It was the single most awkward moment of her entire life—standing there, next to her ex-boyfriend, in an empty room, with no one to keep them company but silence.
Sakura thought she could kill Naruto. There was no way he hadn't realized he'd asked them both to come at the same time, and this emergency of his that appeared to have sprung out of nowhere was more than a little suspicious.
She'd never hated his tendency to stick his nose in everybody's business more than she did in that very moment.
But he only had good intentions, she remembered, and it was that which seemed to save him, time and time again, from a lecture that should leave his ears bleeding and scarred. He loved her; he loved Sasuke; he wanted them to be happy. He simply had a small issue realizing when to stop meddling and understanding the true gravity of a situation—a long-time issue that she'd eventually come to accept about him, because that was what friends did: accepted each other despite their flaws.
Taking a sip of her cold beer, she shifted her weight to her right leg.
She'd been invited to Naruto and Hinata's engagement party—or, rather, pre-engagement party. The Hyuuga family had taken the small, intimate gathering wanted by the soon-to-be newlyweds and turned it into a blown-out, formal event that had guests coming from every corner of Fire Country and beyond, so the two of them had settled for the next best thing and organized a little house-warming party as a compromise. Being the good friend that she was, Sakura had promised to arrive early so she could help with the preparations, something to which Naruto had instantly agreed—something that should have rang alarm bells from the very start, she now realized. The blond was always complaining about how she worked too much, too hard, and took every opportunity to tell her to relax, to get some sleep, to take some time off.
At least now she knew why he hadn't cared this time around.
Standing across from her, separated only by the small kitchen island, was Sasuke, in all his glory. Save for the fact that he wasn't dressed in his usual ninja gear, but rather in casual jeans and a navy button-down shirt, he looked exactly the same as the last time she'd seen him—exactly the same as he'd always looked.
She ignored the selfish part of her that she knew had wished—maybe even expected, to a certain degree—to see him look different; to see something in his expression, in his stance, in his eyes… something, anything, to tell her that he'd missed her, at least a little bit, at least for a little while, at least at night or in the mornings when he didn't find breakfast on the table.
There was nothing.
Same cold eyes, same emotionless countenance, same spiky hair that seemed to defy gravity. He was just as tall, just as strong, just as painfully beautiful and infuriatingly composed.
A light breeze blew in from the open patio doors, and she shivered in her sleeveless dress.
"So…" she started, eager to break the silence, willing to do just about anything to ease the awkwardness of the situation—and the painful clench of her heart. "How have you been?"
Even his response was the same. "Hn."
She huffed, smiling bitterly to herself before taking another sip of her beer. She should have known he would never change, and as much as she tried to see it as a good thing—because, after all, if that was the case, then it couldn't have been her fault that their relationship hadn't worked; it wasn't her that hadn't managed to make him open up, but him who hadn't wanted to—she couldn't help the way her heart squeezed in her chest and her eyes prickled with the familiar sting of hot tears.
She hated herself because of that; because of her blatant weakness, especially with how hard she'd worked, for all of her life, not to be vulnerable. But her armor stopped functioning when it came to him. It always had, and now she knew it always would.
So, she hated him. She hated him for doing what he did to her—and then she hated herself again, for allowing him to. She should have stayed away, from the very start. She should have listened to everybody who dared to point out the truth she was trying so hard to ignore. She should have realized he wouldn't make her happy. She should have known.
Should have, should have, should have.
And yet, she'd done none of it.
She and Sasuke had been happy, in the beginning. At least, that was what she thought. She'd yet to work out whether that had only been because she'd been so happy to finally have him, finally be able to hold him and kiss him, and tell people he was hers, or because there had truly, honestly been happy times for both of them—because they'd both been content in each other's presence.
On the especially cold, lonely nights, she had to live with the thought that it had all been just an illusion.
But then, slowly, the joyful glow had dissipated, and she'd come to realize just how hard it was to love him. She wanted to. God knew she wanted to. And she did, with all of her heart. But he made it so, so difficult. He didn't let her. He pushed her away more than he let her in and every step forward that they seemed to take was followed by two steps back.
She lasted for two entire years. Two years of waiting for a sign that he felt the same way. Two years of waiting not for a spoken 'I love you', but for a gesture, as small as it might have been. For him to hold her hand in public. For him to stop pulling away from her hugs. For him to initiate a kiss without its only purpose being to take it further.
She didn't even ask for much. She didn't ask for words, because she knew they came hard for him. She didn't ask for a proposal, because she knew how insecure he felt about the prospect of a family ever since he found out the whole truth about his brother and his clan. She didn't even dare to ask for the same love that she had for him. All she asked for was for him to care about her—and to show her that, at least once. Once would have been enough. It had been all she'd asked for.
And he'd blatantly refused to give it to her.
She knew she'd left her heart with him the day she'd walked out of their apartment—but, by being away from him, she'd ensured she couldn't feel when he cut into it anymore.
Not as much as she did when they were together, at least.
Shaking her head at the prolonged silence, Sakura set her beer bottle on the granite counter and grabbed her small purse, turning around to leave.
She made it two steps from the kitchen entrance before he called out for her.
"Running away again?" he drawled in his lazy voice, and she almost got angry.
She turned to face him. "I'm not going to stand here and pretend this isn't awkward."
No emotion crossed his face. "So, what are you going to do?"
"Leave. I'll come back later, when Naruto's already here."
"That's ridiculous, Sakura," he huffed—three words that almost broke her.
That's ridiculous, Sakura, he'd say whenever she voiced a thought or a silly theory.
That's ridiculous, Sakura, he'd say whenever she talked about adding vegetables to a dish that didn't have them in it.
That's ridiculous, Sakura, he'd say whenever she let him know she would be in the hospital for longer than was considered normal.
That's ridiculous, Sakura, he said when she walked out on him and motivated her decision by telling him it was almost as if they weren't a couple anymore. It was as if they were mere roommates, greeting each other when they arrived home, saying goodnight when they went to sleep, asking each other if they should cook for one or two. That he didn't talk to her, that he didn't let her in his mind, that he didn't want her in his life. It's ridiculous, Sakura. Ridiculous that she'd imagined their life together would be any different. Ridiculous that she thought she'd be better off without him.
That's ridiculous. It was all she'd gotten out of him that night. It was the only argument he'd offered. It was the only thing he'd had to say—the phrase that he thought summed up their entire relationship. And it almost hurt more than the way he'd been the one to leave the scene first, turning on his heel to close himself into their bedroom.
Two years, and it seemed that she didn't even deserve to have him watch her back as she left.
Why did you never love me? She almost—almost asked. But she bit her tongue in the last moment, and instead breathed out a simple whisper, "Why?"
Sasuke looked at her blankly.
Slowly, she walked towards him, making her way, step by painful step, back to her previous spot.
Eventually, he asked. "Why what?"
"Why…" She stopped. There were so many questions that started with 'why'. So many questions that had—and would—remain unanswered. So many doubts about their relationship that still haunted her.
Why didn't you love me?
Why didn't you hold my hand?
Why didn't you hold me when I slept?
Why didn't you stop me from leaving?
Why didn't you seek me out afterwards?
Why didn't you care?
"Why didn't you break up with me?" she asked instead.
When he seemed genuinely taken aback by her question, she celebrated a small victory—she'd finally managed to make his poker face fall, if only for a second.
"What kind of question is that?" But his cryptic answers were still there, and she quickly realized she'd barely scratched his armor—a scratch in so many others that only marred the surface.
"I know you never loved me," she said.
In the back of her mind, she wondered how she had ended up having this conversation. She wondered why it was that, even after all these years, she couldn't stand to be in a room with him for more than five minutes before she broke down and started crying. She wondered, not for the first time, why she was still so damn weak when everybody else was already miles and miles ahead of her in every single aspect.
"I know you were never happy with me. I get that. But two years… Why didn't you end it sooner? You didn't bat an eyelash when I left." A tear escaped her eye and trailed down her cheek, and she did everything in her power to hold in a sob. "Why did you lead me on?"
A minute passed before he spoke. "I wasn't unhappy with you," he said, bringing his own bottle to his lips and looking away. "You're the one who left."
"And you did nothing to stop me!" she almost yelled, slamming her purse down on the counter.
Sasuke shrugged, gaze still averted. "I'd known you would."
"What?" she breathed.
"I'd known you would," he repeated, louder.
For a moment, her world stood still. She was shocked. Then the anger stepped in. "Don't you dare," she hissed. "Don't you dare say that to me! I've stood by your side through everything, Uchiha Sasuke! I've loved you through everything, my entire life, no matter what you did, no matter what people said—no matter what, I've loved you forever!"
His answer was soft-spoken and simple. "Then why did you leave?" He sounded betrayed and hurt—and Sakura wouldn't allow him the privilege.
"Why did I leave?" she shrieked. "I spent two years of my life with a man who didn't even answer me when I asked how his mission went or what he wanted for dinner or what he thought of my new dress! You didn't hold my hand, you didn't kiss me, you didn't ask what was wrong when I was sad! You did nothing of what a normal boyfriend would do, and you know what? You know what?! That would have been fine! It would have been perfectly fine if I'd known I actually had a place in your life!"
"You did," he said.
"Then why didn't you come for me?" she retaliated. Her voice turned soft. "All you'd had to do, Sasuke… was grab my arm and tell me to stay. Knock on my door and tell me to come back. Anything… anything to show me that I was in your life because you wanted me there, not because… because I just was."
His onyx eyes flashed with anger. "Is that what this was, then? A test?"
"No," she said, shaking her head. "But I waited up for you… so many nights… watched the door of my office for so many days… wanting you to open it. But you never did. You never came."
A moment passed in silence.
Sasuke broke it with a heavy sigh. "You'd known all along I wouldn't make you happy."
"You didn't have to," she said. "That… was all you had to do." She looked down. "I'm sorry I left you." The words came out shaky and choked. "I'm sorry, Sasuke. I really am. But the least I deserve, for loving you unconditionally… is for you to want that love. And to cherish it. There's no other way this could work… and I'm sorry I didn't know that from the very beginning."
SasuSaku Month 2014: July 15th—her side of the story
A/N: As stated, this was written for SasuSaku Month. It's a two-shot, so his side of the story (ish) will also be posted, tomorrow. I had to switch the days so that the plot made sense, but I'm sure you don't mind!
Please let me know what you thought! :)