Numbers.
#1.
Sasuke almost found himself wishing that he hadn't done it.
He almost wished that he had taken her offer.
He almost wished that he had taken Sakura with him.
Why?
Because he was frightened.
A deep, secret child-like part of him was frightened. The fact that he could admit he was scared (if even only to himself) annoyed him to no end. Fear was a sign of weakness and showing weakness at a time like this, before the infamous lord Orochimaru-sama, was not a wise thing to do. So as Sasuke stood before him, watching as the snake sannin practically drank in his physique with those horrid golden eyes while Kabuto lingered in the shadows, the young Uchiha (barely a boy trying to become a man) stuck out his chin and stood as tall and impassive as an old tree.
(He did not flinch. He did not flinch. He did not flinch.)
He didn't need some pink haired slip of a girl called Sakura to get stronger.
(What could she possibly offer other than a smile and tears)
He didn't need anybody. All he needed was enough strength to avenge his was all he wanted. It was enough for Sasuke.
(It was enough. It was enough. It was enough.)
(But what comes after vengeance?)
All he needed was strength, will-power and an impenetrable defense against everything on all sides. He didn't need smiling stupid pink haired (lovely kind and smiling at him) Sakura. He didn't need tacky Kakashi. He didn't need that idiot Naruto. They'd only get in the way.
Besides, they'd only hurt him in the end.
It was better to leave them behind where they couldn't get in the way.
It was better this way.
Sasuke knew this and knew it well.
(He rolled the words over in his mind like a heavy river stone, his fingers curling tightly around it's smoothed edges.)
Itachi had hurt him.
("Maybe some other time, Sasuke...")
And he wasn't going to allow himself to be hurt again.
(Never again. Never again. Never again.)
#2.
When Sakura awoke on the park bench with the back of her neck bruised and her eyes red and swollen and sore she couldn't help but stare towards the night sky and wonder what it would have been like if things had been perfect. Sasuke would have never tried to leave, and even if he had... she, Haruno Sakura (with her pink hair and open heart and endless love) would have been strong enough to stop him.
But she wasn't, and she never would be.
(What kind of ninja has pink hair?)
Sasuke had left the village.
(He had left her. Left her. Left. Her.)
Sakura was alone.
The cool night's breeze gave her a chill, and the pink haired girl curled into a tight ball, too tired and wary to move from her spot on the park bench.
(Was there really any point in moving now?)
She didn't think there was.
So as the sun began to rise and the air lost it's chilling bite Sakura remained, waiting at the village gates on that small park bench, waiting and hoping that, perhaps, she would awake from this dream, this nightmare, to find that none of this had ever happened. Kakashi would be late like always, Naruto would shout and throw up a fuss, and Sasuke would grunt and stuff his hands deep into his pockets.
And Sakura, with her pink hair and overfilled heart, would treat him as though he were the center of her universe.
Now all she needed to do was wake up and everything would be perfect again.
