk...I remember it so clearly...to the memorial stone where our sensei's name was now engraved. We cried and mourned. He cursed Sasuke repeatedly...I stood a little stronger than he did though...he was breaking. It was all I could do not to upset him any further. Naruto has lost so many of his precious people to all kinds of circumstances. I haven't lost nearly as many.
So...that night...we cried in each other's arms, comforting one another. We felt more like brother and sister than anything. The next morning, we both wore fake smiles, hiding any real emotion. Even after four years, the pain still hasn't really subsided.
I decided then...I wasn't going to die for him. He would probably lose himself if any more of his nakama died.
I decided to stay a medical ninja, but I am currently station to train others in the medical field and I am only called out to battle under important circumstances. I needed the comfort of being able to spare Naruto with one less loss.
I put the photograph back down on the shelf, dusting the glass off. It was raining hard outside. Through the window, I could see water flooding off the roof, like a curtain enveloping my house. The roar of the rain drowned out everything else.
No one deserved to be outside in that.
The doorbell rang. It usually had the obnoxious decibel count of a warning siren for an enemy attack, but I could barely hear it over the waterfall pelting my roof. I got up off my spot on the bed and walked over to the window to get a better look. Usually, even under the best viewing circumstances you could only see a small fraction of the person standing at the door. Maybe a back of the head and a little bit of their ass if you were lucky, but with the rain the way it was, you couldn't even see the sidewalk.
I hesitated. I was home alone, something that never really bothered me before, but the weather made me wary. Who would be out in this downpour? In my mind, there were only two possibilities--an insane enemy shinobi bent on my destruction, or a religious fundamentalist visiting from another village. If I was really unlucky, it would be the latter. I could have pretended not to exist, but I was a person with a social conscience. The weather was pretty bad. Hell, I would let a talking frog in for tea and a blanket.
So I opened the door.
The man was tall, very tall actually. He towered over me a good fourteen inches, of course, I wasn't one to talk; after fifteen I never grew a centimeter past five-three. He was wearing a dark jacket over a drenched t-shirt and jeans. He had one hand in his pocket and the other was holding dark, dripping hair away from his eyes. Niagara falls pored over him. His clothes stuck to his body and as he shifted his position, I could hear the squish of rainwater in his shoes. He looked at me and blinked in the rain. A sad look appeared on his face as his dark eyes met mine.
"Sakura..." he said.
"Sasuke!" I yelled over the noise. "Oh my God! Sasuke! Don't stand out there in the pouring rain! Are you crazy?"
His eyes widened a little bit. I could see his body relax considerably.
"No." I added. "Fuck off."
And I slammed the door in his face.
--
Oh...my...god. Oh my god. Ohmygod.
I ran to my bedroom again and checked my calendar.
March 2nd.
Shit. My hands gripped my hair, threatening to leave me bald if I pulled any tighter. How could I have missed this?! Sasuke was supposed to be released from prison yesterday! I collapsed onto my bed and released my hair from my death grip. Instead, my hands decided to place a pillow in its grip, which I gratefully buried my face into and screamed as loud as I could.
There was absolutely no way that I was letting that traitor into my house. Screw the fact that I was in love with him, he brought eight years of misery to my life, moments I will never get back. I freed my pillow from suffocation, stared instead at the whites of my ceiling, and groaned. Tomorrow was going to be hell.
I dreamt of his face. Tears stained my pillow.