Summary: Sakura was always a dreamer; wishes and dreams were better than reality. Sasuke was always a realist; wishes were superficial, fake, and unnecessary. In which Sakura stops dreaming, and Sasuke starts hoping.
Standard disclaimer applies here
Infinity
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Why would you wait…
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Three years.
It's been three years.
Three years since Sasuke's long-awaited return. Three years since the downfall of Madara Uchiha. Three years since her boys came back, arm in arm, bloody from head-to-toe, smirking and grinning with the look of pure victory on their faces.
It's also been three years of waiting, of wishing, of hoping, of dreaming.
Dreaming of the day Sasuke would acknowledge her as a teammate, as someone worthy of his time, as someone who cares-
-As a friend.
(Because Sasuke-kun will never think of her as anything else, now would he?)
And so she dreams and hopes and wishes. The stars become her best friend, the night sky becomes her blanket, and her dreams become the string of hope that attaches her to reality.
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…for something that will never happen?
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Knock, knock.
A tall, lean figure answers the door, onyx eyes glaring at the nervous pink-haired girl standing before him.
She's twirling her lovely pink hair (he notices that it's gotten longer, and now tumbles down her back in waves) and he narrows his eyes, because why is she bothering him? She's just a fangirl, an annoying little girl that yearns for attention and butts in when she's not needed.
(…isn't she?)
"Sasuke-kun, I was wondering…," she starts, but is abruptly cut off.
"No." he says harshly. "I'm busy right now."
His eyes are cold (sososo cold) and his tone is harsh and annoyed, because (you're annoying, leave me alone) she's not worth his time (or so he thinks).
He hates her pretty green eyes, which seem to look right into his dark, dark soul. He hates her lively pink hair, which paints his black-and-white world with bright colours that he doesn't need, doesn't want. He hates her soft, ivory skin, which he yearns to touch, and he hates her pretty pink lips, which he always imagines saying his name like a prayer. He hates that she's everything he could've had but never will.
He hates her, so, so, so much.
"But…,"
"Go away."
"…Okay."
He slams the door in her (pretty, distracting) face, and storms into the living room. He pretends he doesn't hear her soft sobs, pretends he doesn't see her glistening tears, and he pretends he doesn't care.
(-but he does. He really does)
He sighs.
(What do you see in me, pretty girl? What makes you so drawn to me?)
(Why do you care so much? Can't you see I'm no good for you?)
He runs a pale hand through his dark tresses.
This is reality, he decides, and reality is the harsh truth. He will never be with the girl, because he's not good enough for her. He'll never, ever be enough, because she deserves so much better.
(-and that's why reality was better than fantasy, because it was real. There is no use of false hopes.)
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Why do you wish…
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She doesn't bother him again.
She still greets him with a polite tone when bump into each other in the supermarket, and she still comes along (sometimes, when she's not busy; but, she usually is) when Naruto drags them all together for a Team Seven dinner at Ichiraku's, but it seems as if there were a shift in the air, like their bond had changed that day, but Sasuke doesn't mind. He doesn't care.
(But deep down, he does. Don't you, you silly, selfish boy?)
He doesn't care that she no longer addresses him as "Sasuke-kun" (but it does, it kills him on the inside) and he doesn't care that the stars in her eyes have been put out (by him, his mind whispers) and he doesn't, doesn't, especially doesn't care when she smiles for everybody else but him.
(But you do, don't you? It angers you and it hurts you that you've been changed in her heart.)
And he walks past her, who is smiling and blushing and giggling to Shikamaru, and ignores the stabbing ache in his chest and the dreadful feeling in the pit of his stomach.
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…for impossible miracles to happen?
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She's no longer Sakura Haruno. She's no longer a dreamer. She no longer wishes. She no longer yearns for her happily-ever-after.
Her stars have been put out, and her dreams have been ripped away.
Her world becomes not black, nor white, but rather a dull gray.
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When will you realize…
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Sasuke finally begins to see the beauty of the stars.
He doesn't know what makes him do this, but something does. Something in his hardened heart tells him to do something (because it just might be too late) and he does. He doesn't know why he trains himself until he's beyond repair (it's a little too late for that, he already is), until he's bloody and hurts all over, but he does.
(Secretly, he knows why. Because only she can fix him-)
He heads off to the hospital, leaving a trail of blood, wobbling.
(-but will she? Or has he broken her too much?)
But he keeps his head up, and stares straight at the starry sky…
…and for the first time, in a very, very, very long time…
…Sasuke begins to hope.
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…that you're worth so much more?
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There are loud gasps in the hospital as nurses take in the sight of him. Judging for the volume of their gasps and the widened eyes, Sasuke concludes that he must look awful.
(He feels awful-)
The nurses all crowd around him, hollering for a stretcher, screaming for help, yelling for her- Dr. Haruno.
(-until he sees her.)
A string of emotions play through her eyes (it ignites the hope inside him, because…because…) before dulling down, back to her normal, stoic look. (And silently he crashes, because she doesn't care?)
"Uchiha-san," she says, and he hates the way she says his name- so formal, so distant, so un-Sakura-like. She grips his arm to support him, and leads him to her office. "This way, please."
(He hates the way she addresses him like a stranger, as if they hadn't known each other forever.)
In her office, he sits on the checkup bed quietly, and stares at her face while she prepares bandages for him.
So much had changed in her since that day, when he rudely and harshly turned her away.
Her ivory skin no longer glistens like fresh snow, but is rather bland like dirt. Her pretty green eyes no longer shine like the stars, but they're dull, like a dying plant. Altogether, she looks like a dying blossom; once so beautiful, but hitting the edge.
(Look what you've done, you monster, he thinks, you've crushed your own future.)
(Look what you've caused, he accuses, and all she did was care for you.)
And he hates himself suddenly. He hates that his mother was not here to give him words of advice, that his father is not here to support him, that Itachi is not here to encourage him.
Her back is turned to him, and he hears her say to him quietly, "You should be more careful, Uchiha-san." She turns towards him with a bunch of clean, white wraps, and gently takes his arm, bandaging it.
(But she doesn't look at you anymore.)
"I'll bandage these up so you don't get infected. Come in tomorrow and I'll have a nurse change them for you."
Sasuke doesn't care about his cuts, though. All he cares about are her pretty green eyes.
(Look at me, he screams silently. Show me you still love me.)
He waits.
(She doesn't.)
She finishes and turns away, saying cheerfully, "You're all set to go, Uchiha-san!" and she doesn't turn toward him again; instead, she busies herself by putting her medical things away.
He takes this as his cue to leave, but he doesn't. Instead, he reaches out and takes her arm, pulling her back against his newly-bandaged chest. She lets out a soft gasp, and he wraps his muscular arms around her, tucking his head in the curve of her shoulder. She stiffens almost instantly.
"Uchiha-san?" Sakura asks, quietly. "What are you doing?"
"Stop," he says. "Stop."
She doesn't turn around to look at him (how could she?) but she replies, "What?"
(Stop calling me Uchiha-san, he wants to scream. Stop looking away. Stop leaving. Stop forgetting me.)
But he doesn't say that.
And the next few words that tumble out of his mouth are uncontrolled, but he doesn't mind- because she is the one who needs to hear it from him most.
"I'm sorry." He pauses. "I'm sorry I pushed you away that day. I didn't mean to. It was on impulse." He sighs. "You deserve better than me, Sakura. I've hurt you. You don't want to be with me."
He hears her breath hitch, like his words have shocked her (and they do, because they're so rare) and when she finally turns to look at him, he instantly wants to punch himself, because they are two delicate crystal tears rolling down her porcelain cheeks.
(And she slowly comes back to life.)
He pulls her to his chest again, but this time she relaxes against him, head buried in his shoulder. "I think everyone deserves a second chance, Sasuke. You've had it rough. Don't be so harsh on yourself." Sakura takes a deep breath. "And that day…well, I just wanted to spend the day with you. As a friend."
(Stop calling me Sasuke.)
"Kun," he says bluntly, and she looks up at him in surprise. "You forgot the -kun."
And when she smiles, he feels the weightless and breathless.
"I just wanted to be friends, Sasuke-kun."
"Aa," he replies, and buries his face in her vanilla-scented hair.
"I didn't think you wanted to be, though," she says, "so I didn't bother you anymore."
"You do bother me," he says suddenly, and hugs her tighter.
Sakura pulls away slightly, hurt. "Oh, I-" but Sasuke keeps a tight hold of her, because she needs to know this and get it in her head.
"You bother me when you're not around," he says, breathing in her lovely scent. "You bother me when you're with other guys. You bother me when you don't look at me. You bother me when you smile for everyone else but me." You bother me when you act like you don't care.
Sakura stares at him, eyes wide and bright and sparkling, expression agape-
(There's love in her look, his heart jumps. She still cares.)
-and stands on her tippy-toes, pressing a feather light kiss on the corner of his mouth. It's sweet, sudden, and breathtaking, as Sasuke whips his head down and looks at her, surprised.
"I'm sorry for bothering you, then."
A smirk finds its way to his lips. "Hn," he smirks, and it's close to a smile, but he doesn't mind. Not now, when he's with her.
"Since you've injured yourself, would you like to come over for dinner?" she asks playfully, eyes glistening with happiness as she smiles brightly at him.
"Aa," he replies, but hesitantly adds (hesitant? Sasuke? Seems like she's changed you already.), "I don't deserve this, after all I've-"
And she cuts him off abruptly, intertwining their fingers and squeezing them tight. "I've already decided, Sasuke-kun. You can't change my mind."
She smiles at him warmly, and Sasuke squeezes her smooth, soft hand back- and glances out the window at the sky, thinking, mother, father, Itachi…I think…I think I've finally forgiven myself.
(-and under a billion glistening stars, they begin to believe again.)
Fin.
Note: Oldie. I wrote another one super similar to this, minus all the italics and stuff...don't know if I'm gonna post it or not. Anyway, I've been crazy busy with exams and all that (staying up studying till 2 am the night before is NOT a good idea) since they're all back-to-back (like what bullshit) and PITTSBURGH LOST TO BOSTON LIKE WTF so yeah. Life's been stressful. But I'm alive, no complainin'.
Tell me what you think!
-A