It bothers him, only slightly because he is never one to dwell on things other than his twisted past, that she has yet to drop dead or run away. He is absolutely certain that he is no longer, whether consciously or subconsciously, holding back anything from her and yet she is more than alive and well.
He had thought that only Naruto would be able to last this long against him. After all, they were rivals destined to die at each other's hands, were they not?
Itachi had said that.
And because those were a dying man's words, more than because they were Itachi's, he had accepted them as truths, which ultimately the cosmos will bring to pass.
He looks to the side and wonders why Naruto is propped up on a tree and is watching him pensively like he knows exactly what is about to happen. Surely, that little hole in his stomach is nothing to Konoha's most hardheaded idiot and container of Kyuubi, is it?
"He's not in the best of shapes, so you'll have to forgive him his absence in this little dance, Sasuke-kun."
He shifts his attention back to her and her very sarcastic words. Vaguely, he knows she has never been that type of girl who would provoke fights or wounded feelings, but again, that is something far beneath his primary concerns and so, is left to fleeting guesses. What he is certain of, for now, is that she is not a threat to his existence.
It's just not the way things worked.
"That girl is weak and worthless. You have at least one less person to worry about in terms of your prolonged survival, otouto."
Itachi had said that too, although he hadn't exactly been dying at that moment.
But he had known it as fact for so long now that he no longer questioned it, Itachi or no Itachi. Everyone knew that the pink-haired girl would sooner destroy Konoha than lay a finger on him—not that she could do any of the two in actual life—but he supposes someone had forgotten to remind her of that.
She is facing him squarely, one hand on a slightly jutted hip as if she were so bored she could kill herself, the other hand raised in front and crackling every-so-often with barely contained chakra.
He knows that it is quite an impossible scenario.
But he also knows that he is fully awake, conscious, and genjutsu-free.
He isn't too sure if he should be happy about that particular fact or not.
"It's been rebelling against the seal, as of late and so healing takes far longer than usual," she says almost too amicably that he forgets for a moment why they were where they were. 'It', of course, was the demon fox inside Naruto.
So that's what was happening. "Aa," he replies dumbly because he doesn't really know what else to say. He would've glared at her like he normally did but somehow; he knew it wouldn't get the same effect it did thirteen years ago and so thought better of it.
"You're not glaring at me for speaking out of place," she says, half-questioning, half-mocking, and maybe something else in between. He doesn't exactly know how to read her as he had never seen her in such a mood before but he thinks pretending not to notice her would be a good bet. Maybe she would finally fly off the handle and he could finally get into her defenses. As much as he hates to admit it, he knows he needs her to make a mistake before he can finish the fight.
She gives off a huge sigh as if she were exhausted. He smirks inside but has enough decency, or love of his cool and unaffected persona—whichever comes first—to not let it show on the surface. She reads him easily nonetheless and gives out a horrific giggle the likes of which he has never heard of since he left Konoha and his brain-dead fan-girls. It is all he can do to stop himself from gawking.
"You're still the old Sasuke-kun I know, despite how ugly you look now!" she laughs. It doesn't take a genius to figure out that she isn't gaga over him anymore.
Perhaps it is time to rethink some of those truths—especially ones concerning her.
"Let's not dawdle, Sasuke-kun," she tells him sweetly like she isn't harboring thoughts of bloody murder. He thinks she has become insane because he remembers her to be a very emotional, somewhat clingy and oftentimes useless girl, and nothing short of insanity could turn her into the confident and cocky girl easily mocking him now.
And to think he had thought she was the sane one in their rag-tag team.
"As a medical-nin, Sasuke-kun, I'd probably tell you to give up while you're ahead. Severed muscles in both thighs, left arm, and right shoulder, fractures in both legs, broken fingers, dislocated joints, perhaps some internal bleeding if my last shot went where I wanted it to, and of course, let's not forget those monstrosities you call wings." She eyes him seriously for once since their 'little' battle began and something slightly similar to fear begins to creep up in his stomach. He hopes it is mere indigestion but then again, he isn't Naruto.
"I doubt you'd be able to fly, or move for that matter, anymore," she says threateningly, and then almost instantaneously, she smiles like she had just said a funny joke. "If I had known that this was what would get you to stay put, I would've done this when you were still younger!" she laughs.
He knows it is an empty threat because she was never even close to his level when they were younger, but he finds it oddly disturbing that she is joking about maiming him at this point in time.
Perhaps it is because he knows it isn't too impossible for her now.
He feels like calling for a timeout and whining about unfairness. It isn't right that she should get to him when it was obviously not predestined. Itachi had said so himself, and although the man was a psychopath, he was damn good at reading people and their destinies. Besides that, he feels it is absolutely absurd that someone—no, scratch that—that a girl could so much as wound him, let alone kill him. She has pink hair, for god's sake! And she's all pale and fragile-looking! It wasn't meant to be!
"What are you thinking now, Sasuke-kun?" She takes a step forward and smiles, that one hand still raised and glowing.
He raises a brow because he could've sworn that just a minute ago; she had been consistently reading his mind. There is some justice to this world after all, he thinks, but doesn't deign to tell her.
"You cannot kill me, Sakura," he says monotonously, although with more conviction than he had ever put into a group of words before. He adds a gloating smirk for good measure because he knows he's right.
It was the way of the cosmos, the order of things; fish swam, birds flew, Naruto is an idiot, Sakura is useless, and Sasuke is always, always, right!
She smiles good-naturedly at him. "It is no longer a question of whether I can or cannot kill you. I think that has already been established. It is more along the lines of whether I should or shouldn't. Morals, after all, are still quite important to me."
She takes another step forward. It takes all his willpower and over bloated ego to stop himself from moving back.
"Same thing," he mutters a little too weakly to be called as a bluff.
She cocks an eyebrow at him as if to say, 'Pray tell, please continue!' and he thinks it is now or never to explain to her the rules of the universe.
He decides to cut her some slack—because she used to be a comrade, after all—and show her the error of her ways. "It's not meant to be," he tells her as if he were telling an extremely incompetent child that 'No, it doesn't snow in summer.' "By whatever reason, mostly due to the fact that you are the same Sakura who had been in love with me since we were children, the same Sakura who had been a burden and a weakling, the very same one who cries when others are hurt, you do not have the ability to kill me."
He looks at her, almost expecting her calm façade to collapse into one of despair and weakness, but he isn't all too surprised either when she cracks a smile and nods in agreement.
"I suppose you're right. After all, no matter how much I train, I am still the weak little lovesick girl you left all those years ago. Truly, I still don't appreciate fighting the way you and Naruto do, and I really don't like the smell of blood at all. Admittedly, I came here today in hopes that we would be able to bring you back safe and sound to the village where the four of us, including Kakashi-sempai, will be able to kiss and make up, figuratively of course." She pauses and gives him a look he interprets as longing. She sighs and runs her other hand through her girly pink locks. He laughs manically in his head and swears that he never did once doubt that he would be the winner. Of course, he would be. It was Sakura he was talking about here! Predictable and lovesick Sakura who will just never learn that he is far too good for her.
"I loved you, Sasuke-kun. I really did, and still do to some extent. It was hard for me to fight you, how ever way you want to interpret it, but there are some things that must and mustn't be done."
He raises his brow this time and although it is an extremely painful movement, crosses both arms over his chest without so much as a wince.
She takes the last few steps and closes the distance between them. She looks up to him and his monstrous build and he towers over her like some demon about to devour a child. Never mind that he is battered and bruised and most likely will never be able to fully heal because of her and that her hand is still glowing dangerously and is hovering a few centimeters from his side. He knows the cosmos and the powers that be will not allow this inexplicable glitch in the way things are to come to pass.
"Sasuke-kun," she whispers solemnly as if his name were a prayer, "it's over."
"Hn!" he snorts in affirmation, as close a he will ever get to "Well, duh! What the fuck did you expect?" But of course, he is far too cool to say that aloud.
And then, in some weird, inexplicable, and wholly impossible moment, he feels a terrible pain tearing through his midsection like he were nothing more than a fish being gutted. He gasps, without his ego's permission, and stares wide-eyed at the fragile little pink-haired girl whose glowing hand is now wrist-deep inside his belly.
She is bloody and dirty. She is screaming bloody murder. She is killing him and he still does not understand that it is even a possible scenario.
"Wh-t the f-ck?"
"Beware a woman scorned, Sasuke-kun," she tells him sincerely, her face a breath away from his, her hand burrowing deeper into his intestines, "but fear most a woman in love."
"Wha-ahhrg….you talk-n ab…?"
She pushes her hand deeper, no longer bothering with chakra and merely going with brute force. He lurches forward and she holds him steadily with her other arm, her legs slightly buckling at their combined weight but soon straightening out. "It's is your misfortune that I am both," she whispers into his ear. She presses her lips to his rubber-like skin and murmurs to him her final confession.
"I would've forgiven you anything, Sasuke-kun, even your betrayal."
She sighs and brings his face towards hers with her hand. He is still weak and disoriented and could not, for the life of him, resist her firm grip on his cheek. He opts to glare at her with all that is left of his pride as The Uchiha, Sasuke.
She stops short of kissing him but he feels her breath on his lips as if she were feeding him oxygen. He is too out of breath to stop himself from accepting.
Her eyes are hard and somewhat vengeful. When she does speak, after an eternity of baited silence compressed into a few seconds, her voice is thick and promises him pain and retribution.
"You", she hisses, her every word laced with deadly venom, "Sasuke-kun, shouldn't have hurt my husband!"
His eyes widen despite the fact that he has barely enough breath to keep awake. He wracks his brain for any familiar shinobi that he had recently hurt, tortured, maimed or killed but all he really remembers is punching a chidori through Naruto's gut. Every other shinobi was just a fly in his way. He has no idea which one she is talking about!
"Sakura-chan!"
And then it hits him!
He turns his head so slowly it feels like it might fall off if he went any faster, and his eyes transfer from pink to yellow. "You?" he gasps incredulously.
Naruto is up and about, albeit limping and very much bloody and sore, looking up at his two teammates in an almost pleading manner.
"Naruto-kun," she says, her voice meek but clear, "please stay where you are. There's nothing else you can do. I'm going to finish what I've started."
"Sakura-chan…"
"Sasuke-kun," she whispers, and he is forced yet again to face her hard eyes by her firm grip on his chin, "you of all people should know that I am very protective of my loved ones. I don't care what you do to me but I am very vindictive when it's my family you are messing with!"
"How…"
She smiles for one last time and it seems genuinely friendly this time. For a moment, he thinks everything has gone right again and he will walk away from this bloody and wounded but still alive. And then he feels her hand heating inside him and he knows that the order of the cosmos has been damaged irreparably. He was going to die—is dying at this very moment—because of a useless girl who had once promised him everything if he would only accept. He is dying because he had hurt the dead-last, whom, he remembers clearly she used to hurt whenever the blonde would badmouth or bicker with him.
It is completely against what Itachi had said, although perhaps he shouldn't be complaining about that since it wasn't every time that his brother was wrong.
The bastard even knew the exact moment he would die and had beaten him to the punch, so to speak. It was deplorable that he had been cheated out of his retribution but it seems he won't be able to cheat Sakura out of hers.
Clingy, useless, weak, little Sakura is killing her precious, strong, almighty, and prodigious Sasuke-kun. The innocent victim has become the avenger and the once self-proclaimed avenger has become a not-so-innocent victim.
He coughs out blood and is vaguely surprised at why he is lying on his back and everything has become blurry and monochromatic. Still, her pink hair stands out in his field of vision and he figures he might as well demand of her why, and more importantly how she had damaged the beautiful balance of the way things are so easily.
He thinks it will give him something to say when he faces his brother and Itachi asks why exactly he was beaten by The Sakura, Haruno.
"How…" he manages again, although everything in his vision has now melded together into a seemingly solid blob of white. He cannot see her but he can feel her presence looming above him, as if waiting for his soul to finally leave his body. She always liked to be sure of things. At least that one thing has yet to change.
He hears her inhale sharply. The white has now dimmed to black and he feels himself sinking slowly into some indescribable and undetermined depths. Despite the solid silence plugging his ears, he manages to catch her answer.
"Irony."