Summary: They say to forgive and forget. But I can't. I still can't. Because when you've been torn down by the boy you've loved since day one, forgiveness doesn't come so easily.
Standard disclaimer applies here
Rise
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Stronger than the stupid things we do and then regret
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Knock, knock.
"I'm coming!"
Knock, knock, knock.
"Hold on a second!"
Knock, knock.
"Holy shit can you not fucking wait one second, you-" I snap when I pull my door open, angry. It's Saturday and it's eight in the morning; more specifically, it's one of my only days off from the hospital and I prefer not to be disturbed before noon. The war had taken a toll on the villagers and shinobi alike, and I'd spent the last few months at the hospital with Tsunade, spending restless nights healing injuries and performing surgeries. It was an exhausting job, and I relished any moment of relaxation I can have. Apparently my knocker didn't think much about this, because I am especially cranky when I'm awakened before I'm supposed to be. It's not a pretty sight. I glare at the person at my door, because not only did they disrupt my peaceful, work-free day, it's also the last person I want to see. Ever. My face twists in distaste. My reaction is instant.
"What the fuck do you want, Uchiha?"
-x-
He glares at me back (like he even has the nerve to, that piece of shit) and I take in his appearance- tense, rigid posture, dark circles under his obsidian eyes, his jet-black hair in disarray and his mouth set in a flat line. He looks deliciously unkempt, but I'd rather jump off a cliff and drown myself than feed his already overloaded ego.
"We need to talk," he says, completing ignoring the fact that I'm basically ready to murder him. He looks unfazed by my furious appearance, and looks at me, waiting for a response.
"It's eight in the morning. You've already ruined my day by being here. Leave." If it were me from, let's say, five years ago, I'd be squealing with delight. I'd be dying of happiness that my dear Sasuke-kun would walk to my house at eight in the morning wanting to talk to me. But that was then and this is now, and I'm now seventeen and a whole hell lot more responsible and reasonable than I was back then.
Sasuke looks annoyed with my attitude, and I couldn't care less. "No. We need to talk." His lips are curved downwards slightly in a frown, and he looks uneasy.
"I don't want to talk. There is nothing to say, okay? Can you just leave? It's early and I'm tired. Bye!" I give my best fake smile and move to shut (slam) the door in his face, but when I go and do that his hand shoots out, pushing the door back hard.
My temper flares and instantly, I'm beyond pissed. He had a tendency of pissing me off more and more lately, and I'm even surprised I haven't shattered every vertebra in his spinal column yet.
"I said we needed to talk," he says calmly, and I want to just smack him in the face. His closed-off facial expression snaps something in me. He's clearly unaffected by what he's done.
"I don't want to fucking talk," I seethe, my blood boiling, "not today or tomorrow or the day after or you know what? Not ever. Don't knock at my door, don't flag me down on the street, don't fucking show up at the hospital. I have nothing to say to you and I don't have the patience or the time to hear any bullshit coming out of your mouth." My head's spinning a hundred miles per hour and I have no idea where this courage is coming from, but I'm grateful. I need it now.
His reaction is as I'd expected it to be: impulsive, rash, and so goddamn predictable. I watch as his jaw clenches and a dangerous flare lights up in his eyes. "You're such a fucking child," he snarls, face twisted and instantly angry. I glare back, because I know that my Sasuke-kun from five years ago in nowhere to be found in this condescending boy. He's someone completely different.
"I come here to try to talk to you like a responsible adult," he continues, "but you're too immature for that. You know what? I don't fucking care. Stay mad. You're useless anyway."
What happens next I'm completely unaware of- unaware of my hand shooting out and making a forceful impact on Sasuke's cheek. It's pure instinct, because nobody talks to me like that, like I'm twelve years old again and weak. Like all I've trained for and all I've done is nothing.
I'm trembling in pure rage when I say, quietly, like the calm before a storm, "Go. Take your bullshit and just go. I don't want to speak to you ever again."
And with that I slam the door in his face, and I make sure he's gone before I break down on my kitchen floor and cry and cry and cry, for everything that was not meant to be.
-x-
I'm not mad at Sasuke because he'd left me on a stone cold bench in the park at midnight after I'd confessed my love to him.
I'm not mad at Sasuke because he's closer to Naruto than he is to me, because I understand that they're basically like brothers.
I'm not mad at Sasuke because he had a female on his team, that Karin girl (who is a lovely person, I must admit; she, Ino and I get along famously), whom I'd originally thought was my replacement.
No, I'm mad at Sasuke because he'd torn me down during the war. When Madara had us all trapped and I was trying to find a way to fix it, to restore Konoha to its former glory, to prove to him that I was finally at the same level as Naruto and him, he shut me down. All my years of training and working and training were put into question because of his comments.
"What can you do? You're useless."
"Pointless. You can't do anything."
And when I was pierced, did he care? No, he didn't. I didn't matter to him- I don't matter to him. He insulted my ability, tore down all my years of hard work, all in that condescending tone of his. I hated it. I hate him- at least that's what I tell myself.
After the war, several months after the reconstruction of Konoha, he'd approached me about healing him. I did, because I'm a medic and it's my job- not because I cared he was injured. By then I'd closed off; I'd been the distant one. Then he started showing up everywhere I went: work, the grocery store, the village square, wanting to talk. But would you want to talk to somebody who'd called you useless and pointless and basically declared all your efforts a waste?
He was the selfish one here. He only wanted to talk because I'd left that position empty. He only wanted to talk because he wanted to regain his supremacy in my heart, knowing that it'd give him power over me.
If I were honest with myself, I'd tell him that he wasn't kicked out from his throne in my kingdom of hearts. Instead, I'd tell him it was being blocked. A blockade. A quarantine. Something that'll protect it from being hurt again by him.
But we're all a bunch of liars and the truth is hard to come by.
-x-
I don't see him for an entire week, which I'm glad for. Instead I spend my Saturday out with Kiba, because he's nice. Boyishly charming and sweet. He takes me to Konoha Park, where all the pretty trees are blossoming pale pink flowers that float down from the branches like snow in the winter. Later that night, he takes me out to a fancy restaurant- a newly opened sushi place that was busy and bustling all day and night.
I dress fancy with a little black dress I'd borrowed from Ino, and I curl my hair and apply a light coat of makeup- I'm not very good at these things, since Ino usually does it for me. But she's out with Shikamaru right now, on their god-knows-what-number-date, and sometimes I'm envious of the relationship she has with Shikamaru. Familiar yet strange, like treading in ocean waters. But I'm happy for Ino, because she's my sister, my best fucking friend, and if she's happy then I am too.
Kiba and I stay out until midnight, and he walks me home under a blanket of stars. The weather is beautiful, and he is the perfect gentleman. I don't think about Sasuke. Almost.
And when he drops me off and bid farewell with a kiss on the cheek, I'm floating to my door, bathing in happiness. I haven't felt this way in a while.
I grab out my key from my black purse and as I unlock my door and step in, I hear a voice.
A deep, smooth, velvety voice that haunts my dreams and taunts my every waking moment.
"So you don't have time to talk to me, but you have time to go out with Inuzuka." Sasuke's standing at my door, appearing out of nowhere, mouth set into a deep frown. I ignore him and shut the door quietly in his face, fully expecting him to leave, but he doesn't. I hear his voice, low and deep and rich, through the thickness of the door.
"Is he good to you?" he asks, and words fall out of my mouth before they can be stopped. My resolve to ignore him crumbles.
"Yes," I say, speaking softly. "Yes, he is. Better than some guys have ever treated me." I take a deep breath. "Why are you here, Uchiha?"
I hear a sharp intake of breath from the other side of the door. Silence engulfs us, and right when I think he'd left, he speaks up again.
"I just wanted to apologize for whatever I'd done to you to make you upset. I didn't mean for my words to be so harsh."
And with those words that seep through the cracks of my armor I crumble and break. Shatter. There is no way of winning with this boy, who'd ripped out my heart so many years ago. If I were an immortal, I would spend eternity thinking of this boy. I feel tired, mentally and physically drained of all the fight in me. I'm tired of shedding unnecessary tears over this boy again, but sometimes it can't be helped.
A choked sob wracks my chest as I yank open the door. "Whatever you'd done to me? Didn't mean for your words to be so harsh? Uchiha you degraded me. You called me useless. You called me pointless. You didn't even give a shit that Madara hurt me!" He winces and opens his mouth to speak, but I cut him off. "Maybe you don't care, Uchiha, but at least you could act like it. Maybe sometimes I wish I could be as good as you or Naruto, but this is the best I've got right now and I've worked for it. I've worked my ass off for this. I don't need you to tell me I'm weak and helpless when I'm not. I don't want to have to question everything I've ever done because of you and your measly comments.
"So please stop making it harder than it needs to be, okay? I accept your apology but that doesn't mean I believe it. But I know you don't care, so just leave me alone. Please." I'm out of breath and I look up and stare at him straight in the eye, although my tears blur my vision. "Goodnight, Uchiha."
"Sakura-"
"Goodnight."
-x-
I wake up to the sound of my blaring alarm clock, and like every other day of the week I slam my hand down in it, plunging the room into silence. Mondays are always the worst kind of days, since it feels like I'm emerging from a long hibernation and I haven't quite had enough rest.
My routine is the same, as well: brush my teeth, dress in my hospital uniform, grab some breakfast (or whip something up real fast; depends on what kind of day it is), and go. I'm at the hospital before most people are, before even Tsunade gets there. I take responsibility for my job and I do it well, and I don't need any doubt to cloud my judgment of my capability.
As usual, the busy nurses are hustling around; some of them look beyond tired. Some have been here since the day before, and it's time that they get a break. I walk into my office and grab my lab coat, and stroll into the nurses' station.
"You may take a break now, if you'd like," I say, and my co-workers look at me with relief. "You guys all look crazy tired. I'll take it from here."
Haruka, a sweet lady in her late thirties, looks at me with concerned eyes. "Sakura, you always work too hard. You've only had a couple days off to rest. I'll stay." She's such a kind lady; even though she has heavy dark bags under her eyes and the occasional yawn is escaping her lips, she's more worried for me.
"Haruka, you need to rest. Go home and rest up. Your daughter probably wants to spend some time with her mother, no? Take a week off. I'll be fine, don't worry!" I smile my best smile and she hesitates, before nodding in agreement. I watch as they leave, one by one, the ones that have been working for too long and for too hard. The nurses that have just arrived stay behind, watching me with careful eyes.
"Oh, Sakura, you're too kind," Yumi murmurs, shaking her head. "You always take care of other people. Who takes care of you?"
I open my mouth to reply, but I stop short. Who does take care of me? My parents? No, it's been a while since my mother and father have taken care of me; I grew more independent as I got older. Naruto? Nah, it's more like I take care of him more than anything. Ino? Shikamaru? Kiba?
…I don't really know.
-x-
The sound of light beeping wakes me up. I glance, disoriented, confused where I am. The bright red digits of my clock inform me I'm still in my office and it's around 3 a.m. I'd fallen asleep reading research papers at my desk.
The hospital is dimly lit and I shift, groaning as my back cracked. Something slips off my shoulders and my eyes shoot open.
To my surprise, it's a blanket; a thick, warm blanket that sheltered me from the coolness of the night. Did Yumi or someone catch me sleeping and brought me a blanket to keep me warm? The conversation with Yumi sparks in my mind as I think this- Who takes care of you? - and I smile. She must've been the one to do it.
I get up and stretch, but it's only then I notice my window is opened; barely, but wide enough for me to notice. My eyes trace around the room, and it lands on something that is rested on the leather couch in my office.
It's a bouquet of flowers, adorned with curls of blue ribbon.
They're my favorite flowers, too- lilies. Lilies of every colour and shape, bursting from the plastic wrap in an explosion of colours. I pick up the bouquet, cautious. Who could have left this? There's nothing but a small fancy card, a tiny square with the letter I in handwriting I don't recognize.
-x-
"No, it wasn't me," Yumi says, "and the nurses here were with me all night. None of them did it."
"Then who did?" I ask, more to myself than her.
"Maybe an admirer?" She picks up the fancy square card and inspects it. "I don't know what this means, but you should keep it. Maybe it'll end up in a bigger picture." She hands me the card and stands up, her blond curls bouncing. "I didn't see anyone come in, and we checked security- it's too dark to see anything."
"Check with Ino tomorrow," one of the other nurses, Asami, calls out. "Somebody had to have gone to her floral shop to get those flowers. You'll have your answer then."
Yumi grins. "Yeah! I didn't think of that! She places her hands on my shoulders. "Take the day off tomorrow, okay? No buts," she cuts in when I try to protest. "You work hard enough as is. C'mon, you're seventeen! You're supposed to be living life right now! You've been through a war and whole hella other things and it's time for you to enjoy yourself. Don't waste your childhood right now to be doing something you're going to end up doing when you're in your twenties, sweetie. Take tomorrow off. I don't want to see you here, understand?"
I look at Yumi's smiling face and feel the warmth of her constant support. "Okay," I whisper as I hug her. "Thanks for always watching out for me."
Her arms wrap around me and she says, "Don't worry about it. After all, somebody's gotta do it. I'm just glad there's somebody else out there that's looking out for you too."
And I think about the blanket and the subtle gesture makes my heart swell. Who could it be? What is the purpose of the card?
I need to know.
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To be continued…
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Note: Hollaaaa. been stashing this in my files for a while. thought i'd share; since it seems like the whole sasusaku thing is not turning out too well in the recent chapters. seriously. what the actual fuck, kishi?
tell me what you think!
- A