Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.
Vanishing Orchestras
It isn't exactly what she expects, you know...—
The way he admits to everything.
It was the first day after their college setting, where she joins his large project. It has to do with oil and refinery or something—she has never exactly known, for all she knew it could have been some assassination corporation. He asked for her and a few friends to join him in this, because just maybe one day it could be big and famous, and being new to life and not being babied anymore, she accepts his offer.
Because, hell, this is Sasuke she's talking about.
No matter how hard she wishes to admit it and no matter how much she tries to deny it, she can't turn him down. If he ever asked her to jump off a building—with him of course—she probably would.
The saying love makes you do crazy things, well, maybe, it's actually true. Maybe it wasn't some senile, decrepit hag who came up with that just for kicks. Maybe she was rational and hopeful, and irrational and hopeless all in one.
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"We accept the love we think we deserve."
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It was in middle school where they first met. They were complete strangers, merely bounded with one common friendship—Naruto. They never once spoke to each other and neither one of them seemed to mind that.
It was in high school, however, that Sakura started realizing that maybe she wanted him as a friend. So, she bluntly asked him to become her friend. He snorted at her and got back to his preoccupied life, but that didn't stop her. Being fully aware of each other and giving [and/or receiving] the casual grunt, they became full-fledged acquaintances.
Then, finally, college came. It's not cliché, because they didn't go to the same college, but that didn't stop them from being roommates. If she ever could thank Naruto for one thing in specific, it was getting her kicked out of her own house. For that was what caused her to finally become friends with Sasuke, and regretfully admit to her hopeless devotion.
And maybe it is too slow for her liking, but no matter how painstakingly long it took, their relationship continually grew.
It's something she is glad about, no matter how much she wishes it was faster and lovelier and more open and they were together and they weren't so hopeless.
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"I would die for you. But I won't live for you."
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When she is sitting in his office, watching how he spills the coffee, watching how his shoulders tense up with unimaginable stress, and watching how he constantly work, work, works—she just doesn't understand it at all.
Why he always just sits there, days upon end, doing his silly paperwork.
Once in a while, on that rare occasion, will he glance up to her and glare. But, he isn't glaring at her, moreover, through her. At the picture that she is calmly sitting in front of—that one of them in college.
It isn't a spiteful glare, nor is it one filled with anger.
It's filled with nostalgia and mixed with regret, and it's filled with pain and longing and wanting and every emotion he never-ever-ever displays. It makes her sad too, that he almost refuses to show emotion like this, because she wants to be part of that emotion and part of his life.
And sometimes she forgets, that she can just get up and leave.
Head off and buy a practice, because she is prosperous enough and she has already paid off all of her medical-school debts. She could leave this job at any given moment and head off to finish her dream.
But she doesn't.
She can't get up and leave him, and she doesn't know why. She craves her dream so much, but she craves him so much more. Then again, she regrets how she craves him, because he is married and has children and knows better. And she tells herself that she knows better too; and then she scolds herself, because, apparently she doesn't know any better.
"Sasuke-kun..." She whispers when she watches him bury his head into his hands. She can see that silver band's luster as it gleams effortlessly under the moonlight's scattered illumination.
He must have heard her, because with a worn sigh he looks at her and frowns. She doesn't know why he always frowns at her and she can't even explain how much she wishes he didn't. "...let's go get a drink."
He eyes her suspiciously, almost like he thinks she has spontaneously become some late-night, date rapist. She reluctantly sees how he's in a constant turmoil, his insides struggling and yelling at him to quickly deny her offer. But, somehow, for the first time in ages, he nods his head to the smallest degree. "Alright."
She smiles and stands up, skipping over to him. He almost snorts at her child-like gestures, but time has made him grow weary of any form of displayed emotions—so the corner of his lip tugs up the slightest.
She offers her hand to him in order to help him up and pouts when he denies it. "I figured with all this work you do, old age was catching up rather quickly." She points to the bags under his eyes and the obvious frown. He waves away her hand and gets up on his own. "But—it's cool. Go ahead and deny my help."
He gives an auspicious smirk and shoves a hand in his pant's pocket. "Stop acting like a fool, Sakura."
"You still haven't gotten that stick out of your ass, huh?"
He gives a faint glare and an exasperated sigh. "You see me almost everyday, and you somehow think I might have changed?"
"No, but there's a chance for everything."
He looks out of the windowed walls into the endless night and twists his face in annoyance. "Not always."
Sakura doesn't say anything, maybe hoping that the lulled tune of their past will die.
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"Sometimes people use thought to not participate in life."
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Sakura knows that neither one of them are much of drinkers, but she especially knows that neither one of them are ones to get drunk. But, today her calculations are flawed, for here they were drinking glass after glass of alcohol. She can only sigh, Sasuke was always better at making calculations anyways.
"Sasuke-kun, maybe we should stop—" She is beginning to realize how much they were drinking, but the liquor sliding down her throat felt so right in this moment.
"Christ, Sakura." Sasuke groans into his shot glass. "Why are you doing this to me?" His eyes are in a vociferous glare and he beckons the bartender for another drink.
"Sasuke-kun?" She asks confused, because she is too innocent, and too naïve and too illogical to understand him.
He scoffs in anguish, gulping down the vodka. "You're so annoying, you know that?" He finally sets his glass down and is facing her. "So fucking annoying. And that's what I hate."
"H-Hate? S-Sasuke-kun, maybe you should slow down on the drinks." She sees him shake his head and grimace. "I don't mean to be annoying." She whispers innocently into the rum. "I swear...— I don't."
He opens his mouth to reply, but shuts it immediately. She watches his internal fight begin, once in awhile she wishes he wouldn't try to hide himself from her. It would make everything so much—
"I want to kiss you." He's beginning to slur, but his tone is still managing to be completely serious.
—simpler.
"Sasuke-kun, you're married."
He looks into her eyes and grabs her hand with a swift movement. She's on the verge of a breakdown, Sasuke is touching her, he initiated the contact.
"I want to kiss you, Sakura." He says again, and she can't decipher whether or not he was pleading.
Because this is Sasuke.
She's surprised when she needs to stifle her laughter. "I've always wanted to kiss you Sasuke, but we can't."
He's angry and she can tell, but he doesn't let her hand go. He gives a frustrated growl, but doesn't stop his persistence. "I don't like repeating myself, you know that."
"Too well." Sakura breathes, sulkily. "And you always said I was the obdurate one."
Sasuke then looks at the ceiling, watching almost amused at the small strobe lights that are flashing. "You love me?"
She doesn't want to reply, because it is wrong to say yes. But, she needs to let him know because Sasuke is Sasuke and she doesn't want to lie to him.
"I do."
Sasuke then gives a small, sincere smile, she can barely see it. It's so un-Sasuke-like when he says his next words.
"What if I said that back?"
"I... You..." Her eyes soften and she can understand why they are stinging. She waits awhile before responding.
Taking another large gulp of her alcohol, she looks at Sasuke, pitying him. "Maybe if you weren't married and you didn't have a child. Maybe if we could go back in time and not make mistakes and not ignore our feelings and accept—"
He brings her into a full-fledged kiss and ignores her weak protests. She is feebly pressing against his shoulders, softly slapping his chest, but returning his kiss with an equal amount of passion.
"He isn't mine." He reluctantly glowers when they break apart.
Sakura's breath hitches and she is dubious. "W-What?"
"She hid the test from me, for so long... so—" Sasuke mutters incoherent speech for awhile and he buries his head into his hands, letting out a groan. "So fucking long a-and...—I didn't know."
"Sasuke... You're, you're his father, because you're the one that has been there for him." Her breath is hard and she can't understand anything, it's almost like the room is spinning wildly. "Maybe not biologically, but paternally you have taken on the role of his father... You can't deny that."
"Aa." He agrees grudgingly. "But, I don't want something that isn't mine."
Sakura blinks, praying so hard that her tears aren't falling yet.
"I'm not yours... Do you... Do you not want me too?" Sakura screams in trepidation, the bartender ignores both of them. For he deals with this all the time, and their fight and discussion is no more interesting and different from all of the others.
He pauses contemplating whether he should answer to that. "What if I told you that this whole fucking marriage is a lie?" He doesn't. "I'm never home, she's out with whoever...—"
"It's not like you're a social fucking butterfly anyways." She mumbles under her breath. Her composure is dead and her whole body is slouched in a completely un-ladylike manner. "I... Sasuke-kun...—" She just sits there crying, her tear drops melding with the bitter rum in her drink.
"And what if... What if I finally apologized?"
Sakura doesn't even hear him over her uncontrollable sobs. "Why... Why are you telling me this now?"
He shrugs. "I'm drunk."
She refuses to look at him the rest of the time they are there and only 10 minutes after does she decides to leave. She watches him apathetically turn around, almost as though he knows she is going to come back. Then she finally speaks her farewell.
"What if's are meaningless in our life, Sasuke-kun." Her hand raises and brushes a strand of pink locks behind her ear, showing how uncomfortable she is in her current situation. "They can only have answers if we make assumptions and pretend that there is another chance."
He opens his mouth to reply in the gap she left, he wants to explain that those what if's are their second chance. That he is ready to accept everything they could have had and make it into something they should have had a long time ago. "Sakura..." He manages to whisper under his breath—one smothered with alcohol.
"Sasuke-kun," Her tears are streaming gracefully down her flushed cheeks, yet she gives him a beautiful smile. "I just want you to be there for her, like you weren't there for me."
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"And in that moment, I swear we were infinite."
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"You've requested to leave?" He asks, almost confused. Almost.
Her nod is slow, apprehensive. "Mm." She hums, fiddling with the hem of her skirt. She almost feels pathetic the way she can't even meet his eyes but he can stare her dead on with apathy. She could say she was jealous of him, to be able to act so cool on the outside, but she wasn't. She wasn't jealous of him not expressing how he feels.
He eyes her, slowly they are narrowing into a glare. "Why?"
"I just..."
He also mentions one thing she might have forgotten. "You suck at lying, so don't even try."
"I need to help you...— I want you to be free from yourself." She whispers, scared to death of her own words. Her hands are trembling and she doesn't know why. Maybe it was because she was finally saving him—freeing him from his facade.
"I don't need help." He claims, acid underlying his breath.
She flinches at his anger.
She flinches, because she knows deep down—she's never going to be able to save him.
She doesn't say anything when he slowly stands up. She doesn't turn and run away when he begins stalking up to her, slouched and looking towards the ground. And, she doesn't resist him when he finally engulfs her into an awkward hug, she can feel his hesitance—he was weary on whether or not he was allowed such human contact.
"Please... Just let... Let us pretend for a night." He says. In this moment, she finally hears, for the first time, such a desperation, such a hope, and such a need she never thought he was capable of.
And no matter how much it hurt to reject him, to walk away from him—she does.
Because it isn't right to love him.
And, maybe now, he can start—
He swiftly grabs her by her wrist, pulling her towards him.
—living.
"For the rest of my life." He states in a sad, matter-of-fact tone.
And she knows now, it was a promise from the beginning. Closing her eyes, her body limps and she remains in her place.
She's nostalgic. "Life?" She laughs. "We were swept into the tide long ago."
And they sit inside that large, black corporate building, not saying anything; but, remembering.
A/N: This has literally been done and sitting in my documents since, like, January. I'm a slow updater, aren't I? Haha. :D
EWHH its Kenna