The first, obviously, had been Sasuke.
It had been Sasuke for a very long time, and even as she grew into a young woman, it was likely that he would always hold a distant but lingering part of her fondness. A childhood turned teenage love turned slightly tragic.
She was sure she had been in love with Sasuke, especially after their years together as Team 7, but before she really knew him, she was drawn in simply for his unearthly beauty. And even now, it was easy for her to observe, clinically, that he was, without a doubt, unearthly beautiful.
His eyes had always been the most striking, black and capable of being completely full or devoid of emotion at the drop of a hat. The dark, jagged bangs and tousled and spiky hair framed perfectly proportioned features; even nose, soft mouth, defined jaw and cheekbones. He ignited a flame in her with a simple glance or proper turn of the head. The aloof, if not cold attitude had only enhanced his presence. He looked like an angel until he began to fight, and then he looked like a god. It was impossible to not experience a coiling nervousness while sitting next to him.
The years had only roughened him into even more of a stunner, and Sakura knew he'd be turning heads for the rest of his life without question. But the years had brought quite a lot of other things as well. He left, and she changed, and after months and years of hoping and wanting and waiting, she forced herself, no, she found herself moving on. It was only a matter of time, she thought. It wasn't sad or painful; her love seemed to fade over time. Sasuke became an unattainable dream that she found didn't have a place in her rapidly evolving life, evolving mind and evolving being, and while Sakura knew she'd always love him, she had no more time to be in love with him.
So she let it happen, and enjoyed her life again. She felt slightly empty, but knew that she was at least living.
And then it was the Hyuga.
What she developed for him wasn't anywhere near as serious as what she had felt for Sasuke, but it was still there. She didn't really expect anything from her "crush" (Sakura wasn't even positive that he was available even though Tenten denied all suspicions regarding their relationship) but it was still nice to know that she was capable of attraction for another, even it was purely superficial. And once again, she was drawn in by a pretty face.
Neji, admittedly, was very much like Sasuke in several ways. They shared the seriousness, the reserved manner of speaking, the prodigious skill and of course, the pretty face.
But Neji was very different in terms of prettiness.
While Sasuke was a handsome devil, Neji was more along the lines of…well…a long haired pretty boy.
His face just screamed feminine, and the fact that he simultaneously appeared so masculine fascinated and aroused her.
His eyes were unsettling and nearly frightening at times, but they were intense, magnetic and enchanting. He had entirely aristocratic features that were subtle and strong, soft and hard, and all around gorgeous. But Sakura's favorite thing about him, above all else, was his hair.
Neji's hair was ridiculously attractive, and everyone knew it too. There was a reoccurring joke within their generation that he was the prettiest member of Team Gai, a joke that the other members of his team readily and amusedly encouraged, much to his annoyance.
Having hair at that length was, or at least should have been, impractical, but not for him. It moved with him and swayed as he delivered lethal blows to enemies and swirled compliantly whenever he blurred into his ultimate defense. It was divine.
She had pulled it aside and slung it over the front of his shoulder like a heavy curtain once when she was healing him after a mission, and swore she had never felt something so smooth and weighted and cool to the touch before. Like thick, layered silk.
He was truly a sight to behold. Even today, she'd be lying to herself if she said otherwise.
But she had broadened her horizons since Neji Hyuga. She still observed his refined beauty, but what was the point of only one fancy when she was trying to get back into the grand "swing of things"?
Sakura let herself feel more and stored her admiration for Neji in her mind's recesses, not for later use, but for remembrance.
Months later, Sabaku no Gaara caught her eye on a mission to the Sand village. It was rare for her to be sent on team-less missions, but she had ventured into wind country by Tsuande's orders, only accompanied by Shikamaru Nara.
It was alright with her. They got along alright, and over the years her relationship with him had even developed past obligatory comrades and into well-oiled friendship. They ventured to Sand with camaraderie that came naturally, not the kind that was applied in situations of required cooperation.
Their mission was all diplomatic; of high significance but low maintenance, and with the ease of her assignment Sakura found herself appreciating the young Kazekage more often than expected of a shinobi that was simply representing Konoha. Sakura welcomed the feeling.
Her gravitation towards Neji had been stimulating, but shallow. She knew he was a knockout, acknowledged that fact, and delved no further.
But Gaara made her want. Again, it was based mainly on appearance, but that didn't mean it didn't shake her to her core whenever his heavy gaze swept over her figure or her hand brushed his when she gave him stacks of reports. She found herself indulging in vivid fantasies of his image, late at night when her hands slipped under the sheets and she found herself biting her lip to keep quiet.
His eyes and his hair were at a tie for the position of her favorite characteristic. She loved the dark rings from his insomnia and she really loved the blood red, un-kept locks of hair that hung just above his forehead. His face was a little unusual to be honest. He had a tapered chin, light green irises that appeared transparent, a thin nose and very high cheekbones. Still quite the looker, without argument, but he was definitely a different breed than Sasuke or Neji. "Boyish" would have been the best term to describe him.
He was unlike the others. He was unlike the Gaara she had first met during the Chunin exams and even unlike the Gaara she knew from their mission to thwart the Akatsuki when they took him captive.
Yes, he was reserved like her previous interests, but it such a different way. He might as well have been considered silent. But when he did speak, it was with meaning, clarity and thought. He wasn't haughty or even distant like most misconstrued him to be. He was very much right there. Aware, even when he was still, silent or concentrated in deep thought.
It wasn't until Shikamaru caught her gazing at him, her expression carefully blank, for the third time in one day that she realized she might actually have a desire for Gaara that went beyond his physical attributes.
So what then?
Was she supposed to "pursue" him? Did she need a code of conduct? It didn't seem appropriate to view the Kazekage as attainable in the first place, let alone go about flirting with or courting him.
And then there was the unavoidable issue of their differing loyalties. Of course, Suna and Konoha had never been on better terms, but who would sacrifice their home for whom? He certainly wasn't going anywhere any time soon, and Sakura accepted that fact without resentment or bitterness. He was Kazekage for crying out loud. What was there to do?
Sakura left Suna with Shikamaru after two weeks, resigning to try and forget her burgeoning feelings towards Gaara. As they parted with their hosts, left the village gates and began the tedious journey through the desert sand, Sakura looked once over her shoulder and saw Gaara still there. He had the small smile that he only sometimes wore, but his eyes were grieving. Sakura realized in that moment that he knew, and he felt it too. He knew that the potential for love had been aborted by poor circumstance and politics, and he was saying that he was sorry. Sakura raised her hand in an empty farewell, met his eyes and wordlessly told him that his recognition was enough in itself to help carry her heavy heart.
She didn't really notice Shikamaru staring somberly at the exchange.
Sakura settled into her career quite nicely in the time following her return. She worked at the hospital for hours on end, spent little time not healing or researching, and frequented missions with Team 7. She laughed with friends and trained tirelessly with Naruto and Sai and spent late nights developing the Nara clan's medicinal samples and strains at the Hokage tower with Shikamaru.
She had finally figured out, or at least had some semblance, of who she was. And that's when someone came to her, curious, and intent on loving her. She was baffled.
Sai had never shown any signs whatsoever of bearing any interest. But who could blame him? He was just now finding himself adjusted to social interaction and conversation, friends, behaviors and norms. Sakura couldn't say she was surprised that he didn't know how to handle a romantic interest.
She was baffled, because she didn't see why he had gone for her. Sakura had self-confidence, and knew that, according to Ino's calculations, roughly three out of five males their age had fantasized about her or considered asking her out before. But Sai just…didn't seem to fit into that demographic. You couldn't group him with males their age. You couldn't group Sai with anyone.
When he came at eleven o'clock one night to the lab where she was working, looking skittish, and asked her if he could speak with her, she became tense and anxious. She glanced to her side and Shikamaru waved his hand dismissively, not looking up from his slides. Sakura shrugged and, did Shikamaru look a little annoyed? followed Sai out of the labs and out of the building, listening to him struggle to explain himself for about ten minutes until he gave up and kissed her right on the lips, making her eyes go wide her knees feel weak.
He stepped back and cautiously observed her, his hands slowly descending from where they had cupped her face to rest at his sides.
Sakura looked at him for a very long time. She looked at the inky black eyes, and his neat black hair with the sharp bangs, and his smooth pale skin drawn over smooth, inoffensive features. He was definitely another pretty boy. And another kind at that. He was like a sketch himself, the contrast of dark and light in him made him appear a drawing taken straight out of one of his own scrolls. Sakura smiled.
She tried to turn him down as gently as possible. It was painful. It was so painful to see his face become hard and downcast, his lips a thin line and his eyes murky and transfixed on the dirt beneath their feet.
Sakura really was sorry. Sorry that she had never wanted him in the way he wanted her, and sorry that she didn't want anything beyond what they were.
He smiled, a real, broken and defeated smile, and said he understood.
Sakura told him to keep his chin up, and to keep an eye out, because he wasn't the only one with a crush. She just smiled and laughed when he looked at her, surprised, and said she couldn't disclose the secret of a friend. Ino didn't need any help anyways.
When Sakura returned to the labs, Shikamaru was still inside working. He didn't look up when she entered and then sat down beside him, silently resuming her own tasks. It was quiet for a few minutes.
"Well, how did that go?"
Sakura instinctively put up her guard when she detected a strange tone in his voice, but answered nonetheless.
"…I think my teamwork might be a little strained for a while."
"Did you let him down easily?"
Sakura set down the test tube in her hand and turned to him, shocked.
"You knew that he…" Sakura shook her head in disbelief and Shikamaru raised an eyebrow. She continued, "I guess they don't pass out genius IQs for just anybody."
Shikamaru let out a single huff of air that represented a short laugh.
"Please." He continued working while he spoke. "It was written all over his face."
"I think you're leaving a whole lot out of this equation." Sakura was still turned towards him, her chin now resting in her palm. She observed him meticulously sorting slides, classifying herbs.
"Maybe. But there really isn't anything like a man's face right before he enters the heart of the lion's den."
"I think you just compared me to a lion."
"What's wrong with lions?" Shikamaru turned his head then, for the first time since she had returned, softly smirking.
Sakura's breath stilled and her heart thudded loud in her ears.
What was that look?
"Nothing's…wrong with lions." Her voice sounded a million miles away.
Shikamaru had resumed working. She quickly took advantage of the opportunity and drank in his profile. She had been spending loads of time with him lately, but never really looked at him. Not like she had looked at Sai just moments before, or Gaara those months ago, or Neji or Sasuke.
So she looked at him now. She studied, nearly investigated, his face.
Shikamaru Nara was not like the pretty boys.
He had a zigzagging hairline and slight widow's peak. A spiky ponytail made up of coarse black hair. His studded ears sat above a jaw, was that stubble? that was angular and solid. His cheeks were lacking in any kind of fullness; olive skin over a structure that hollowed out when he spoke and gave a stark definition to his face. From the side, his nose was a straight slope that ended over his almost, but not quite, thin lips. He had dark lashes that were not too long, dark pencil thin eyebrows and dark eyes. There were faint lines and shadows, evidence of sleepless nights, underneath them.
Shikamaru Nara was rugged.
He was dark, but not dark like Sasuke. He sure as hell didn't have Neji's effeminate beauty or Gaara's unorthodox features, and he wasn't the novelty of Sai.
He was completely, utterly, entirely, natural.
He owned the space he occupied, and demanded attention with his carefully chosen words, and was completely in control. He expelled no extra energy because he knew exactly what he was doing and how he was going to get there. He didn't play games and didn't need too. He was so unexpectedly dominating. And in his presence alone.
And he was undeniably, ruggedly handsome. Sakura's heart was racing.
He looked up at her, slowly and deliberately. He had known that she was staring at him. He didn't say anything because he knew she was going to provide an explanation.
"Shikamaru…" His face remained impassive and those dark eyes were every bit inscrutable. "You're very…real."
The comment didn't seem to surprise him because his expression hardly changed. There was only the hardening of the eyes and an almost undetectable quirk at the corner of his mouth.
"So are you." His voice was just as effortless as the rest of him. He was also nearly smirking now, and hadn't broken their eye contact.
Sticking to her nerve, Sakura went out on a limb and continued.
"It's very appealing."
That at least earned her a raised eyebrow and slightly widened eyes. Of course, she remembered compliments had always seemed to catch him off guard. The expression ebbed after a moment.
"Does this mean," He leaned forward, elbows propped on top of his knees, eyes glinting, "That you're finally over pretty boys?"
Sakura's face turned incredulous and amused simultaneously. God, this boy was entirely dangerous when he wanted to be.
"You're way too perceptive for your own good, Shikamaru." She managed to not sound too exasperated even if she was amazed at his limitless skill in deduction.
"Maybe I'm just the right amount of perceptive, and for the good of both of us." It was like when he spoke he pulled the language apart with algorithms and combined his words to create both exactly what you needed to hear and exactly what he needed to say.
"How long since you noticed?" Sakura watched him watching her with his hooded eyes.
"At least since Neji, and I'm guessing Sasuke was the last before him."
"You're correct, of course." Sakura sighed and smiled. "I can't believe I never…saw you. You've always been there, haven't you. And why did you never speak up?"
"Well how was I supposed to live up to your long line of ridiculously powerful and attractive love interests? I get worn out just thinking about it."
It was amazing to think how a few exchanged sentences had gotten them this far already, so aware of the other's feelings so soon. As stated before, no games.
"Don't worry, you really throw off the scale entirely."
Shikamaru sat up and leaned back in his chair upon hearing her statement. "I have absolutely no idea why." His voice was low and honest.
Sakura eyed his figure appreciatively, a gesture she was sure he picked up on.
She thought about her past phases of men, and how none of them could truly live up to this man's allure. His maturity, his competence and the infinite fortress that was his mind. And his rugged, handsome, downright sexy face.
Sakura smirked herself and mimicked his posture from before, leaning over her knees with a practiced gaze.
"Do you want to find out?"
