"Why aren't you fighting back?" she pauses, ceasing the harsh assault of her fists on his chest.
Sasuke stands still. He simply stares at her, silently telling her that's a stupid question. It's obvious. I'm letting you have your revenge. "I'm letting you accomplish your goal," he says. He says it so easily, his voice deep and smooth, but there is no trace of emotion in it.
Sakura drops her arms in defeat. Both of them brought back to the past as the leaves swirl around their bodies. The sudden gust of wind reminds her of that night. That night that he left Konoha, left Team Seven, left her. She was facing his back, just like always. Back then she had screamed, cried, and begged, but now, the unspoken words echo in the silence.
Revenge won't make you happy.
It was true then and true now. Sasuke Uchiha is foolish, but he isn't stupid. He has always known this. He does not need Sakura to remind him. The night his family died, all chances of him ever being happy again was buried deep into the earth as he dropped the bouquet of pink carnations on top of his mother's coffin.
Revenge wasn't for happiness. Revenge wasn't for justice. Sasuke's resolve claimed it was for closure. That would have to be enough.
He glances over at Sakura, the glints of something silver catching his eye. Her right hand grips it carefully, avoiding the blade. It has poison, he realizes. Unknown to her, Sasuke's onyx eyes are scrutinizing every movement, following her left hand as it traced over invisible bruises. At this he looks away, desperately trying to forget how his control slipped and forced his hand to break his vow. He remembers her tears, how easy it would have been to kill her if he used just a little more force. The guilt threatens to consume him, reminding him that he was a murderer. Even now, he wonders how he could have ever done it. Sakura is different from Naruto and Kakashi. He had always avoided hitting her during training, trying to keep her away from harm. He remembers every painful detail, but there is no recollection of what he was thinking at the time.
The barely there sound of her shoes crushing the grass breaks him out of his monster-filled cage. Her left fist is headed towards him again, holding promises of pain. Instinct almost makes him evade, but his will freezes his body, waiting for the attack. The knuckles of her right hand are turning white with the harsh grip she has on the blade of poison. He waits, staring into the once bright emerald eyes that have now faded into a dull jade.
A chakra-laced punch sends him into a cluster of trees, the force enough to split and send him through a dozen or so trees, finally stopping to dent a thick trunk. His legs fail to support him and his body is slumping towards the ground. Sakura is quick to follow gripping the collar of a plain black shirt reminiscent of their genin days.
"I hate you."
The melodic voice doesn't match the seething tone. The grip is loosening on his collar; the knuckles are no longer white. His hand swiftly grabs her wrist. He glances at the blade in her other hand before moving his gaze back to her face. There is confusion in her eyes, overwhelmed by the fear she fought not to show. His eyes are no longer filled with hatred. There's sorrow enough to drown her in the endless black pools, not a hint of red in sight.
"I'm sorry, Sakura."
For a moment, time stops. Their gazes held together by an invisible string. The world slowly comes back to them, bringing them back into reality. He recovers first, listening to the quickened pace of her heart. Sasuke's hand moves down to grip hers, their fingers overlapping on the handle of the kunai. Without hesitation, his eyes never leaving her frozen stare, he plunges the kunai deep into the left side of his chest. Half a second later, he pulls it out and throws it somewhere far from them, droplets of his blood staining the evergreen grass as the kunai embeds itself into the cherry blossom tree he had been sitting under.
The splatter of blood as his heart stops brings Sakura back to life. She releases his shirt as his eyes close and his body slumps forward. Tears fall as their bodies fall to the ground. The weight of his body presses against hers, threatening to suffocate her. The blood soaks through her shirt quickly and the warmth of the liquid startles her out of her stupor. She rolls his body off her quickly, her hands staining with blood as she tries to close the gaping wound.
Sasuke. Sasuke. Sasuke-kun.
Images of Sasuke's dead body from her worst nightmares float through her head. His last words taunt her. This is closure for him, leaving her to deal with his dead body and open heart.
No, no that won't happen she tells herself. Her chakra desperately pours into his heart.
(To be continued.)
