knit them together

by the amazing (knit-tastic) deceiving fallen angel who totally gives out her own hand-knit scarves of beauty because she is awesome
including giving them to Rachel who is the true amazing one and who had her birthday on Thursday
I love you, Rach, this is for you!!

天

A young Sasuke Uchiha sat moodily in front of the window in the Uchiha living room, at the window closest to the front door and not blocked by an illuminated Christmas tree. Thin, black eyebrows crinkled unhappily over troubled, onyx eyes, and the young boy's pale lips were pursed. The too-long sleeves of a cobalt blue, cable-knit sweater of his brother's that he wore over his long-sleeved, blue and white pin-striped pajamas threatened to engulf his childish hands, which were absently pushing a long, narrow box with a bow around on the polished mahaghany window sill. His dark eyes scowled at the soft, snowy scene on the other side of the glass.

The chime of the clock gently announcing nine o' clock to itself on the mantle was heard, and a crackly rustling as someone laid aside the newspaper. Sasuke heard the muted thud of stockinged feet on the wooden floor and the darkening of a shadow behind him censoring the fire's flickering, warm light, but ignored them.

"Sasuke," his mother spoke quietly in that 'tut-tut' voice, reaching a red clad arm out and resting it on her son's shoulder; he slouched further over the box and the windowsill, sullenness brewing about him like a dark storm.

"I'm sorry; I know how much you wanted to give your little friend that present," she paused, pursing her lips as she felt his shoulder tense beneath her hand," But just forget about it. Christmas is tomorrow - be happy. You can just give it to her when school started again in January. Just don't get so upset about it."

Sasuke whipped around, scowling at his mother, "I am not upset! I don't even care!" he snapped, ears turning red. With a low growl he jumped to his white-sock clad feet, gathered the present with its bow up in his small arms, and stalked out of the living room, past the cozy fire with stockings hanging over it, the intricate wreaths and garland the banister along the stairs was hung with, and his mother and her bright red Christmas sweater that happened to remind him a little too much another certain girl and her red sweater. Barely stopping to step into shoes, he was out the back door in the kitchen and into the cold, leaving an amused looking older brother with the grouchy statement that he was going for a walk.

The young Uchiha sloshed through the snow covered streets of his neighbourhood, unconsciously clutching the box in small, pale hands. The bright rainbow colour range of Christmas lights bounced off the pure whiteness of the fallen snow, and if he weren't so mad, he might've been able to appreciate such a classic beauty of a Christmas Eve night. Instead he pressed on through the cold and struggled with his thoughts as they betrayed him; most of the Christmas lights were red and green, and all he could remember were bright emerald green eyes, staring into his with unmasked adoration as he stared back, feeling pleasurably smug when the colour red illuminated her pale cheeks in response to him and only him, as he zipped up the deep red parka, fingers accidentally brushing a warm, pale neck, and he blushed too...

Shaking his head and clearing his thoughts of the memory, one he'd pulled up many, many times since it had happened, mind you, the raven haired boy growled under his breath and kicked a lump of snow harshly out of the way with the toe of his child-sized boots.

"Sakura Haruno is too annoying," he muttered bitterly to himself, his breath visible in the dark, below-freezing air. She was always doing that, taking over his thoughts suddenly and making his legs feel a bit like his mom's Christmas jello. Of course, he knew it was his fault because it was his head, but it was really actually her fault, for being the prettiest girl he'd ever seen - prettier even than his mom, not that he was going to tell either of them he thought that though.

Sakura was even more annoying because of what had happened on the last three days of school before winter break and the new term.

It was the last few days, so of course their teacher hadn't made them do any real assignments: in music they sang carols; for language arts, letters to Santa Clause were composed; in history they learned about how different countries had different Christmases; and in math they counted the red ornaments on the classroom fir tree, then the gold, then the silver, then the blue.

It happened on Wednesday. As usual, he'd climbed up into the old oak tree during recess to catch some glimpses of her. As usual, she sat on the playground swings - on the yellow one, she always sat on the yellow one - her thin legs neatly crossed at the feet as her hands flashed back and forth. Whenever Sakura had free time, she was knitting. She had a single pair of size 7 wooden needles, but the things she could make with those two sticks, some yarn, and her (wonderful, wonderful) hands were just breathtaking. She was so good she didn't even have to look when she knit. She knit scarves and socks and read in language arts at the same time. She would talk to you, her (beautiful) green eyes on your face, while her hands danced in her lap and she created something wonderful. Anyone would know who Sakura's friends were - all they had to do was see which kids wore the lovely knit caps over their heads, the bright, colourful striped scarves, the cheery cable sweaters and soft mittens.

Sakura was an artist.

Sasuke worshipped her.

He'd known her since when they were little, living in the same neighbourhood, their parents best friends, back when those little porcelain hands had never touched a knitting needle. They'd been friends ever since.

Everyone loved Sakura. Not only was she talented, smart, and pretty, but she was nice. She gave away her creations to whoever wanted them, free. Sasuke was also painfully aware of the fact that this had attracted more than just him as her admirer.

The only one who didn't like Sakura was Karin, a mean, snotty girl with red hair and bulbous glasses who was prone to temper tantrums and jealousy as red hot as her hair.

So it was on Wednesday that Sasuke Uchiha, from his clandestine perch atop a snowy branch of the elm tree, watched as Sakura knitted away on a cream coloured scarf, and Karin snuck up behind her, and pushed her off of the yellow swing and into a wet snow drift. The be-speckled girl sneered at her enemy lying face down in the snow, then bent down and scooped up the knitting, ripped the stitches off the needles and let them unravel in the snow, then threw the wooden needles into the snow and stomped of them. Sasuke could hear the snap as he furiously tried to scrambled off of the tree and over to the swings to beat Karin's ugly face in, because surely 'no hitting girls' didn't apply to witches.

Ino, Sakura's best friend, however, beat him to her, running on scene like a bolt of platinum coloured lightning, and without hesitation rammed her small fist straight through Karin's thick glasses.

By the time Sasuke had fallen out of the tree in his haste and run over to the swings, the teachers had dragged Ino and Karin away to most likely assign detentions and tend to Karin's broken nose and Ino's bloody hand. Sakura stood alone, looking as crushed as the needles as she stared at the ground and tried to subtly hold back the years melting her emerald eyes. He'd felt his heart stick itself in his throat in a way that didn't let him breathe, and he'd stepped closer.

She'd looked up at him sadly from under her long, black eyelashes, and fallen onto him, wrapping her thin arms innocently around his waist. He remembered how her touch had felt like when Itachi would slide around on the carpet in his socks, then zap him with the static to be mean, only this was through his whole body, and it didn't exactly hurt. He'd unthinkingly returned the embrace, gently squeezing her and smelling her lavender scented, pin-straight pink hair. A minute later she'd realised what she'd just done, jumped away, her face bright red and tear-streaked, and she'd taken off running into the classroom.

He watched her go, feeling wistful as the wind blew her lingering warmth from his small arms. Then he bent down and pocketed the broken knitting needles.

天

Sasuke wandered off the sidewalk now, and trudged through the snow that blanketed the neighbourhood park and playground. The park looked no less splendid; it was surrounded by the back-glow of the houses that had cloaked themselves with a myriad of holiday lights, and had been decorated itself with twinkling lights wrapped around the trunk of every tree and the largest towering evergreens had been decked out in lights and glass bulbs of every colour.

Still, the young boy was too moody to care. He stared down at the wrapped box still clutched in his hand, and unconsciously made a fist around it. His older brother had taken him to the store to buy it, and the fact that Itachi was actually doing something nice for his brother was a miracle in itself. Of course, to get that miracle to occur, he'd promised to be doing a lot of extra dishes, alone, for a very long time, if you know what I mean. He'd struggled with the wrapping paper for a good hour or tow, until his mother happened to discover him buried in a huge mess of crumpled blue and silver paper and bits of tape and ribbon. So like any good mother, she'd offered to save him from his tissue paper nightmare and wrap the box for him; he did, however, insist on putting the shimmery, silver bow on top by himself. Then he'd spent countless hour upon hour upon hour locked in the bathroom, practicing how he would give the box to Sakura just right, with the help of the bathroom mirror.

All that, and finally, Friday morning he'd run to school, just happened to put on his nicest shirt, and made sure the box was carefully zipped up in the pocket of his backpack where he kept his pencil bag. He'd run inside with butterflies in his stomach, sat down, and waited. And waited. The bell signalling the start of school rang, and the bell that dismissed them to go home rang, and Sakura hadn't come. When Sasuke asked the teacher, she said Sakura's parents had called to excuse her, because the family had to get an early start on their vacation, or they wouldn't be on time. Therefore, Sakura wouldn't be there on Friday.

It felt like the butterflies in his stomach had started eating each other.

The kicker was, he could have given it to her on Thursday, had he not been so nervous.

Now, he was so frustrated he felt like throwing the little package into the river, and probably would have indeed started running in that direction, had his eyes not noticed what looked like the silhouette of a person, pitch black again the prism of Christmas lights of the nearest tree. Admittedly curious, he returned the box to the inside of his over-sized sweater, and stepped towards the tree.

It was a girl. She was probably about his age, shorter than he was and thin. She was wearing, surprisingly, only a white, old-fashioned nightgown with long sleeves that billowed out and hugged her wrists. On her feet were thin, white flats like ballet slippers. The girl's back was to him, so all he could see was the cascade of soft curls falling down her back with the top of a headband visible. The Christmas lights were messing with the colour of everything, because her hair looked pink, but he knew that there was only girl with pink hair, and he had no hope of seeing her for weeks.

Still, he felt rather worried for this apparently insane creature, so thin and innocent and simply standing there without a jacket or anything..

"Um, hi," he said quietly, "Are you... okay?"

The girl nearly jumped a foot in the air and whipped around, her curls hitting her shoulder, and he was attacked by clear green eyes. Familiar clear green eyes.

"Sakura?" he stuttered her name, in absolute disbelief. This isn't possible. Sakura's on holiday - this is a ghost or something. Yes, she almost looks like a ghost. Wait, wouldn't that mean that she's dead?!

"Sasuke?" she questioned, squinting in the darkness, trying to make out the wide onyx eyes staring at her from his pale, shocked face. His cheeks went red from her scrutiny.

"It's me," he said, stepping closer to the brightness of the tree's twinkle lights, closer to her, "Um, Sakura? What are you doing here?"

"Well, you know I live like only one street away, silly!" she laughed, her eyes twinkling with the multicoloured lights.

"I mean what are you doing here, in town. They said you were gone for the break," he specified.

"Oh. Well, we were only going to be gone for a week, then come back before Christmas," she shrugged nonchalantly, "My grandpa was sick anyway, so we didn't stay long."

Sasuke nodded understandingly, but raised an eyebrow, "Um, why are you just standing in the snow without a jacket?"

Sakura gave a start and looked down, a bemused look forming on her face, "Oh, I guess I forgot," she shrugged, like it didn't matter that it was 20 degrees out either, "I just really felt like looking out at the stars and the lights. Aren't they nice?"

He shook his head at her irresponsibility, and began taking off his sweater.

"No, no, no, no, no," she protested quickly, once she saw what he was doing, "I'm just fine. It's not even cold."

"Sakura, you're shivering," he rolled his eyes, but that didn't mask the concern in their dark depths as he watched her thin shoulders shake beneath the even thinner, white fabric of her nightgown.

"Well, you can't freeze either! It's my fault for not remembering a jacket!" she retorted.

He glared at her, then sighed and grabbed her wrist, gently pulling her over to the swings. He sat her down on the (yellow) swing, then stood behind her, forced himself to squish the butterflies in his stomach, and wrapped his arms around her tightly.

"S-sasuke?" Sakura asked quietly, her voice a little shaky and her face bright red, "W-what are you doing?"

"Keeping us both warm," he replied, proud to hear that his voice sounded blase and confident, not nervous or shaky or stuttery like he felt.

He stood and she sat there for the longest time, before she turned around and quickly pressed her lips against his cheek. Sasuke practically fell over.

"W-what was t-that for?" he stuttered and gulped, his face flushing.

"Always helping me," Sakura replied shyly. There was a bit of a silence as Sasuke took in her words, then he hesitated, and bent down and kissed her back.

"W-what was that for?" it was her turn to gasp.

Second chances. He smiled, feeling the long box with the bow beneath his sweater.

天

The next morning, Sakura woke up in her own bed with no idea of how she'd gotten there. She didn't remember anything but a very strange, albeit good dream that she'd had. The pink haired little girl rolled over in bed and rubbed at her sleepy green eyes with small hands, then froze as she felt something scratchy against her face. She looked down, and, impossibly, she was wearing a dark blue sweater over her nightgown. Stunned, she simply sat there, not even remembering that it was Christmas and she was supposed to be running down the stairs and attacking the tree and fireplace like a normal kid, instead of sitting in bed stroking a sweater.

And she felt a bump in it. Sakura reached inside the sweater, where there was a sort of pocket, and pulled out a box. It was neatly wrapped in pretty, blue paper, with a silver bow on top, and was addressed to her in vaguely familiar, childish handwriting. It was Christmas, and her name was on the tag, so she hesitantly peeled off the bow, the tape, the paper. She lifted the lid of a white box, and inside were the most beautiful two shiny, aluminum knitting needles. She admired the needles for a moment in awe, then realised a scrap of paper had fallen out of the lid. She picked it up and read:

'Dear Sakura,

These are aluminum; they won't break, okay? Hope you like them.

Love, Sasuke'

Okay, you guys, I really would have loved to publish this on Christmas Eve like the story, but here is my (beautiful and logical) reasoning on why you people reading this have to use those amazing imaginations of yours (and I know Fanfiction people have imaginations) and pretend it's Christmas Eve:

- if I did publish this on Christmas Eve, no one would even read it because hello, Christmas Eve? they would so get to it in January and I'd rather put up this wonderful lil bit o' holiday cheer early so on Christmas Eve you guys will be like 'omg it's Christmas Eve, just like that amazing story I read the other day!'

- I'm lucky to be publishing it now- my dad has banned me from my laptop while I'm home for the holidays (omg, that's like a song, isn't it?!) because I like never come home anymore, but hello, med school, importantay!! so yeah, right now he's at work and my mum is off buying him socks or whatever he gets for Christmas every year so I'm sneaking this on

-um, pretend this is a third good reason

Anywho, hope you guys like the story. Sorry if it was a little (or a lot) corny, and admittedly, that was the first time I've written about the characters as little kids, and I've really wanted to try it for awhile. Happy holidays to everyone on Fanfiction! I know this one was Christmas centric, but I hope everyone celebrating anything from Kwanzaa to Ramadan to Hanukkah and beyond have a great December and an amazing New Years! Some feedback would be awesome! Much love.