Summary: I found my voice while you were gone.
Standard disclaimer applies here
[speak.]
.
.
.
louder.
.
.
.
Today is the day I give up on Sasuke Uchiha.
Today is the day I stop trying to win his love.
Today is the day I move on.
-x-
In a perfect world, love would be flawless, untainted, and beautiful. We wouldn't have to fight for it, we wouldn't have to shed our tears, and we wouldn't have to feel the heartbreak that shatters our being.
In a perfect world, he would be mine.
But this isn't a perfect world, and it never will be.
Just like how he'll never be mine.
-x-
We met in elementary school, the three of us: Sasuke Uchiha, Naruto Uzumaki, and I, Sakura Haruno. We became friends, our parents became friends, and we grew up to be familiar with one another and we were closer with each other than anyone else in the world. They were my boys, who protected me and looked out for me.
I always felt like Naruto was more of my brother than anything else; we argued, we fought, we laughed and we had fun together. He was always there when I was sad and managed to make me smile- he was the light of my world, someone that I'd be terribly lost without.
But Sasuke… he was different. He was strong and silent, dark and brooding, and he made my heart pound against my ribcage and made my cheeks flush bright red. I was in love with him since I first met him, so long ago. He was always more mature, more focused than Naruto and I- he was ambitious and driven and smart, and all the girls loved him. He was beautiful, mysteriously handsome and jaw-dropping gorgeous. Sasuke always looked after me- he got angry if I went out on dates with guys he deemed as 'unworthy', accompanied me when I went out for midnight walks, and occasionally took me stargazing, one of my favorite things to do. It was rare seeing Sasuke as anything but soft, but if you knew him well and paid attention, his actions said everything. He remembered things and he had his own ways of showing that he cared. He was the person I'd take a bullet for, any day.
Too bad he's the one behind the trigger.
Eventually we got accepted into the same university, where we all chipped in our second year to buy a house for all of us to share- because apartment prices were ridiculous and not one of us had the money to afford it. By then we were independent, stubborn- scarcely relying on our parents for anything.
The house we found was way off campus, but I loved the house, and still do- it isn't too big, isn't too small, and we all fit nicely in it. The first two years in the house was great; we all shared our common household chores, all cooked and cleaned, and we were happy. After graduation, though, Naruto moved out to the house with his long time girlfriend (and one of my closest girl friends) Hinata Hyuuga, who just so happened to be a daughter of a millionaire.
Then, there was Sasuke and I. The first few months with Naruto gone were okay; sure, it was quiet, but I managed just fine. Sasuke had signed a famous music label and was performing almost every night with his new band, so I was often home alone. But he did come home, once in a while, to check on things and to make sure I was doing okay. He brought me my favorite foods, took me out to see my favorite movies, and for a little while it was fine. I was happy to have him home. Ecstatic, even. It was what I looked forward to all the time.
Back then, it was always the little things. Too bad they're gone now.
-x-
"Dr. Haruno, there's a patient in room 302 who is acquiring your attention," Shizune, the secretary of Konoha Hospital says. It's Friday and crazy busy, and I've been on the go all day. At the age of twenty-three, I'm the youngest doctor here- personally picked and trained by the most famous doctor of the country, Tsunade. I nod and smile and head up the stairs.
I'm constantly busy with my new schedule here. There are always people that need my attention, that need my help. Sometimes Naruto will drop by and visit me when I'm working. He's grown into a much more mature person since our university days; Hinata really changed him. He's currently working in the company of Hinata's father, and is probably going to be promoted to CEO sometime soon. I hear that they're going to get married, as well, and I'm so excited for it.
We talk for a long time when he comes and visits; after all, neither one of us has time anymore. We catch up with each other, and sometimes he'll make promises to see our old house, which he does, more than Sasuke does anymore.
A lot of the time we'll talk about Sasuke. He's now the hottest star out there, recently named the Hottest Male of the Year, with his beautiful face on every magazine cover, every poster, and he's so exclusive that even Naruto, his best friend, doesn't see much of him anymore. My heart breaks every time we talk about him, like he's a distant memory rather than someone we grew up with.
Some days when I go grocery shopping, I'd stop by the magazine shelf just to look at his face, wondering why he never bothers contacting his old friends. Technically, he still lives in the house with me, seeing that he pays for half the bills, but he's never there. And I'd feel my heart shatter when I find tabloid articles of him hooking up with random girls in the bar, supermodels in his music videos…these girls that don't know him as well as I do. And I'd be angry, so, so angry.
But I'm done with it now, starting today, I'm done with spending restless nights clinging onto this false hope that he'll be home, that he'll be there when I wake up. I'm done with waiting for this stupid boy who took my heart and left without any explanation. I'm done.
Done with dealing with this fairytale bullshit.
I make my way up the stairs and into room 302, and am greeted by the frail smile of an elderly lady. I look at her information sheet, where her name says Yukio, and I smile. I'd taken care of this sweet old lady a couple days ago, and she'd been so kind and talkative, nothing like I'd expected from a little lady like her.
"Hello," I say, "I'm Dr. Haruno. I'm not sure if you remember me from before?"
Yukio smiles- there are smile lines on her face, and her face is soft and gentle, displaying a kind elderly woman who must've laughed a lot in her younger days. "Of course I remember you, dearie," she says, gray eyes sparkling. "A pretty lady like you is hard to forget."
For some reason, my heart constricts at her words; because it sure seems easy for him to forget me, like I don't matter.
I pray that she doesn't see my professional smile falter- and to my relief, she doesn't. Instead, she continues to speak as I start with my regular checkup.
"Do you have a boyfriend? Or perhaps a husband? You can't be any older than twenty-five, I'm guessing." I shake my head no.
"Oh, no. I don't have a boyfriend," I say, and let out an airy laugh. "I don't have time for one." It's true, though; with work on my hands, I'm constantly busy. I've had the occasional drink here and there with co-workers, but nothing too serious.
Yukio looks at me with a look of surprise. "Back in my day, we all married young. I married my husband at the age of seventeen. He was a sweet man. Very kind, if not a bit quiet. Sometimes I would wonder if he got tired of my constant chattering. He never said much. He was that type of man, you know: quiet, never telling you much of what he was thinking, but incredibly intelligent. Patient." Her expression turns sad. "I miss him. Sometimes I get angry thinking about how he left me all by myself, but…but then I remember he'd given me so many precious memories to cherish."
She's quiet right after that, as if she's deep in thought. I finish her checkup quickly before leaving, promising to be back the following Monday. Usually I would stay and talk with the patient, but Yukio seems to be reminiscing about her past, and I'd rather let her be.
I shut the door quietly behind me when I leave.
-x-
Usually I ease into consciousness when I wake in the morning, but today I jerk awake as if my bed were on fire. It's unusual, since today is a Saturday, one of those rare days I can sleep in. Normally working 12-hour shifts while running on a steady four hours of sleep every night, I like to relish the little rest I ever do get. But my body feels alert, tense; like I'm ready to pounce. My hair is a mess, with strands flying here and there, out of place, and my clothes are as wrinkled as hell.
I didn't really sleep well.
I kept dreaming of Yukio last night, about her deceased husband, about Sasuke, abut Naruto. The glossy gray eyes of a woman who's suffering from loss, the beautiful black eyes of a boy who stole my heart, and the happy cerulean blue eyes of a boy who's found love…and then mine. Empty, lost, angry. Jealous. Curious. Why? All the things I hate about myself, tearing at me.
Reluctantly I get out of the comfortable warmth of my bed, and pad to the washroom. It's only then when I hear a slight crash coming from the kitchen, followed by a muffled curse, and my blood freezes.
There's somebody in my house.
I check the clock; the digits flash 11 a.m. Who attempts to rob a house this early in the afternoon? But then again, there are a lot of crazy people out there…
I silently walk over to my closet, and open it as quietly as possible. My old baseball bat, from high school athletics, sitting by the wall of my small closet, is in plain sight. I grab it, and gently walk out to the kitchen. Screw those girls in horror movies; if anyone's creeping around in my house, I'm gonna do something about it.
I hear light footsteps approaching me, and my heart is pounding so fast I'm sure I'm about to faint. I will myself to be silent, and as the figure is about to slip around the corner…
…I bring down the bat as hard as I can.
There's a loud string of curses that escape the mouth of my house creeper; more specifically, it's him. Dressed still in his rocker clothes- black leather jacket, black denim jeans, and white Converse shoes.
He's always been fast.
He's caught the bat, an angry red mark that blossoms in his pale hand. His eyes are shocked, annoyed, and then, mad.
"What the fuck, Sakura?" he snaps, and I gape at him. "Are you trying to kill me or something?"
There's something about the way he talks to me, like he'd never left, like we were still friends or something that jerks my mind back to reality. His tone instantly pisses me off. "Well if you weren't fucking around like a creeper, maybe I wouldn't have, you fuckhead."
I'm surprised at my colorful language, almost as surprised as he is. I've never spoken to him this way; usually, this kind of talk is reserved for Naruto. Sasuke was always 'Sasuke-kun' to me, never 'fuckhead'.
But time changes people, and I sure have changed.
.
.
.
To be continued…
.
.
.
Note: k, i probably know that you're all annoyed that i started another multi-chapter story without finishing my other ones, but it's just the way my brain works. inspiration strikes whenever. i promise though i'd never abandon any of my stories (even though it seems like i have) and i will get around to finishing them, i just don't feel it for some of them right now. not to keep y'all hanging or anything, i swear.
and it would be nice if more people gave me input on my stories and shit. like i see y'all favoriting and following and while i do appreciate that, reviews would be nice. like daisy (jinnyskeans) says, don't be lame.
but eh, do what you want. enjoy, boos.
-A
