Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto. Just like I do not own Tuzki.
Author's Note: Sasuke is essentially a month late coming back from a mission.
Where The Home Is
It is twilight.
And Sakura sits on a bench by the village gates, watching as the sky gradually wilts from purple to gray. The drone of cicadas is a steady bass line to the treble of children's laughter and top notes of lilting small talk.
The air is humid, sticky, and smothering. It causes Sakura's thighs to stick uncomfortably against the wooden bench and she must lift them periodically in order to "un-stick" them. Her pink hair is plastered uncomfortably against her neck but she does not have a rubber band to tie it up.
Sakura looks down into her lap, where her small hands are clenched tightly against the thin fabric of her faded cotton dress. She fiddles aimlessly with the golden band on her left ring finger. The diamond twinkles vividly even in the dim light of pre-evening, reflecting the superfluity of colors above.
She draws a long shuddering breath into her aching lungs and exhales in a huff through her nose before slowly closing her eyes. The actions provide little comfort for her pessimistic thoughts; filled with too many what ifs and maybes.
Sakura does not want to be in that house tonight, the rooms are just too empty. She does not want to wait and contemplate and wonder in that husk of a shelter. She just does not have the courage.
Her face is ashen and pale; un-beautified even by the blush of dusk.
Sakura is waiting.
Her heart beats steady and dry and crackling in her chest while her stomach flips liquidly with the waves of anxiety and fear. Sakura licks her lips chapped. They are salty with sweat or unshed tears.
And suddenly, a high gust of wind picks the hair off her neck and ruffles the edges of her dress. Sakura opens her eyes and guided by instinct turns her crystalline gaze to the gate.
He is here.
And before her mind can even register the shadow of a figure, her heart is already pounding and her feet are already running.
The distance feels immeasurable.
Sakura collides into him with a soft "umph" and locks her arms around him just to make sure he is real. The unexpected weight of her embrace is too much for his injured body and his knees give out as they both collapse together into the dusty road.
Sasuke usually abhors public displays of affection but he consents to this and relaxes into her tightening embrace. He has missed her too.
And Sakura says nothing to him; only squeezes him tighter and buries her face into his solid shoulders. She vaguely notes that he smells of sweat, smoke, and blood. And home, mostly he smells of home.
Sakura finds that she cannot help it, no matter how hard she tries, the tears leak out anyway and so she gives up trying and cries unabashedly on his shoulder. Sakura can feel the wetness as her tears soak into his shirt.
The steady metronome of his breathing in her ears and the radiating warmth of his chest on her heart only makes her cry all the harder and she squeezes him again just to make sure.
And all around them, the sun sets in a blaze of glory.
Sasuke is back.
And Sakura is home.
Reviews would be awesome!