Hello everyone! I actually used to have an old ff a/c, which I have not used in a while due to a bombardment of cringe attacks, but here's my first (in a while) fanfic.

It was just another town. Coming across countless numbers of villages like these, Sasuke had stopped paying attention to his surroundings. He absently touched the forehead protector he wore on his arm. Ideally, he would have not worn it at all, but, after years of denial and disowning his village, the least he could do is take a little pride in the fact that he represented the leaf.

Besides, it posed another benefit. It indicated to people in need that he was here, if they needed his protection or help. Atoning for his sins had been a tough decision for him to take, but even after spending a month outside the village, travelling, he could see how fulfilling it was.

He swirled the contents of his clay mug, watching the sake circle the brim of the mug. It was a habit he had picked up in his few months of travel, helping him calm down and ponder.

Ponder what, exactly, he didn't know. Some days, he'd sit in a single bar for the whole day, watching but really not observing the people around him. Bars were unruly places, definitely an unconventional choice for some peace and quiet. But drunkards squabbling with each other was the perfect situation for him to merge with the shadows, not be bothered by people and their petty questions.

This was what he'd always wanted, Sasuke thought in satisfaction. To be free, free of revenge, free of bonds, free of any sort of duty. He'd aid Naruto, Kakashi and the other Kage when they needed him, but he'd lived enough of a shinobi's life for the past 18 years.

Through the countless villages he'd journeyed through, this was in the most pitiful condition. Poverty roamed the streets, while death waited for his old friend to give him his next victim. And the children were the worst, their eyes and hearts hollowed by the war.

Sasuke had never been one to sympathise. His own childhood, racked with betrayal and bloodshed, had not given him much scope for that. But even then, the children were the ones who haunted him most. Wordlessly, they made him lose sleep every night. Because he saw himself. In every single one of them.

He closed his eyes in resignation. The war was over, it was a time of peace. They'd learn to live with it soon enough, just like he had.

As he opened them again, he saw a flicker of a silhouette and the sweep of a cloak retreating behind the closed curtains of the storage room of the bar. Sasuke frowned. He could've sworn someone was watching him. Wanting to avoid unnecessary confrontation, he chose to ignore it. Instead, he stood up, and walked up to the counter, paying with his right hand. His only hand.

He had to admit, losing an arm was difficult to get used to. Wearing his cloak, even tying his forehead protector became a challenge. Yet, he'd persevere. This arm was testament to his own foolishness, and he'd suffer for as long as he must, until he was satisfied with his punishment.

As he stepped out of the dimly lit bar into the open, the overcast sky gave him no respite. Humidity clung to him and his clothes stuck to his body. It was an oppressive day, far-cry from the pleasant morning he'd left when he'd stepped inside the bar.

Sasuke walked on, as children pushed past him, waiting to be drenched in the spring shower.

"Did you see it? Quite odd for March, don't you think?" A quivering voice came from the tea shop on his left.

An old woman conversing with another. From his experiences with Neko baa-chan, Sasuke could firmly say he wanted nothing to do with old ladies. Or their gossip.

"A wilting Cherry blossom orchard. Very unusual indeed. This is their blooming season. With all the rain we got last night, they should be in their full glory."

Sasuke kept walking, but his brows furrowed. An entire orchard? That seemed odd. March was their season.

Unconsciously, his mind wandered to Sakura. He wondered how his teammate was doing. Kakashi and Naruto often wrote to him and, although he'd never reply, he did cherish the letters they sent. Sakura never sent him any letters, but Sasuke had always assumed it was because she probably got all the news she needed from the other two.

Occasionally Naruto would mention going for Ramen with Sakura and Sai, or meeting her at the hospital when going for checkups for his prosthetic arm. But as of late, the frequency of the mention of her name had reduced. Sasuke did not know how she was doing.

He suddenly swerved, surprising even himself, and started walking in the other direction. He did not know why, but he needed to see this orchard for himself. Perhaps they were exaggerating?

Sasuke was clueless as to why it bothered him so much. But he felt uneasy. Despite his lack of any romantic feelings towards her, he did care about her well-being. In the months leading up to his departure from Konoha, Sasuke had glimpsed her dedication to her art of healing and curing, and had regained lot of the respect he had for her since that day she cut her own hair short in the Forest of Death while trying to protect him and Naruto.

Sasuke's inner turmoil grew as he saw the orchard. Tens of trees stood lifeless and dull, their limbs and leaves bent in resignation. The buds of the cherry blossoms lay scattered on the ground, unborn, never to bloom again. Sasuke was shocked at the extent of the damage. They didn't seem diseased, or water-deficient. Yet there they were, dying.

His jaw hardened. This was grim indeed. He was not superstitious, and he never had been. But standing there, he solemnly promised to himself that he would ensure his teammate was all right. That his teammate was safe.

He was returning to Konoha.