HEY! This is my first KakaSaku fanfic EVER. I'm really excited. I've shipped this pair for like… ever. Lemme know whatcha think!

Obviously, I don't own Naruto. If I did… Sasuke would not own a shirt, Lee would trim his eyebrows, and Ino would fall into a pit of acid. Just sayin'.

His eyes opened slowly, but he did not want to get up. Why?

He looked to his left. He saw the moon streaming in through the window. He looked to his right. His eyes widened and soon softened with realization. Her delicate and feminine features were relaxed as her head lay gently on his shoulder, his right arm cradling her back. Against his fingers he felt her soft, smooth porcelain skin. He just stared for a moment; he just stared at her. He felt nothing else could be done. He wouldn't, no… he couldn't ever forget the way his heart was beating.

He shifted, sliding his arm from beneath her, and he supported himself with his elbow as he brushed her short pink locks from her forehead. Her eyes fluttered, but did not open. He moved his hand beneath the sheets and put his hand on her bare stomach. He closed his eyes and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, lingering there he couldn't imagine waking up any other way than this. His heart ached as he moved out from under the sheets and his bare feet hit the cold wooden floor. The window was left open, allowing a pertinent wind to enter the room, sending chills down his body. He wished he could lay back with her, accepting her warmth. But he did not belong with her. He didn't know if it was because he was many years her elder, or if it was because he had once been her teacher, or if he believed she still harbored feelings for her former teammate. But he knew it should not be him she woke up next to.

He had given into his emotions, and though it pained him so, he could not allow himself to break again. And in doing so, he would be hurting her, and hurting her would ultimately hurt him.

He pulled his mask up to the bridge of his nose, zipped his vest, and tied his headband back against his forehead, though he did not push it down over his left eye. He used both eyes to memorize how utterly and unmistakably beautiful she looked, glowing under the moon's bright shine. And then for a brief moment he thought to himself: Would she miss me when I'm gone?

In a few moments following, the only reminder that he was ever present was the unmade left side of her bed and a small rose on her nightstand. As he walked out from her apartment, he left behind a single tear on her doormat. As he slowly closed the door and walked into the night, he felt his heart break with every step he took. There was nothing more he could do. He did not belong.