Summary: She had two memories of him; the first when they played tag. The second, their short-lived engagement. Even years can't separate true love. SasuSaku. AU.
Very important author's note: This was inspired by something that happened to me when I was seven years old. The prologue is mostly what I was thinking (and writing on my journal) one day. I decided to turn it into a story afterwards. So the fiction really begins in part i.
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto, Stars, or Muse. I just have these thoughts.
Warning: Slightly OCC, but you have to understand what these kids have gone through and what they're feeling right now.
unintended
Prologue
In matters of the heart, she often thinks of Sasuke (or Sasuke-kun, as she used to call him) her first … she can't even call him love since they were kids and never said I love yous, probably didn't even know what love meant, not then. She fails to name it other than acknowledge him as her first fiancé – and only one so far, maybe the only one. Even if they were children, she believes it was a true courtship, or as true as they would come. He liked her, she liked him and they were not looking for anything more than holding hands, maybe a kiss. It was the purest form of love from a pair of seven year olds. She wonders if he even remembers her, she hates to admit it, but it would probably break her heart if he didn't. After all, Sasuke represents everything she isn't: pure, innocent, brave, and more. At nineteen, she already gave up on hope and dreams.
Sakura has yet to love or like anyone the way she remembers liking Sasuke, even if she only remembers two memories of him.
The first, when they were playing catch in school with other friends, she got caught. Although she squirmed and protested in his arms, she couldn't help the smile that came to her face when she saw Sasuke pulling her somewhere – she didn't care where back then. As sudden as he had grabbed her arm, he let go and she found herself in the boy's bathroom, the lousy blonde from her class, ready to use the utilities. She shrieked and ran as fast as her little legs could carry her. Her friends had comforter her, but she just remembers getting a note with firm lettering saying sorry. The second, their engagement.
Although it lasted for one weekend – a whole weekend, from Friday to Monday Morning – she loved every minute of it. He had shyly but surely given her a ring (it had passed by various hands first, through all their friends, but its destination was sure, it was meant for her). It had a beautiful diamond cut that'd come with a note – For you – but to her it meant always. She covered her mouth to stop from gasping out loud and grabbing their teacher's attention, her long hair often worked like wavelength detectors. Her girl friends had immediately gushed and ushered towards her, demanding she give it back, it did not belong to her, that she couldn't be with a boy because they were disgusting. All the time though, she kept smiling at his eyes and raven hair. That's where her memory stops. Her mom used to tell her how she gave the ring back the following Monday before school started, Sasuke was with his mom and both parents had laughed at their little antics. Now, she wishes she wouldn't have given back the ring, that she had kept it as the only real, solid memory she had of him. But it had belonged to Sasuke's mom; there never had been an option.
She often tries to imagine what kind of life he lives. Did he stop his studies, become a rebel, living off the streets or does he follow the dreams he used to have? Did he share his life with someone right now? Sakura can be anything but a fool, loving Sasuke right now would be childish and just insane. Who could continue love after twelve years? Besides, she only always liked him, in the past. In the present, she knows she holds a tender spot in her heart for him because, well, you could say he had been her first someone important other than her family.
Now, don't go calling her naïve for still thinking that she could see him one more time. Life has its own surprises. And no one ever knows, especially when she's been living for a year in the town she left many years ago.
i. the beginning after the end
O, the blood and the treasure, and then losing it all. The time that we wasted, and the place where we fall. Will we wake in the morning and know what it was all for? Up in our bedroom after the war.
Sakura goes to the bookstore at the edge of town every day before work. She loves it here, the bookshelves touch the roof and no corner ever escapes the clutches of bind pages. With three floors of musky book aroma and car fur on its sofas, The Bookstore Ally holds the title of being her second home.
She always goes to the third floor – where the poetry section hides behind shelves upon shelves of Essays and Politics and Government. Sakura thinks the owner purposely made it that way in order to give more peace and quiet to the few readers on the floor. Once she seats between nooks of books in front of the poetry section, she takes out her own textbooks and munching on a green apple begins to read about hearts. Irony, she thinks, works best with loneliness.
Here, she forgets the time, only knows when Mr. Cups, the owner's stray cat, gets off its high spot (a pile of books on the floor), purrs at Sakura and jumps down the stairs to get its food. It's 3 o'clock, it reminds her.
It should have been another day in the life of Haruno Sakura, but when Mr. Cups got down to purr himself against Sakura, he hissed instead at what looked to be an intruder. No one should be allowed here, it seemed to hiss and Sakura reluctantly agreed. Somehow, they both saw the third floor as their sanctuary and someone had entered to disturb their silence.
Mr Cups hissed again, Get out. But the intruder only grinned down at them and after a long pause turned to the Politics and Government section. "It's okay Mr Cups," murmured Sakura, still entranced by the look the newcomer had given them. She had seen those dark eyes before.
ii. your ex lover is dead
God, that was strange to see you again; introduced by a friend of a friend. Smiled and said, "Yes, I think we've met before." In that instant, it started to pour.
"Good morning Sakura-chan," greeted Keiko, a middle aged woman whose dark hair had never been longer than her shoulders – Cups liked to play with long hair. "A new order is coming Saturday; do you think you would be able to help me with it? I'll pay you, of course."
Sakura smiled and agreed to come early morning. She walked up to the third floor to her secret spot only to find someone there. She tried to hide the blush that seemed to appear on her cheeks. "You're nineteen," she kept whispering to herself as she sat on her usual spot, at least this newcomer had given her that right. Ignoring him completely, she went back to her book. This time she had to memorize the parts of the brain.
Once again, time was irrelevant as she plunged herself into endless tomes of medicine. She hadn't noticed when the stranger had changed his position and started to observe every detail of her. Then, she heard Mr. Cups purr, but it wasn't at her, he wasn't even closed to her! Reluctantly, she looked up to see Mr. Cups in the arms of the stranger. Traitor, she seemed to hiss at him. What surprised her more though, was the fact that this man still stared at her. "What?!" She finally snapped.
"Have we met before?"
A negative response would be a lie, something inside of her screamed. "You look familiar, but I can't remember. Maybe we've just seen each other in school."
"No. I would've noticed you."
At 3 o'clock, she moved on with her usual schedule.
-+-+-
"Morning, Keiko-san. I'm ready!"
"Tch. Don't be so loud."
Sakura looked around to see a box speaking to her. "Eh? Keiko-san, do boxes speak now? It's freaking me out…"
Said box lowered itself to reveal a raven haired boy, the same boy from the third floor. He answered her question, rudely, she might point out. "Hn. Annoying."
"What are you doing here?" She turned the conversation back to him. "Are you stalking me? You're one of those pervs they warn people on TV! I have to tell Keiko-san to kick you out or maybe call the police – "
"Shut up, it's too early for your blabbering. No, I am not stalking you nor am I a perv. She asked me to help with the heavy load."
"Oh."
"Hn."
Silence engulfed both of them. "Can you move?"
Sakura need not be told twice, his question sounded more like a demand than anything. She hurried to the back of the shop where she found the quiet owner with her cat eating pastries. "Ah, Sakura-chan, you're here bright an early! Thank you for coming. Cake?"
"No, thanks," Sakura refused lightly. "But why did you get that guy to help out today? It's always been just me."
"Oh! Well, I know how you don't like to carry heavy boxes, so I asked him if he wanted a small job. He's often come here before, but never had gone up there for a long time. He was there all day, thinking about something, he said – poor boy, maybe problems at home. Poetry does help the soul, eh, Sakura-chan, you would know – so I asked him if he could help out and he agreed; isn't it great, Sakura-chan?"
"Great," she mumbled.
-+-+-
Once the books entered the system, Sakura and the boy started to put the books away. For the first time in years, she cursed at the fact that the shelves were so close together already having forgotten the number of times that she and the new guy had brushed each other. She contemplated telling Keiko-san that she had to depart, make an excuse or something, just as long as she would not go through the same shivers this new guy gave her.
"My parents were murdered when I was seven."
She whirled around to see him speaking to her. "Why—"
"I needed to say it – haven't you ever felt that way?"
She shook her head, shocked by the news he'd given her.
"I needed to … I don't know – " he stopped and moved to the end of the shelf to continue his work.
She didn't make a comment but continued watching him for the rest of the day. He intrigued her, especially when she remembered that Keiko had told her something, assuming he had a family, but now, she knows he doesn't, at least not a nuclear. Maybe he had brothers, but that wasn't the point. He'd told her something he probably wouldn't tell a strange. She couldn't help but feel as if they had a link, pulling each other closer together. For some reason, she thought of Sasuke and what it would be like to meet him again, to see him again… but she didn't even know his last name.
They continued doing their work until lunch, when both were ushered into Keiko's kitchen, greeted by a feast.
"Keiko-san, you shouldn't have done so much," Sakura said, reluctantly taking a seat next to the boy; it was the only one left.
"She's right," the boy next to her second.
"Ah-ah, Uchiha-san, but I made your favorite: tomatoes! So tuck in, everyone, c'mon."
Keiko noticed the silence on the table and not being one to like silence (even though she owns a bookstore and it mostly required silence) started up a conversation. " Sakura-chan used to live here," she started, "she and her family moved a long time ago though, just came back two years ago, isn't that right, Sakura?"
She nodded; intrigued by the piece of rice she had on her chopsticks.
"Sasuke's come to this bookstore since he was a little kid, you stopped for a while though and now rarely come. You should come more often," Keiko patted the boy's resting hand.
"Sasuke?" Sakura gasped, not knowing she had dropped her utensils. "Did you say Sasuke?"
Instead of waiting for Keiko to answer the boy briskly said, "That is my name, after all, Sa-ku-ra."
She knows it was the way he had said her name that shook her to the core. Sasuke. It was him. It had to be him. Black eyes, the way his eyes had felt on her when they were working and before that the other day when she was reading. It had to be him. Those eyes. His dark eyes.
Sasuke.
Sasuke.
"Sasuke-kun…"
She didn't know what to do then. All this time, she had hoped to see him one more time and here he was, finally beside her. Alarms kept ringing in her brain so she did the only thing she could.
She ran.
iii. better be heaven
Just give it one more chance. It's all about the trust.
She stopped going to The Bookstore Alley for two weeks, on the third, she couldn't help the need for the aroma of books or Mr Cups. Sakura forced herself to not skip her trip to the bookstore, she was no coward. But she didn't see him sitting under the poetry section as he had last time, nor under Politics, not in Sports or Science. He wasn't there. She sat back on her usual spot and began to read. Or tried.
Only once had he sat on that spot, but she could still feel his eyes on her, blood pulsating everywhere and without realizing it, she ached for his presence. If it was, indeed, the Sasuke she left many years ago, this was her chance to finally come to terms with her heart. She could find the peace she's been searching for in just the fact that she would see what happened to him after she left. Although she knew about the tragedy, she wanted to see if he had followed his dreams as she daydreamed, if he was a hard worker and if there was someone for him now.
It wasn't love, she told herself time and time again. It couldn't be. They were seven, for goodness' sake, seven and not in love, just in like. They just liked each other; his smile, his eyes, and the way he held her in his arms…
It couldn't be love. Seven year olds never fell in love. Besides, that was a long time ago… they were older now. Older and wiser.
"We need to talk."
Startled, she looked up to see him leaning against the poetry section, her section. "I can't right now, sorry," she stood, gathering her unopened books. How long had she been there? How long had he? "I need to get to work."
"We need to talk." His urgency made her step back. Calmly, she raised her head, eyes meeting his. Big mistake. "Why did you run? Who am I to you?"
"No one." He was no one. They'd only met twice, were not even acquaintances – were nothing. No one.
"You know me." He advanced towards her, a prey by the way his eyes stared intently into hers; looking for answers she didn't know.
"We – you used to be someone to me, in the past. We used to," be engaged, she wanted to say but what would a stranger (because that's what he was now) say to that? Besides, the little engagement had meant nothing but child's play. "We used to go to school together."
"But you told me you didn't know me, that day, here, you told me you didn't know me." If he was accusing her of lying, she couldn't say anything. It was a lie, but not at the time.
"I didn't know you," she stopped herself from screaming. "I mean, that day, I didn't remember knowing you until two weeks ago when we were helping Keiko-san. When she said your name, I remembered."
"Just my name. How?"
"I don't know! Just please, leave me alone, it was a long time ago. We were seven. We didn't know…"
Then, Sasuke thought there was more to this girl that she was letting on, there was more to them, to who they had been, who he had been. She was hiding something. Frustrated, he pulled his hair, kneading on his scalp as determination kept growing. He sighed, "I can't."
She looked up at him questioningly.
"Before my parents' death, there's nothing. I can't remember anything but a girl, someone that looks just like you. When I don't dream about the massacre, I keep dream of a little pink-haired girl with green eyes, I dream of you and a crumpled paper in my hands. I wake up and it's the scariest thing, needing someone you don't even fucking know. I wake up trembling because – because I just want to give you a paper, a fucking paper, but I never manage to. I never do."
His confession made her tremble and before she knew it, she had spoken up. "You did."
"What?"
It was time to come clean. "Twelve years ago, you gave me that paper, all crumbled up with your perfect handwriting," she smiled as she reminiscent. She licked her lips, "the note went through half the classroom before it got to me."
"What else did I give you?"
"How did you –"
"I wouldn't just send a note. What did I give you?" he repeated.
"A ring."
"A ring?"
She blushed and murmured softly, enough for him to hear. "Your mom's ring. You wanted to marry me. We were only seven," she said as if repeating that would excuse them from being naïve and childish, excuse them from ever having a dream.
She didn't want to look at Sasuke's face when he asked her if she was lying. Sakura just shook her head no. His next question surprised her though.
"Why did you leave – ?" At his pause, both could hear the silent me in the question.
"My father found a better job, I never wanted to; I loved it here." I had you here.
"Why did you come back?" He looked away, not seeing the way Sakura's hand had attempted to brush away his bangs out of his eyes. Immediately, she withdrew like a scared kitten.
"In all honesty," she began. She missed the way Sasuke looked at her intently, yearning for some form of touch, existence, anything to know she was real. "Something kept pulling me here, my job, education, family… my soul needed to come back," she half-whispered the last part.
Both stood there for hours, leaning against the shelves. When their legs tired out, they succumbed to the floor where piles of books supported their bodies as a resting place. At three o'clock, Mr. Cups didn't get off its high place; instead, opted for observing the two individuals sitting across from one another, staring intently at each other when the other wasn't looking. But both knew what they were doing. At 3:09 when they heard someone coming up the stairs, Sasuke reacted. "I want to see you again."
Caught off guard, Sakura didn't say anything but continued to listen to him.
"I – I need to see you again. It's that feeling; it never leaves me when I'm around you. Like I need to be close to you or see you. Let me see you again. Let me remember what I had before."
"But I don't remember anything. I just remember that and playing tag. They're just two memories. I couldn't help you remember anything."
"Then let me get to know you. Please." He never pleaded, Sakura could tell. Even when they were seven, from all that she remembers, he never pleaded; he always took, just like he had taken her when they were playing tag. Just liked he had taken her.
"Okay."
"Promise?"
"I do."
"We're not there yet, Sakura," he teased.
Realizing what she had said, she blushed, "You know what I meant, Sasuke-kun."
"Aa."
Keiko found them sitting across each other in the poetry section; Sasuke, reading The Prince by Machiavelli and Sakura with a textbook on human senses. The retired school teacher smiled to herself, observing the glances they kept giving each other, just like they'd done twelve years ago. Not wanting to intrude any longer, she took Mr. Cups for his much needed meal, satisfied that she had reunited them at last.
iv. unintended
You could be my unintended choice to live my life extended.
Two years later, Sasuke gave Sakura a little black box, inside it held a promise: For you.
And the ring she left behind fourteen years ago.
"Always."
So that's it. Review please. I love reviews!
The Beginning After the End, Your Ex-Lover Is Dead, Better be Heaven belongs to Stars. Unintended belongs to Muse.