Hey! Long time no see right? Quarantining has been rough but without having to commute to work, it's given me an opportunity to knock out some writing! I don't want to leave a long author's note at the end because I know it can sometimes make the chapter seem longer than it is which always used to disappoint me when I read a story. So feel free to skip this note, read the chapter, and scroll back up to read when you're done. You won't be missing anything related to the chapter. Enjoy!

A/N: I really have a lot of thoughts about the writing process that I guess I should compile and save for a final author's note at the very end but I'd like to touch on a little bit now. For instance, this August will mark 10 whole years since I've started this story which is crazy to fathom (and also shameful because with more focus and perhaps discipline, I should've finished in a year). But I'm in a way glad that I've taken my time in writing this story. One reason being that I was 16 years old when I started OLAS and I had never actually been in a relationship so I was very much writing purely from imagination and observation. But growing up and experiencing things has broadened my perspective which I think has in turn deepened the writing.

Conversely, the downside to taking forever to write has made me aware of some themes/topics/characterizations that maybe I would have approached differently had I started OLAS at my current age. I've been able to reshape some of the later chapters a bit but I do want to remain true to the original story that my 16 year old self created and conceptualized (especially when I look back on all the work I did drafting sections and outlines. It would feel kind of disrespectful to retool everything). So it's an interesting spot I find myself in: trying to write to fidelity of the original plot while also infusing some new perspectives into the piece.

I'll save the rest of my reflections for later chapters. No need to regurgitate all my thoughts onto the page at once. For those who are still reading today in 2020, thank you, honestly. With my pace, I'm grateful that I'm not just publishing into the void and there are people still willing to read. And as always, I want to renew the promise that I will finish this story—somehow, someway. At 128 pages (landscape orientation) and 10 years in, this is the longest committed relationship I've had to any piece of writing and I intend to see it through. If there is ever a point where I truly feel like I can't finish, I'll at least publish the outlines of the remaining chapters which have all the major plot points and bare bones dialogue. They're missing some meat—mostly transitions and stylistic things that make a chapter nice to read—but they'll at least provide an ending. I'll let you all know if it ever comes to that.

Anyway, tell me what you thought and hope to talk to you all soon!

Chapter 15

"Okay let's do one more check against the list."

Hiroshi grabbed Sakura's hands before they could unfold the checklist that she had curated once more. It was thorough and long and had been opened and re-folded enough times for the edges to begin to rip along the creases. "Sakura, I am absolutely positive I have everything." His confining grip softened and he laced his fingers with hers. He smiled encouragingly but she looked away, nearly dejected.

It surprised Sakura just how much the idea of being apart from Hiroshi affected her. His previous missions had tended to be short, usually something within the Land of Fire that would take two weeks maximum from beginning to end. But this time, he was assigned to accompany a group to the Land of Waves while they provided support to a town that had nearly been destroyed—a mission that would last at least a month. In the grand scheme of things, Sakura recognized that a month wasn't forever and she knew she was being unreasonable. Especially because Hiroshi's assignments were rather infrequent, allowing him to spend most of his time with her which was a luxury that the partners of many other shinobi did not have. All things considered, she had no reason to be upset. But the sulking came, all the same.

"Don't look so sad baby, you're breaking my heart." Hiroshi cradled her face, coaxing it back toward his direction.

She looked up at him briefly, not long enough for the tenderness in his gray eyes to comfort her. She wanted to stew in the sadness of parting. "It's just..." she sighed. "I'm not looking forward to not seeing you for that long. I'm not used to it."

Hiroshi smiled playfully and nudged her face upwards. "Oh I see. You're afraid of what will happen when you go into Hiroshi-withdrawal and can't get your fix."

Despite her commitment to pouting, Sakura laughed and before she could move her hands to shove him, Hiroshi drew her close, enveloping her in an embrace.

"I'm as sad as you are about this distance,'' he mumbled into her hair. "But don't even think too much about it. You'll be busy with the hospital and then you'll go on your mission and before you know it, I'll be right back here. And all the while, I'll be counting down the days until I can see your smile again."

Sakura breathed deeply as she took in the moment—his arms around her, the scent of his skin, the rise and fall of his chest. Being in his arms was a comfort she had grown to cherish. And she wouldn't feel this comfort again for a month. A whole month. She stifled a groan and tightened her grip.

While the sun and the villagers prepared for the evening, pulling away from the village center and retreating to their homes for the night, while parents tugged their petulant children behind them towards warm baths and their beds, while shopkeepers bolted their doors and tavern owners propped theirs open, Sasuke sat with his thoughts. It was an off-week, the "obligatory seven-day-minimum recovery period" stipulation Tsunade had introduced when he came off leave. Part of that recovery entailed curtailing his preferred training schedule, immensely. Before his forced leave, he was spending ten, sometimes twelve hours a day building muscle, refining his chakra control, reworking jutsus he had recently copied from others so that he could have them in his arsenal. Now he was allowed four hours a day, maximum. Four.

Without the respite of intensive training, he found himself almost anxious at night, wondering which inner turmoils may rouse from their idleness when he wasn't exhausted enough to fall asleep immediately. On those nights, dreading the silence in his apartment, Sasuke sat on the balcony in the chilled darkness and focused on the night sounds and his conscious thoughts in order to keep the unconscious ones in dormancy.

So he thought of the combinations he had practiced during training or the techniques he wanted to continue to develop. He thought of his tasks for the next day, the few groceries he would buy and the very few errands he would run. He thought of any expenses that needed to be paid, such as rent or a payment to the contractors still working on his house. He thought of his family sometimes, when the tenants across the street had their curtains split just enough for him to catch glimpses of the woman smoothing down her child's hair or coaxing him to finish his dinner. Sometimes he imagined that the dark silhouette belonged to his mother and she was tending to their home as if nothing had ever happened at all. He thought of his father too, on the rare occasion that a police officer passed by as he made his patrol rounds. Sometimes he thought of the passing of time, how his parents had been dead longer than he had known them alive. He tried to visualize how they would look and behave, what they would be doing had they lived. But he struggled to envision them in this way, as adult individuals outside of the lens of his childhood. Because what really had he known of them at seven years old? Not as parents, but as individuals? Their opinions, their thoughts, their fears? So it felt impossible to imagine how they would have changed as they aged. He wondered how his mother would have handled his adolescence when he would have gradually pulled away or how his father would have fared once his son found a voice to challenge him back.

He did not imagine Itachi. Not yet.

He thought of what he observed that day, small nuances that he never cared to notice before when he didn't have time to fill. New building renovations and construction, the arguments in the market, how small the academy students who had run past him had seemed. He thought of the woman quietly crying in the hospital lobby and what news she may have received. He thought of the old man pushing his goods cart through the village square. Their paths crossed each morning. He thought of the conversations he had that day, even the insignificant drivel from the likes of Naruto. That day, he had spoken with four other people: the receptionist who asked him his name and to sign in, the triage nurse who checked his vitals and asked about his sleep patterns, Kakashi, surprisingly, who had been walking past the training field as Sasuke exited, and Hiroshi.

Sasuke never gave off the impression that he was one for small talk. In fact, he was positive that he exuded an air of avoidance. Given this, he had thought Hiroshi had gleaned from their brief interactions and Sakura's anecdotes that there was never a time when Sasuke would want to "chat". Yet, there he had been at approximately 3:15 on the roof of the administration building, looking over the village rooftops because Hiroshi had asked if he wanted to "chat" and Sasukes's noncommittal grunt used in place of an abrupt "no'' was interpreted as confirmation.

They had been standing there for what Sasuke estimated was five minutes. Enough time for him to scan the village a few times and begin studying the people moving below. In that time, Hiroshi had taken a breath as if preparing to say something three times and oscillated between shoving his hands in his pockets and removing them abruptly. Sasuke waited, only slightly curious to know the content of this "chat" and finding more amusement in idly tracking the movements of random passersby. On Hiroshi's fourth speaking attempt, a sentence was finally formed.

"I guess I had a better idea of what to say when I was going over this in my head." He laughed—nervously it seemed, and scratched his neck. "I know you're not one for talking so I'll keep this as short as possible. Basically, I thought that it would be important that we talk since you'll be around." He paused, perhaps waiting for some response or acknowledgment that his words were heard. Sasuke continued to watch him in silence, which he imagined was enough to convey that Hiroshi should continue his "chat" without expecting affirmations between sentences.

"I know that you, Naruto, and Sakura go way back to academy days. She's super close with Naruto and it's something I just had to get used to. She can't cut him out of her life and I would never ask her to. And I figure her relationship with you, past and present, is the same situation. You've been a part of her life since she was 12 and she can't simply cut you out the same way she can't cut Naruto out. And I accept that." His small nod seemed self-assuring. "I'm a pretty open guy but I'll admit, deep down, I found the idea of a friendship between you two sort-of nerve-wracking at first. But I'm getting used to the idea. If she's happy and there's no harm being done, I don't have a problem with it."

Sasuke had studied Hiroshi's face with the same nonchalance he used in his general observations. The casual air he was attempting to maintain was very much crafted and fragile; Sasuke could see the wavering resolve in the smirk he wore—too stiff to be natural. But it seemed Hiroshi was determined to keep things light and under Sasuke's blank stare, he widened his smile encouragingly.

Sasuke turned his gaze back to the moving mass of people below. "You are giving me permission to be friends with Sakura."

The composure in Hiroshi's voice was breaking down into a mild panic. "No! Not really...I mean, she doesn't need—what I'm saying is...permission is a strong—" he exhaled, clearly disappointed in how this conversation compared to the scene he had imagined. "I just want Sakura to be happy and I know that her friendship with you and Naruto is a big part of that happiness. I would never want it to seem like, well, I don't ever want to be that guy who can't handle his partner's friendships. I mean, she and Naruto are like two peas in a pod but there's never a reason to worry—not to say either of them would give me a reason to worry but in a different circumstance and situation—" he shook his head. "I'm starting to ramble. Basically, what I'm trying to say is, I know that you and Sakura have a lot of history but above all that, you're friends and I have no problem with that."

It had been an odd exchange that seemed to be pertinent to Hiroshi. It appeared that despite his easy going demeanor, there was a part of Hiroshi that was worried. Or maybe precautious. Sasuke amusedly wondered if the talk was supposed to be a warning.

One which would have been unnecessary. He thought of his romantic relationship with Sakura almost in the same way he thought of his deceased parents: something that once existed and he remembered through the lens of the past. He remembered he had loved her at a time and he remembered how he had hurt her. Memories were just that: memories, and the existence of those memories wouldn't resurrect the relationship any more than the memories of his parents could bring them back to life. But this was nothing to explain to Hiroshi, or anyone really. So he had nodded once and respectfully, but bluntly, announced his departure.

Sasuke leaned back in his chair, watching the stars beginning to appear in the multi-colored sky as he continued to listen to the sounds of the village quieting. He closed his eyes, reveling in the early summer air—warm, not oppressive, now that the sun wasn't glaring overhead. He could hear the shutters snapping shut over windows. He could hear a neighbor's broom sweep the last bit of the day's dust over the doorway. He could hear the people walk past at varying paces—slow and measured, quick and hurried, leisurely, tired, and—

He opened his eyes as one of the paces stopped below his balcony. Sakura waved from below.

"Hey Sasuke! How's your evening so far?" She wore a cream colored dress, her hair loose over her shoulders. She must have been off that day.

Sasuke shrugged before uttering, "Fine", lest Sakura started lecturing him about using his words again. "You're not coming from work."

"Yeah, I took a half day today. Tsunade is forcing me to use my vacation time so I'm using a few hours here and there to appease her. I'm going to grab a late dinner with Naruto. I'm heading over to his apartment now. Wanna come?"

Sasuke nodded once, swiftly swapped his house slippers for shoes, and jumped down from the balcony. "You're not eating with Hiroshi?" he asked as they started walking.

She pouted slightly before responding. "No, he's leaving tomorrow for an extended mission so I'm trying to let him rest and prepare without having to deal with my moping." She brushed at a newfound stain on her bodice mumbling, "I swear I can never wear normal clothes without getting a stain somewhere."

He looked forward, reviewing Hiroshi's words from earlier in the day with this new knowledge of a lengthy deployment. Perhaps the "chat" had in fact been a warning.

Sakura sighed, retrieving his attention once more."Oh well. Maybe I'm meant to live in a uniform." She looked over at Sasuke whose face quickly shifted from contemplative to neutral. Before she could ask what was on his mind, he asked her how she spent her time off and as she described the activities of her day, her curiosity behind his thoughts was forgotten and his speculations about Hiroshi's motives became another mundane detail of the day—worth a moment of ponder but usually not more.

Walking with Sakura always followed a similar pattern. Mostly she was focused, following whatever path she had laid out in her mind. But at some moments, she would wander, distracted by something along the way. And when she flitted to a storefront or traversed a field to study a new blossom or turned right to take a longer loop because she wanted to "see something really quick,'' he had no choice but to follow and patiently wait for her focus to return to the original route. This night, after realizing that the moon was full, she decided to take the long route in order to stop by the small river, explaining that the reflection of the night sky in the water had always calmed her but she never had the energy to make the trek there after work. And with this extra time, she decided that she would experience it now and try to remember the feeling for later. Sasuke nodded and followed her to the small wooden bridge that had at one point been the central meeting point for Team 7. Walking across the boards which now creaked under his step made him feel aged, somehow. They stopped in the center, where they always had stood waiting for Naruto, then Kakashi, and peered out across the shimmering water, moonlight glinting off the blue-black river. He listened to the sounds in this pocket of the night—hidden creatures weaving together a discordant rhythm against the occasional rustle of the leaves and the soft swirls of water.

Sakura ran her fingers over the wooden banister, it's surface worn smooth by the years."I can't believe June's almost over. Time passes so quickly! It seems like I was just celebrating my birthday in March."

Sasuke considered the passing of time as he watched insects land lightly on the nearly still surface, sending minuscule ripples cascading around them. He had spent all these months measuring time by missions and sleep. Unless idle, hours meant little to him now.

"Speaking of birthdays..." Sakura began with a hint of mirth in her tone. "You'll be turning 25 so—"

"No. Party." With Sakura, he found it was better to anticipate and be proactive. Had he allowed her to continue her statement, she would have spent several minutes building up to the actual plan, gradually introducing new elements until a "small private dinner" became an evening soiree for 30. As per usual.

Years before, during one of Sakura's visits while he served his house arrest sentence, Sasuke had offhandedly revealed that he hadn't celebrated a birthday since the death of his parents. He hadn't known back then what her quiet pause had meant—that she had silently resolved herself to become the keeper of his future birthday celebrations. His sentence had ended in August and his first steps of freedom had led him to a surprise "belated birthday bash" that could have been mistaken for a small festival. He learned later that Sakura's commitment to this celebratory cause wasn't a one-time occurrence: it was in fact, indefinite. So despite his resistance, she had managed to curate some form of celebration for three birthdays that followed, partly because she felt that he needed to make up for the numerous birthdays he had spent alone and partly because she loved social gatherings and would not abandon an opportunity to host one.

"Sasuke!" she turned to him, her voice somewhere between whining and berating. "You didn't even let me finish my suggestion."

"Because I know your plan: suggest a 'get-together' that somehow—" he rolled his eyes remembering her feigned innocence at the pattern, "turns into some big thing. You've done it three times now and you know I don't enjoy parties."

"You hardly like talking either but you do that too, with some encouragement," she reasoned. "And that's all you need: a little encouragement."

"Isn't it important for a birthday celebration to reflect what the birthday person likes to do?"

Now Sakura rolled her eyes. "Yeah, because all day training sounds like a really superb celebration, Sasuke. Don't you want to do something so you can see all your friends?"

"I saw them at the last dinner you hosted. I think that's sufficient enough."

"That was nearly a month ago!" Exasperated, Sakura threw her hands up. "Honestly, I don't even know why I tried to ask for your input. I should just throw you a party and force it on you."

Sasuke smirked at her frustration. "I wouldn't show up. Your surprise 'bash' only succeeded because my being on house arrest allowed you to plan and coordinate freely without the threat of detection."

As her pout deepened, so did her resolve. "At least let me host a small dinner: just you, me, and Naruto, maybe Kakashi if I can find him. And a few other friends. Maybe."

"By small dinner you mean small party, so, no."

"You are so difficult!" Abruptly pushing away from the banister, Sakura resumed the walk towards Naruto's apartment with Sasuke easily matching her stomps as they descended from the bridge onto the path. It took a few minutes but once her frustration was spent, Sakura calmly resumed her pleas. "Okay, how about a super casual lunch at your favorite restaurant? We'll make a reservation; that way, there will be a set number of seats and therefore, a limited number of guests so I won't be able to invite any more people than we agree upon."

"A lunch party is still a party, Sakura. The small picnic you did when I turned 22 ended up being a garden party. I won't fall for that again." He smiled, both at her stubborn determination and the low grumbling now accompanying her frown. Admittedly, he was impressed by her relentlessness; Sakura's determination had always been one of her strong suits. "I assure you, it will be fine for my birthday to pass without consequence. Why not take a year off from your sacred birthday vow?" He expected his words to incite a sharp response, as teasing Sakura often did, but surprisingly, she was quiet and when he turned to her, she avoided his eyes.

"Well, technically I did take a year off..." her voice trailed, quieting. "So I thought… maybe we could do something a little bigger since we missed last year..."

He said nothing, feeling familiar traces of guilt slowly spill into the silence. After all, there was a reason they hadn't celebrated together the year before. Only two weeks prior, he had watched the last swell of flames consume their home. He had spent his birthday looking for her, seeped in regret and ignorance, stupidly believing Sakura's return would bring resolution and the relationship would resume. How arrogant he had been, making arrangements and plans as if Sakura's response to the discovery of his infidelity was an inconvenience that could be overcome . He could remember how clearly his thoughts had rung with certainty; to him, the only unknown was the time of her return. When Sakura returns, I'll explain the circumstances and assure her that I'm no longer involved with Misaki. When Sakura returns, we'll visit the new apartment building near the hospital to inquire about temporary rentals. When Sakura returns, we'll meet with the Hokage to dispute her suspension and ensure that it doesn't affect her record. When Sakura returns, when Sakura returns, when Sakura returns...

He shrugged, hoping nonchalance would redirect the conversation, move it away from the dangerous territory it had veered towards. "It's fine. You should save the planning energy for Naruto's birthday."

Sakura nodded silently and despite his effort to draw her attention away from it, he knew her thoughts were there, in the summer of the year past.

"It's hard to believe it's almost been a year. Time really does pass quickly, huh?" she finally said, her earlier words taking on a note of reflection.

He said nothing.

"Things are so different now. In a good way of course. There's much more happiness."

Sasuke could feel her eyes on him, waiting for a response, an acknowledgement. But he kept his gaze focused on the ground, noticing how their pace had slowed significantly. Or at least, seemed to slow. Perhaps the urge to reach Naruto's apartment and thus the end of the conversation was altering his perception.

"You know, I don't think I realized back then how focused I was on the past. I was always reminiscing about the way things had been in the beginning and I guess staying there so much made me think one day things would just somehow go back to that." She spoke as if the thought was completely insignificant; it had no power to bother her. He met her eyes then, seeing the effect of a year of healing color her eyes, giving them a wisdom and introspective view that hadn't been there before. "I think I've become more present. And I guess forward thinking too. A year ago, I couldn't even imagine how different life could be." She shook her head with a small, disbelieving smile. "What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Hasn't anything changed for you?"

How could he respond to her reflection? Although the past year had meant immense growth and maturing and joy for her, it had meant suppression and avoidance for him. Happiness for him was merely a concept now, an immaterial notion that came along with his memories. He couldn't hope to have it now. Even in the wake of the fire, in the aftermath of the destructive discovery, there had been hope—hope that the happiness that he and Sakura had crafted together would return. But he had been naive to harbor it for those weeks while Sakura was away; he had been foolish to nurture it with plans and assurances and promises of "when Sakura returns". That day, when Sakura had said goodbye and finally cut herself free of him, he had felt that final tendril of hope disintegrate as their relationship, the only potential source of happiness, extinguished before him. There were moments of contentment in friendship but they were just that: moments. So what had changed for him? He was not happy. He would probably never be happy. And that is how life would remain.

The stinging truth of that fact gripped his heart painfully and he shrugged in response, deciding he wouldn't give her more than that. It was childlike, petulant even, but the feelings within him that her words tried to uncover were roiling uncomfortably in his stomach and chest, churning together into an indiscernible mass of discomfort. But he could pick out one emotion from them all: the irrational, defensive anger that had always come naturally to him. He clung to it and could feel the way the irritation stiffened him, the way it sat behind his lips, ready to coat his words.

"Did you ever...have you talked to Misaki?"

Incredulous, he glared in her direction, finding her face completely neutral. "Why would I?"

"I don't know...for resolution's sake?" She waited for a response, allowing the tension to thicken. "Maybe you—"

"There's nothing to resolve." He spat the words forcefully, feeling the irritation surge through him. "She was a mistake."

"She's still a person, who probably feels rotten that she's been reduced to a mistake." There were the beginnings of frustration in Sakura's voice which instinctively increased his defensiveness. He could feel the heat of it. "Her emotions exist too and hold value, even if—"

"I'm not talking about this." His tone was acidic and cold but he could hardly discern how he sounded over the blood pounding in his ears. The agitation was overwhelming.

Sakura nodded and obliged, saying nothing more while they quietly completed the final minutes of the walk. In the silence, Sasuke could hear his words repeated back to him, rude and brusque, as if he was shoving her away with his tone. Fighting against the anger, remorse began to cool his temper and as they approached their destination, he struggled to find words to serve as both an apology and an explanation, to fully describe the turmoil he was experiencing.

At the door to Naruto's apartment building, she turned to him, surprisingly apologetic. "Sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I've been thinking it would be good to get to a point where we could talk about what happened. I may have jumped the gun a bit." Her eyes were sympathetic and her small, sheepish smile snuffed the last of his anger. "But I think we'll get there. No rush." She smiled again, with a sincerity that brought forth shame in a heavy wave. How could he be so incapable of something as simple as a conversation, so much so, that she was the one extending understanding to him—she who had more reason to shy away from the topic?

Sakura squeezed his arm encouragingly before she tucked her hair behind her ear and opened the door to Naruto's apartment complex. Standing there at the foot of the stairs, mired in emotions, Sasuke's eyes followed her as she climbed each step, watching her ascend.

Hopefully the writing is still up to par; it's been a while and I'm a little out of practice! This was more of a transition chapter (sort of) so it's setting things up for I guess what could be called the next arc (Do I have arcs? Who knows.) Also, I know it was another Sasuke POV heavy chapter but the next one will be more evenly split. Let me know what you thought!