Missing Piece

A/N: As you might be aware, I've been forced to take an unexpected break from writing, thus, this short story has become a fluffy, fun way for me to get back into the swing of things. I've been trying to dive straight back into the heat of A Twist in Time's plot, which has proved daunting, so I found myself practicing by writing this instead (but don't worry – the next TIT chapter is on the way!). Hope you enjoy. :)

Inspiration: Naruto Shippuuden Episode 500, particularly, the scene where Sakura receives a letter from Sasuke at Naruto's wedding.

Summary: Sasuke swears he will only return home as a better man – a man redeemed, reconciled for his sins, and worthy of being near those he cares for most. But perhaps he had it mixed up from the start. Perhaps this is a goal he cannot achieve alone and that the very person he needs to reach it is the one he left behind. SasuSaku.

Genre: Romance

Rated: T for language, violence, and sexual themes

Disclaimer: The characters and original Naruto story belong to the great Masashi Kishimoto.

Anyone who falls in love is searching for the missing pieces of themselves. – Haruki Murakami

Part I

Mr. Masuda was having a splendid evening.

The 64-year-old bartender (and bar owner) with wispy, grey hair and square-rimmed glasses was seated on a high stool, sipping on a much-needed whisky after a particularly busy evening.

One of his favourite patrons – a bright, young man and local farmer – was celebrating his wedding right here in a no-name village in the southernmost parts of the Land of Lightening. And how delighted Mr. Masuda had been when he was asked to host the occasion. He had then spent months – with the help of his beloved wife, daughter, and grandchildren – placing orders for the finest ingredients supplied across the Five Great Nations, brewing wine, and hand-crafting decorations. It wasn't every day he had the chance to see so many new and familiar faces gathered in his wood-tiled, breadwinning pride and joy.

But all this to say, when the dancing finally winded down and most patrons were content with their drinks in hand, Mr. Masuda graciously took up the opportunity to fetch one for himself, kick up his feet, and enjoy the sights.

Groups of families and long-standing friends filled the tables lining the pub's old, ebony walls. Lifelong friends were huddled together to exchange stories and couples were strewn across each other in warm embraces with hands entwined.

In all his years, Mr. Masuda was confident that there was no atmosphere quite like that of a wedding, especially in times like these, with the war only three short years behind them. Memories shared, heart-felt reunions, and, best of all, the magical air of freshly kindled love – and all in a night filled with good music, food, and drink. Could there be anything else so grand in the entire world?

Well, any speculation on that would have to wait, because Mr. Masuda was abruptly jarred from his thoughts.

The pub's heavy, wooden door was thrust open.

A hush fell over the room as the chilling, summer night air pooled in and a cloaked newcomer stepped through the threshold. Mr. Masuda got to his feet and fiddled with his glasses. It was far too late for any wedding invitees to show up. Was it a local forgotten from the invitation list? A traveller?

The newcomer strode in slowly and deliberately while the heavy door swung shut behind him. He lowered his hood, revealing dark hair and hauntingly handsome features, and locked eyes with the bartender.

It was Sasuke Uchiha. The famous war hero.

Well, villain-turned-hero might be a better-suited title, though most people were skeptical that any shift occurred in him at all.

He just saved the world because he's in it! Saved his own skin is all he ever did, was the gist of any talk Mr. Masuda had ever heard about the man around these parts.

But Mr. Masuda was not such a quick judge of character. He was, admittedly, a little weary in Sasuke Uchiha's presence, but that never deterred him from greeting the man as he would any other visitor to his dingy, old pub.

He watched Sasuke remove his dark cloak, exposing his black tunic beneath it and the sword fastened at his hip.

"Sasuke, my friend!" Mr. Masuda bellowed. "What brings you here tonight?" He gestured to the stool beside him and scurried around the bar so that he could prepare the newcomer a drink (and, perhaps, to put a little distance between them).

Through the strands of his jet-black hair, Sasuke's dark eyes flitted to the alcohol supply behind the bar. Mr. Masuda chuckled. "Say no more," he said. "Have a seat."

Only after Sasuke took up the offer and tossed his cloak onto the empty stool beside him did the volume of chatter in the pub resume normal levels. But that didn't stop the unforgiving stares pointed in Sasuke's direction – stares which were determinedly ignored.

God knows Sasuke was used to them.

"Whisky?" Mr. Masuda prompted while he fetched and polished a glass.

"Sure," Sasuke grunted in response, eager for a drink of anything that might take the edge off his dizzying thoughts.

Three years. Nearly three years it had been since Sasuke left home as a broken man to roam the land in search of atonement for his sins.

And he tried it all. He wandered foreign landscapes and practiced meditation for months on end, and in complete isolation. Though this helped him feel more attuned to the natural world and his thinking, it didn't quite allow him to shake his deep-seated self-loathing for inflicting pain on others.

So he tried out humanitarianism – from catching bandits to finding orphaned children a home to collecting intel on rising national threats. But none of this properly appeased him either.

No one seemed to remember his humanitarian acts anyways. Not after what he did, all those years ago, as a selfish, misguided piece of a puzzle that mapped out the world's destruction.

And he couldn't blame them. He knew he never would be truly forgiven – that he didn't deserve to be truly forgiven.

But he hoped that one day he might learn to forgive himself.

Mr. Masuda slid a glass of amber liquid across the smooth, wood countertop, rousing Sasuke from his thoughts. "Thanks," he mumbled before taking a generous swig and relishing in the familiar burning in his throat as the whisky went down.

The bar owner eased himself onto the stool on the other side of the bar with his own half-empty whisky in hand. He surveyed Sasuke with a curious gaze, noting crevices forming below the young man's eyes and the rigid, defensive way he held himself. Without his cloak on, it became apparent that he was missing an arm – a brutal casualty of war – with the way the fabric of his tunic hung loosely around what was left of it, and that his hair fell over his left eye to conceal it from view. To conceal the infamous weapon embedded in his eye socket.

Mr. Masuda smiled sadly. "Have you found what you were looking for?" he asked with interest, picking up where they left off whenever they spoke last – probably a year or so ago – though the bar owner suspected he already knew what the answer would be.

Sasuke frowned and lowered his gaze to the countertop, recalling the vague conversation he had with the bar owner the last time he dropped by. Though he hadn't mentioned specifically what his redemption journey was about, the wise, old man seemed to put two and two together. He also, wisely, hadn't asked for any of the specifics, which Sasuke wouldn't have given him anyway.

And to answer the question, no, he didn't find what he was looking for because he didn't know what it was yet.

But Sasuke wasn't good at voicing these sorts of things so he remained silent.

That didn't seem to deter Mr. Masuda from probing a little further. "Well, how do you know you haven't found it yet?"

Sasuke shook his head, solemnly while clenching and unclenching his jaw. "I haven't," was his blunt reply. It's not good enough yet. I'm not good enough yet…

Mr. Masuda leaned into the counter and raised his eyebrows at Sasuke, comfortably, like they were old friends. "You have a home – Konoha, am I right? Maybe you should stay put for awhile and regain your bearings."

Sasuke shook his head again, biting back his conflicting feelings of irritation over Mr. Masuda's prying and gratitude over his caring.

"Well, what if what you're looking for was there all along? Ever think of that?" he asked while pouring himself another drink and beckoning for Sasuke to slide his glass over for a top-up. Sasuke obliged without second thought.

And he didn't know what to say to that. Sure, he missed Konoha, specifically, the few people there who cared for him unconditionally. But I don't deserve it. I don't deserve them yet.

Still, he couldn't help but wonder…

"Because it sounds to me like this search could go on forever," Mr. Masuda went on while taking another sip. "Let me tell you, you'll never feel like you have everything you need. At least, not by yourself."

Sasuke's grip on his glass tightened a fraction. He wasn't sure if the whisky was making the old man spout nonsense or if he was onto something.

"And I certainly hope there isn't anyone waiting for you back there." He met Sasuke's gaze and raised an eyebrow.

The geezer knows, Sasuke thought, taking another swing to distract himself, while flashes of pastel pink hair and bright green eyes flashed in his mind's eye.

He remembered it like it was yesterday. Maybe next time, Sasuke had promised her, all those years ago, when she asked if she could join him on his travels. At the time, he knew she had no place in his pursuit of redemption. She was far too good, too pure, to get mixed up in that.

But next time never came.

Sasuke felt a tinge in his stomach. It wasn't that he'd forgotten Sakura or that hopeful, relentless love in her eyes. A love that he never understood because he never deserved to receive it. No, it was that he could never bring himself to face her – or Naruto, or Kakashi – not as the directionless, guilt-ridden person he was now.

And, in all truth, he hadn't encountered Sakura once since he left. He sent a letter to her on Naruto's wedding day – just a congratulatory statement to the groom that he hoped she would pass along on his behalf. He wasn't entirely sure why he addressed it to her in the first place, but he felt impelled, while giving instructions to his carrier hawk, to remind her of his presence in their lives – in her life – despite his physical absence. He didn't doubt that he was far from the forefront of her thoughts these days, if he was even in them anymore.

Three years is a long time. So was she even waiting for him at all?

"I don't know," Sasuke answered honestly while swirling the whisky around in his glass.

Mr. Masuda shrugged. "Well," he said, "you could always find out."

"I'm going to kill him."

The sounds of furious scribbling, drumming fingers and frustrated groans filled the office of the Executive Vice-President of Konoha's Hospital.

Sakura Haruno was having a very bad day.

Despite the lingering thrill over her recent promotion (which, naturally, she had been positively ecstatic about) and over the fact that she was allowed to resume juggling her private practice, her duties as founder of a pediatric psychiatric clinic, and maintain her long-standing ninja career, today, Sakura just wished she stayed home.

Not that she'd know what to do with herself there. But that was besides the point.

It started with her spilling hot tea all down her scrubs that morning, just 10 minutes before a biopsy she was supposed to be teaching a team of new pathologists to conduct. Then she learned that her clinic would experience a funding cut. Which meant that she would have to make some real tough decisions in the near future, like which staff members to let go of.

And now, as the cherry on top, she was stuck rewriting a report for her brand new intern – a blonde poster-boy who was all talk and a huge flirt. Sakura certainly played no part in hiring the guy, but nonetheless, she was the one stuck with him now. And despite how well he must have done in his job interview, his work was absolute garbage. Sakura was getting the vibe that he just didn't take the work seriously – or take her seriously for that matter, and probably because of her unusually young age for such a highly regarded position.

But either way, the report needed to get done. And if he wasn't going to do it right, and Sakura had no one else around to delegate the work to, her Friday night was going to be long, exhausting, and spent in the parameters of her office.

Not that this differed from any other Friday night.

Sakura loved the medical arts. She loved how she had finally moved up the ladder and earned the respect of her superiors, peers, the village, and partners in other nations. She had found her niche – her passion and something she could do herself without depending on others for. Finally, she was happy with where she was.

But… sometimes there was this nagging doubt.

And it wasn't doubt over her interest and love for what she was doing. But, sometimes, she wondered if the sheer amount of it she did was starting to weigh down on her and suck away any enjoyment she derived.

Not that she ever really had time to think about any of that. She barely had time to think at all.

"Forehead!"

Sakura's hand jerked with surprise, leaving a smear of ink across her report as her office door slammed open.

"Wha-?" Sakura gasped and springing to her feet. Alerted by the familiar nickname, she was unsurprised to see her best friend stride in, her sleek, blonde hair billowing behind her and her blue eyes blazing.

This couldn't be good. If Sakura's memory served her right, Ino was supposed to be working a shift at her pediatric clinic. Did something happen? Crap. I can't afford for anything to go wrong… Not now, not with the budget cut…

Ino didn't slow down her pace until she reached Sakura's desk, where she slapped her hands down and lowered her head while she caught her breath. Geez, did she sprint through the entire hospital?

Sakura was just opening her mouth to prod when Ino finally came to. The words began tumbling out of her mouth.

"Shikamaru and Temari got engaged."

Sakura blanched. Well. She certainly hadn't been expecting that.

"He just proposed this morning on their way back from Suna. They were at an inn and, well… I don't know the details yet. Just that it happened." Ino's chest was rising and falling and she was staring at Sakura with wide, tear-filled eyes. "My teammate is getting married, Sakura!" she went on, her voice thick with emotion. "He finally grew the balls to ask! I just… I…"

Ino paused to breathe and waited for her friend to respond. Sakura had barely moved a muscle since her office had been invaded.

She released a small sigh. "That's… that's great," Sakura said while plopping herself down into her chair. At least nothing happened at the clinic.

Ino placed a hand on her hip and pursed her lips. "Really? Is that all you've got to say about this, Billboard Brow?"

Sakura rolled her eyes at yet another reference to her formerly oversized forehead. "No it's not, I'm just… That's great. Seriously." She forced a smile and gazed up at her friend but as soon as she saw the worry in Ino's eyes, she wished she hadn't. Sakura really was excited by the news. She was just so damn exhausted.

"We're going out to celebrate tonight and you're coming," Ino deadpanned, her eyes narrowing, not giving Sakura any room to protest.

Sakura's heartrate increased. Tonight? She glanced down at her half-finished report (with an ink blotch on it… great) and opened her mouth to ask for details. But Ino beat her to it.

"You need a night out. And a proper sleep. I hate to say it, Sakura, but you look awful. Honestly, do you consume anything besides soldier pills? Those can't be good on your –"

"I wasn't going to turn it down!" Sakura shot back stubbornly and running her fingers through her short, pale pink hair. "God Ino-pig," Sakura added, while putting emphasis on her old friend's nickname, "they're my friends too! Of course I'll be there."

Ino smirked and crossed her arms, her lips twisting into a smile. "Good," she said. "Want to come over and get ready at my place? For old time's sake?"

Sakura shook her head. "I can't leave until I get this report done, but I'll meet you there for sure."

"You'd better," Ino said, while flicking her long hair back and turning with a flourish. "We never do anything fun together anymore so don't even think about skipping out." She reached the doorway. "Ichiraku's at nine. See you tonight," Ino added before disappearing from sight.

Sakura snorted. "I never do anything fun ever anymore," she mumbled to herself, and she really wished she was joking.

I'm a career-oriented woman, Sakura chanted to herself while her wide, green eyes anxiously darted around the bar.

She was the only single person there. And she was blatantly surrounded by couples.

The even-number of seats at their table were filled, all except for the seat on Sakura's right, at the end of the table (which would have been occupied by her plus-one… if she had one). She was sitting beside Ino and her boyfriend, Sai, who were next to Shikamaru and Temari, who were across from Chōji and Karui (the girl from the Hidden Cloud Village he was seeing), who were beside Kiba and his new girlfriend, and then Naruto and Hinata were beside them, and across from her.

Where were all of the single people? Lee, Tenten… What were the chances that they were all out on missions right now? Well, if they were single anymore… It wasn't like Sakura was in the loop about anything these days.

What does this matter anyways? Sakura shook her head and inhaled sharply through her nose. She needed to get a hold of herself. Who cares if she was the only single one there? Sakura Haruno didn't define herself by being with a man. I'm a career-oriented woman!

And, honestly (and Sakura was perfectly aware of it), most boys had given up perusing her. She sure as hell wasn't actively looking for a partner (when on earth would she have time for that?!) and, as Naruto so kindly put it, these days, she was unapproachable and intimidating.

"I don't think guys usually feel comfortable around girls they know could beat them to a bloody pulp," he teased one day, which had earned him a prompt punch on the shoulder.

Well, maybe he had a point. But whatever. Sakura was proud of her strength. She wouldn't be half as successful without it.

And if the men in her life couldn't handle her for her achievements, then screw them. She didn't need one!

"You all right, Sakura-san?" came a polite, gentle voice from across the table.

Sakura snapped her head up, realizing she had been zoning out. She took a sip of her wine and plastered on a smile. "Yes, sorry Hinata." And then she hopped right back into the conversation about the decorations in Naruto and Hinata's new apartment. The newly-wedded couple had just moved in together and were having a few good-natured disagreements over the aesthetics, namely, over the colour orange. Naruto, unsurprisingly, wanted way too damn much of it.

"It'll liven up the place," he said matter-of-factly while (rather obviously) adjusting the collar of his orange button-up.

Hinata giggled and Sakura rolled her eyes. "But it clashes with almost everything."

"To people who have bad taste!" he shot back defensively and Sakura couldn't help but smirk. She sure had missed being around her old teammate. Around all of them.

Everyone got up to mingle around the bar a short while later. Sakura spent some time catching up with Sai, then she properly met Kiba's girlfriend, who was a cat lover named Tamaki, and, of course, she learned all the dirty details of Shikamaru's proposal from the bride-to-be herself.

"That's… so him," Sakura said with a chuckle in reference to how he used a delicate water-style jutsu to form clouds that popped the question on his behalf.

Temari folded her arms. "I'll say," she sneered, though her cheeks were tinted pink. "Leave it to that lazy cloud-gazer." Sakura laughed and Temari playfully narrowed her eyes at her fiancée, who was partaking in a round of shots with the boys.

"What have you been up to these days, anyway? I feel like I've seen you even less than usual somehow," the tall, blonde woman asked.

Sakura flushed and shrugged. "Work, I guess," she replied honestly.

"I heard about your promotion," Temari added while clapping Sakura on the shoulder. "Congrats."

She blushed. "Thanks."

"I also hear you never leave your office."

Sakura frowned, her mood deflating, and shot a seething look to the back of Ino's head. Now, I wonder who she heard that from?

Temari seemed to sense that she hit a sore spot so she chuckled and nudged Sakura to diffuse some tension. "…Which is why I'm so happy you made it out tonight," she added.

"Me too," Sakura answered while forcing a smile and ignoring her nagging thoughts about the report she half-assed to make it here.

The next part of the night went relatively smoothly. Despite the unsettlement she felt over how she was stuck in some perpetual game of catch-up with virtually all of her closest friends, it sure was nice to actually see them and let loose a little. And with a few drinks in her system – and in everyone else's systems – their tongues continued to loosen and the atmosphere grew calmer.

Until…

"Whatever happened to that Uchiha fellow?" Kurai asked with mild interest during a brief lull in the conversation. It was a fair question. She wasn't from Konoha, after all, and barely knew a thing about the mysterious criminal-turned-war hero.

All eyes snapped to Sakura.

And Sakura's stomach turned. What are they looking at me for? she thought, swallowing hard, and her heart suddenly thudding in her ears.

Thankfully, Naruto stepped in. "Who knows," he chuckled. "He's been on the road for awhile. He'll be back before long though, I'm sure." He met Sakura's gaze for a fleeting moment and she saw concern swimming in his blue eyes.

She shot her old teammate a warning glare which she hoped communicated something along the lines of stop looking at me. I'm fine. Then she smiled bitterly and took another sip of wine.

Stupid Naruto. He's not coming back.

"I thought he would have showed his face at your wedding, at least," Kiba added with a shrug, oblivious to the brimming tension over the taboo subject. "Weren't you guys best friends?"

Sakura gripped onto the edge of the bar to steady herself. This needs to stop…

Naruto's calm demeanor remained intact. "We still are, man," he said with a fond smile. "Sasuke sent his well wishes and that's good enough for me." He gave Hinata's shoulder a firm squeeze and she smiled sweetly in return.

Sakura made a break for the bathroom.

The booze must be getting to me, she reasoned while she was hit with an onslaught of nausea.

But after several minutes of dry heaving over the toilet to no avail, it became apparent that she wasn't poisoned or over-intoxicated (heck, she'd only had two glasses of wine). There wasn't a thing in her body that needed to be urgently eliminated.

I'm not waiting for him.

Sakura knew exactly what this episode was about.

You see, there was a beauty in having no time to think about anything. It meant she didn't have to ruminate over her problems. She could pretend they weren't there and escape to the comfort and safety of her long, exhausting work days, which certainly took an emotional toll, but weren't about to up and leave her for three years…

Sakura sucked in a breath and went over to the sink to wash her hands just as Ino walked in.

"Hey," the blonde said breathlessly while giving her friend a once-over.

Sakura avoided eye-contact. "I'm not waiting for him," she said abruptly, and regretting the words as soon as they escaped her lips. Because then her lips were trembling and her eyes were watering and the jagged edges of her shattered heart were piercing her insides and making it hard to breathe.

Without warning, Ino pulled her into a firm hug and ran a hand through her short, pink hair. "I know you're not," she said.

Sakura's arms slumped at her sides as she rested the side of her face on Ino's shoulder. Despite the gap that had formed between them over their months apart, it seemed Ino would never fail to understand what she needed most. "I'm just upset, Ino," Sakura sighed. "I thought that we…" Her voice trailed off and she squeezed her eyes shut in attempt to block out a rush of bittersweet, torturous memories.

She'd given up trying to stop loving him, and instead, busied herself with other things and hoped that the feelings would just fade away with time. But they always seemed to crop up – like annoying symptoms of a lingering cold – and in the most untimely circumstances (like at Shikamaru and Temari's engagement party, for crying out loud). And it hurt and it sucked and she wished she could just brew up an antidote for this emotional turmoil and get on with her life.

And why was this so difficult for her anyways? Clearly Sasuke was having no such trouble letting go of the past. He never came back, like he promised he would.

Now it was time for her to move on. To grow up.

Easier said than done.

"I just feel p-pathetic," Sakura stammered through a hitched breath. "Even after all this time…"

Abruptly, Ino took hold of Sakura's shoulders and lifted her up. Their eyes locked. "You're not pathetic. You're healing."

"Yeah, but… three years…"

Ino rolled her eyes. "Stop treating heartache like a medical diagnosis, Sakura. Everyone recovers at their own pace."

Sakura nodded, solemnly. It just sucks that my pace is so damn slow…

And then, like she was reading her mind, Ino added, "Even the greatest ninjas have soft sports – yourself included. This doesn't make you any less strong."

"Thank you," Sakura mumbled sincerely, while blinking away the moisture collecting in her lower eyelids. She appreciated that Ino had learned to stop planting false hope in her mind, like he'll be back, or, I bet he's thinking about you too, or even, one day you'll get your closure. No, she learned to stop saying those things ages ago. Because she realized they weren't true.

"Now, why don't you come back out there any have another drink?" Ino offered with a small smile.

Sakura returned it but shook her head. "I think I'd better go home and sleep, actually. I'm probably just over-tired. And my rotation starts at 5:30 tomorrow morning."

Unsurprisingly, Sakura spent some time tossing and turning in the sheets of her lonely, bachelor apartment that night.

She glared at the opposite wall of her bedroom (which was an absolute mess because God knows when she last had a chance to clean it) and listened to the sound of raindrops beating against her window pane, hoping they might eventually coax her to sleep.

On most days, Sakura handled her feelings just fine. She lost herself in her daily routines, performing advanced medical procedures like they were nobody's business, sitting in on important meetings, developing antidotes for poisons and illnesses, working abroad and giving health policy advice to neighbouring nations…

Her job was cool and it was rewarding.

But on nights like tonight, and as much as she felt selfish for thinking it, it wasn't enough.

And seeing all of her friends mature and advance in their lives in other ways – by finding love, settling down, and finding enjoyment and peace on a personal level – was a stark reminder of precisely what she knew was missing from hers (though she hated to admit it).

Sakura hugged her pillow more tightly and shut her eyes. She exhaled slowly and tried to calm herself down. Whatever, she thought. None of it changes anything. I still need to be at work bright and early tomorrow. Then I can just forget about –

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Her eyes fluttered open and then narrowed. Stupid storm, she thought, in reference to the tree branch (or whatever it was) that was hitting her window.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

"Hm?" Sakura audibly grunted while propping herself up on her forearms and brushing her matted hair away from her face. The sound was oddly rhythmic. Too rhythmic for a storm.

She stopped dead and her breath caught in her throat. There was something perched on her window sill – a dark, shadowy mass with large, yellow eyes gleaming in the moonlight.

An animal? Sakura thought while she sprang up to a crouch and channeled a threatening pulse of chakra down her arms. In these parts, it was highly likely that any animal she encountered belonged to a ninja to act at his or her bidding.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

A beak. She caught a glimpse of a beak pecking against the glass. It was a massive bird, perhaps a falcon, or a…

Wait. It can't be!

Without wasting another second, Sakura leaped over to her window, flicked open the locks and thrust it open. She was sprayed with water droplets carried by the cold breeze and by the humongous, brown hawk as it dipped its head and stepped inside. Water dripped all over her pyjamas and bedsheets, but she couldn't care less as the bird carefully gripped onto her extended arm with its taloned claws.

Sakura's heart hammered in her chest as she reached for the note fastened to the hawk's leg. She proceeded to unseal it from its protective coverings with her free hand and unfolded it with the help of her teeth. Then she saw the black, blotchy letters and a familiar jagged handwriting.

I'll be at Pass Tower tomorrow at sunset.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed the first chapter! This will be a relatively short, high-on-feels and low-on-plot story. Looking forward to your feedback. :) And yes, Pass Tower is the one from Naruto Gaiden where Sasuke first meets Sarada.