Date: 29/06/12

Pairing: SasuSaku

Genre: General/Angst/Romance

Status: Incomplete

Author's Note: Just an idea. Criticisms are gladly appreciated.


She clenched her fists.

She clenched her fists for as she stared ahead, smoldering onyx orbs stared right back at her. The same onyx orbs she remembered so well — the same onyx orbs that have been haunting her dreams from time to time. It was so unexpected — his arrival, she didn't really thought that he would actually come back to her village. To her home — to their home.

She didn't know what to feel. She was torn between surreal and strange — as weird it may seem, maybe what she was feeling now was the combination between those two. Maybe it was because she has yet to absorb all of this into her brain. Maybe it was because she has yet to accept his presence — the fact that he was standing there, approximately two meters away from her — not really saying anything — but there, with her, in this village.

"Sakura."

The rosette blatantly flinched at his husky voice.

His voice had matured since the last time she had heard his voice — four years, fifteen days, five hours — it has the same huskiness to it, she admits – though, it was colder, older and hollower. The same voice that too, haunted in her dreams from time to time — she remembered it clearly, the incident that happened to her four years, fifteen days, five hours ago — a simple 'thank you' before he knocked her out.

Her vision was blurry then, but she remembered everything clearly — her vision was blurry, yes — still, she remembered his retreating back.

She dug her nails into her skin. The liquid oozing out from her skin signified her that she was bleeding but she didn't care for now — she couldn't care if she wanted to, because right now, the most important thing was he was standing there – approximately two meters away from her, staring — for once, she remembered the heated glares when they were innocent and young, still naive about every single thing — but right now, he was just staring and —

She blinked.

It took her a moment to realize that —

He had called her name.

.

.

.

(('Sakura, thank you.'))

.

.

.

When she stayed silent, he tried again.

"Sakura..."

It was the same — she realized, it was the same emotion he had displayed when he had called her name, like he how used to — four years, fifteen days, five hours ago — and she was afraid.

She was very much afraid.