A/N: Hi guys, finally the sequel to Lost at Sea is up! I'm sorry it's taken so long to post this – I have had some things in life I needed to sort out and needed a break. But I hope you enjoy this one. For those of you who haven't read Lost at Sea, this will contain lots of spoilers, but is completely fine to read on its own. Please read and review! Much love, xoxo
Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto
…
Another lifetime.
Another place.
…
"Sakura, you're suspended."
"How…how long?" Sakura inhales a deep breath, shoulders slumping in defeat. She didn't think that she'd be granted leniency, regardless of her relationship with Tsunade or the outcome of the surgery, but it doesn't lessen the crushing disappointment.
"Three months."
"Tsunade, you can't – "
"Yamanaka, that's enough."
"No! The surgery went well! He's going to have a full recovery. How can you punish the doctor that saved his life?"
Tsunade rubs her temples, knowing that Ino is right. She can't ignore the fact that Sakura had performed a surgery that has only been done twice before, and performed it to perfection. Their patient was going to recover with no difficulties, and Tsunade is proud of Sakura and what she achieved. But what she cannot ignore is that Sakura performed the surgery on a patient who wasn't able to give consent, nor did she take the necessary measures to locate his family. She also cannot ignore the fact that no matter how brilliant Sakura is, she is only halfway through her second year of residency, and she performed the surgery without her attending physician, or the fact that she had gotten Ino, a first year resident, to assist her. It also doesn't help Sakura's case that their patient is the son of a business tycoon, and the threat to sue looms over her head.
"Ino, please."
Sakura's voice is quiet but strong, but both Ino and Tsunade can hear the warble in it. The hospital has become Sakura's life, and they can only sympathise with how she must feel.
"Sakura, I'm sorry. You know I wouldn't do this if I had a choice."
"I know, Tsunade-sama."
"Orochimaru will be coming after you, but I'll do my best to defend you at the board meeting."
…
Sakura blinks back tears of frustration as she stares out into the sparkling prism of reds and oranges and pinks. On any other day, she will marvel at the breath-taking display of radiant colours melting together in such a way that makes it impossible to tell where the sea ends and where the sky starts. Sakura has always had an undeniable affinity to the ocean – it has always been her happy place. But as beautiful as the sunrise is and as much as she loves the briny air and the cool breeze that tickles her skin and the gentle lapping of waves against the shore, she cannot find it in herself to appreciate it today. She closes her eyes and exhales a shaky breath.
Three months.
Shaking her head, she takes a deep breath and continues her run along the shore, gradually picking up her pace until she can only focus on the fire burning in her lungs and the protest in her legs. Running is cathartic. There is something about it that clears her mind, helps her focus. She finally slows to a slow jog when she reaches a sparkling array of wet pebbles that line the shore. Panting, Sakura reaches down to pick one up, running her fingers over its smooth surface. And then something else glints in the light of the rising sun, and she drops the pebble in favour of her curiosity. Sakura claws at the damp sand, secretly cherishing the way it slips between her fingers until she makes out the neck of a glass bottle. Digging through the sand a little more fervently now, Sakura feels her heart race in her chest until she finally unearths the old, glass bottle.
Her hands tremble as she gently brushes away sand from the bottle, holding it up against the sunlight to examine it. Adrenaline courses through her veins and she can barely contain her excitement when she realises that there is a letter inside it, tied together with fraying red thread.
A message in a bottle?
...
Two nights later, when the rest of the world is asleep, in the comfort of the fairy lights on her wall and wrapped in a towel with her hair still dripping wet – Sakura decides to open the bottle. It takes her multiple tries before she finally manages to uncork it. She tips it upside down and is surprised at how easily the letter slips out of it and onto her lap, tightly bound despite the fraying red thread. With trembling fingers, she unties it carefully, heart hammering in her chest. There are multiple pieces of paper, she notices immediately, and even though the papers are tinged yellow and crinkled from age, they are thick and sturdy.
She doesn't realise she is holding in a breath. How long have these letters been at sea for? A hundred years? Maybe even more.
Quick glances as she separates the pieces of paper tell her that there is more than one writer. Chunky alphabets and spelling mistakes in one stand out immediately and she knows that they definitely belonged to a child, and eloquent, beautifully perfect cursive writing in the other definitely belonged to an adult. A writer? A poet, perhaps?
And then what appears to be a photograph slips out, and as she unfolds it, gently so as not to damage the already fragile paper, the curiosity bubbling in her gut only grows. It is a photograph of a wedding, taken from behind the bride who is walking down the aisle. But what catches Sakura's attention is the groom.
Somehow, the man in the faded black and white photograph strikes a chord in her. His eyes…it is like an invisible but imminently perceptible, palpable force field that draws her in. There is so much love in his eyes, and she feels her heart ache. Her fingers gently trace the outlines of his face. There is a rawness in the photo, a monumentality of a beautiful moment, and she suppresses a shudder. This photo…it is like a time capsule. For a brief, split second, Sakura thinks she can see between what was and what is. She feels an overwhelming sense of nostalgia, and it scares her. The tingling warmth it sends through her fingers and toes gradually passes through her like a warm ocean wave and she knows that she has to read the letters.
-.-.-.-
All the other kids at school don't understand why I don't have a Mama. I got angry at Papa yesterday. I asked if I didn't have a Mama because you don't love us. I'm sorry, Mama. I shouldn't have said those things about you to Papa.
Uncle Itachi said if we wrote you a letter, you'll know how much we love you and you'll forgive me. Wherever you are, I hope this letter finds you. Mama, I miss you. Papa misses you too. I hear him crying when he thinks I'm sleeping. Uncle Itachi said I can see you in heaven if I become a good person like you. So I'll try really hard Mama.
Papa helped me draw a photo of the three of us. I hope you like it.
I love you, Mama.
Sarada.
-.-.-.-
There are two things that hit her when she reads the first letter. One, is the name Itachi. The patient that is responsible for her suspension from the hospital. The second, is the drawing. Although the colours have long faded, the woman that Sarada is referring to is clearly the woman in the photograph. Her eyes are green, and her hair pink.
Her head spins and her trembling fingers drop the letters into a pile on the floor.
That night, Sakura is plagued by dreams that she will never remember when she wakes.
-.-.-.-
Sakura gasped. "I can't…I can't…" She just wanted the agony to go away. Everything around her melted away into the background, and she could only focus on the hot, searing pain between her legs and the contractions in her stomach that made her quiver.
"Yes, you can," Sasuke said, squeezing her now limp hand. "I'm right here with you."
She let out another scream as a contraction hit her and Sasuke leaned in close to her, placing a kiss on her temple. She felt him climb onto the bed behind her, and her muscles relaxed instantly as she leaned back against him, taking comfort in the familiar contours of his body.
-.-.-.-
Sakura squeezed her eyes and did as she was told, screaming in pain as she pushed in time with her contractions. She gasped and panted, feeling as if she was being ripped apart from the inside. She felt Sasuke wrap his arms around her, whispering words of comfort in her ear.
"You can do this, Sakura. She's nearly out, just a little bit more."
She sniffed and gritted her teeth, steeling herself for another push. This time, pain ripped through her whole body, and she screamed, low and feral and she felt Sasuke's whole body tense.
-.-.-.-
"Sa…Sasuke-kun," she said, voice barely above a whisper. "She…she's perfect." And then she burst into tears, lower lip trembling but her eyes were bright, suffused with joy and love.
Sasuke leaned forward to place a chaste kiss on her lips. "Thank you, Sakura."
-.-.-.-
"I'm here, Sakura. I'm here," Sasuke said. He was crying. She could hear it in his voice.
"Her name…," she continued, pausing to take in a deep, rattling breath. The baby in her arms suddenly felt so heavy. "Sa…Sara…da."
Sasuke's almost painful grip on her hands grounded her a little bit more.
"Uchiha Sarada. She's beautiful," Sasuke sobbed.
"I love you, Sakura. Just stay with me. Sakura? Sakura!"
-.-.-.-
The next day, she feels an exhaustion so deep in her bones that it unsettles her. She is used to living on coffee and three hour sleeps and twenty seven hour shifts at the hospital, but this – the struggle to lift her arms up to brush her hair – brain fogging up as she watches the world pass by in a series of random images – feeling as if every eye lash weighs more than it should – this, makes her feel as if she has just surfaced from ocean-deep water, unable to breath. It leaves her craving for a rest she doesn't understand.
…
Sakura listens distractedly as Ino gushes about the new café. She has to admit, her cup of hot chocolate is made to perfection, not overwhelmingly sweet with just the right amount of marshmallows, and the tables by the window that overlook the ocean are perfect. Slow, soft music she remembers listening to growing up flit throughout the café, and she hums in agreement.
"But enough about my thoughts. I want to hear what's got you so distracted," Ino says knowingly before sipping on her chai latte.
Immediately Sakura feels guilty. Ino is here, also suspended from work, because of her. Because Sakura thought that she could do what she thought was right and damn the consequences. There were too many things that could have and should have gone wrong with the surgery. Even though she was first in her class and three years younger than all of the other residents in her year, it was a risk she shouldn't have taken. Especially without consent from her patient or his immediate family members. Especially without consulting with her attending. And especially having no one assist her but Ino. She groans.
"I'm sorry, pig."
"Damn right you should be, forehead. You've got a lot of coffee dates and shopping trips before you're forgiven," Ino says warmly, and Sakura's lips lift into a small smile.
Reaching over to squeeze Sakura's hands, Ino smiles. "I don't think you did the wrong thing, Sakura. You saved his life. And if I had a second chance, I would've assisted you again."
Over the course of the next two hours, Sakura indulges Ino with the letters she found. She tells her of waking up after a dream she cannot remember, feeling an age old exhaustion she cannot comprehend. She shows Ino the drawing from Sarada and the photograph of the man who is familiar yet now, and she feels her heart squeeze painfully as she traces the contours of his face.
Somehow, she feels broken and incomplete.
Ino eyes her contemplatively, twirling her strawberry blonde hair in her fingers, lips pursed together in thought. "I think you're overthinking it, Sakura. You're stressed from all the stuff that's been going on with the hospital."
"Yeah, I know. It's just…" she trails off, not quite believing her own words. I know him, echoes in her mind, teasing her, and she shakes her head to clear it.
"I don't think you should delve into the letters anymore, forehead," Ino says carefully. "Let them rest."
A pause. A sigh.
"Okay."
Somehow, her heart tugs in protest. That night, Sakura rolls up the letters and tucks them into her drawer, heart clenching continuously throughout the process.
…
It is her third consecutive week here, in this quaint little coffee shop by the beach. It has become a habit, jogging on the beach with the rising sun, spending an hour in the bath with her favourite book, and then sitting at her table by the window, sipping on her choice of drink for the week as she watches the waves roll up against the shore. Today, she is sipping on an iced Americano.
It starts to rain, a slow drizzle that gradually turns into a downpour and there is something melancholy but comforting in the rain today. Huddling into her oversized scarf, she sighs. Sakura sits and listens to the rain grow heavier and something about it has her more relaxed than she has been since her suspension. She misses the hospital terribly – she misses the comforting weight of a scalpel in her hand – the nauseating smell of disinfectant. She misses saving lives, misses feeling like she means something.
The smell of something delicious distracts her from her thoughts, and she looks up to find Naruto, the café manager, placing a plate of waffles drizzled in cream and fresh strawberries on her table.
Grinning a little too brightly, he takes a seat across from her, already shoving a fork under her nose.
"This is on me, Sakura-chan! Dig in!"
Sakura takes a sniff before moaning. "Ino will be so mad," she whines, mouth opening to receive a generous bite.
Over the past few weeks, she has grown accustomed to Naruto's rambunctiousness. He is loud and happy and infectious, and there is something so easy and effortless about their relationship that has her captivated. She doesn't know why, but the sound of his laughter and the crinkle in his blue eyes bring memories of faded red bench tops and the smell of ramen – she remembers the warm burn of sake down her throat and galloping horses. She doesn't understand the nostalgia, but it isn't hard to pretend that they've spent their entire lifetime like this; laughing over silly jokes, occasionally reprimanding him when he is being overwhelmingly stupid and spilling out secrets all too willingly.
When their bellies are satisfied and Naruto lets out a burp, the entrance to the café chimes merrily, announcing the arrival of a new patron.
"Ugh, break's over, Sakura-chan," Naruto moans, a little too loudly, as he moves to stand, chair scraping across the wooden floor loudly.
"Dobe. What are you doing?" The newcomer barks, and his voice is a low rumble that sends a shiver down Sakura's spine.
"Teme!" Sakura watches as Naruto's face lights up and he starts waving enthusiastically. "Come here! There's someone I want you to meet!"
There is an undignified snort followed by a scoff. "Don't harass the customers, idiot."
"Hey! I'm not an idiot, bastard!" Naruto bellows, and Sakura turns to look at the newcomer.
Her heart catches in her throat.
He is tall, and something about him is dark. His black hair is damp and tousled from the rain, and his features are strong and defined, thin lips pressed together in a scowl. And then his eyes leave Naruto and he looks her way, lips lifting into a smirk.
What she sees sends her reeling and the smile that was just beginning to form dies on her lips.
The darkest eyes she has ever seen meets hers, and she's hit by a wave of terrifying certainty. She knows these eyes.
A low, pulsing thrum in her ears tells her that her cheeks are flushed from all the blood rushing to her face. Her trembling hands reach for her bag as she wills her seized heart to beat normally. This man, who she has never seen in her life – he bursts with foreign lives replete with memories and knowledge and context that she knows.
She doesn't understand why she is feeling like this – feeling like she is drowning in the familiar ocean she swore she loved – feeling like she is breaking into a million tiny fragments that are impossible to put back together – feeling as if she loves him, this stranger who she has not even met, this stranger who feels like the most beautiful chaos in the world.
So she runs.
-.-.-
"Sasuke-kun! Thank you, I –"
"Save your bullshit Sakura."
"Wha –"
"When were you going to tell me the truth?"
"You're a terrible liar, Sakura."
"I don't understand."
"I didn't either, but I'm seeing everything with clarity now." He gripped her wrist and pulled her towards him, hard enough to bruise, and his eyes bled red as he seethed. "Get out of my sight. I don't ever want to see you again. And don't let anyone catch you, Sa-ku-ra. Because if they do, you won't live to see another day."
Her heart shifted at his merciless gaze and felt like it was being ripped to tiny shreds.
She needed him. Loved him.
She had sacrificed so much for him, and here he was, throwing it all away without a second thought.
Hadn't he told her he loved her too?
"Get out now."
"Sasuk –"
His eyes left hers immediately and his lips pressed into a hard line. "Don't. Don't you fucking dare say my name."
The desolation she felt was all consuming. The pain left nothing but a void that enveloped her mind in swirling darkness.
-.-.-
She wakes up with tears streaming down her face and her whole body trembling from an overwhelming heartache she can't understand. Sakura heaves in big, heavy breaths, shaking hands grasping at her heart. She doesn't remember what she's dreamt about, but when her cries escape her they are not quiet and they are not controlled.
She does not go back to the café for two weeks.
…
"Doctor Haruno, if you have anything you'd like to say to the board and to the Uchiha family, now's your chance."
Sakura's lower lip is raw from her chewing on it so much. Her hands tremble as she smoothes down the invisible wrinkles on her skirt. She isn't as prepared as she'd like to be for the board meeting –Tsunade had rung her yesterday evening, requesting her attendance, and she had barely slept a wink, the sinking feeling in her gut too overwhelming. When Tsunade had told her that Itachi's family had requested her attendance at the board meeting, she knew that she wouldn't be let off lightly.
She forces her legs to lock into position as she stands, taking in a deep breath. Her green eyes meet reassuring honey gold at the other end of the table, and she stands a little straighter, squaring her shoulders.
"I don't regret my decision to operate on Uchiha Itachi."
There is a surprised collection of gasps in the room, followed by instant murmurs.
"Doctor Haruno, I don't think you understand the gravity of your actions," Orochimaru says, yellow eyes gleaming with an intensity she doesn't like. Has never liked. "I take what goes on in my hospital very seriously. I don't think you understand how much a life is worth."
"With no disrespect, Orochimaru-san, I know what I'm capable of. I've always been at the top of my class and I'm three years younger than all of the other residents in this hospital. I know that I've broken some protocols – too many to count, but I also know that I saved a man's life. Uchiha Itachi would not have survived if I had waited for my attending to arrive. He would be dead if I hadn't taken the risk. I know I'm only in my second year of residency, but I performed a surgery that has only been done twice, and I did a hell of a good job at it. That means something. And if I was given a second chance, I'd do it all over again. Because I'd be damned if I let my patient die on me because I was too afraid to break some rules." She is snarling by the time she is finished, hands curled into tight fists at her side, not able to hide her anger anymore.
Sakura flinches as Orochimaru's lips lift into a smirk, and she feels the anger drain out of her as quickly as it came. He has always had an uncanny ability to make her squirm.
"Ah, there it is. That infamous temper of yours. We have rules for a reason, Doctor Haruno. They make sure doctors know their place. They make sure that the patient is protected from egoistical doctors such as yourself. Do you really think brains are all it takes to be a doctor? You may have graduated from the most prestigious medical school and you may be ahead of every other doctor in your residency programme, but it doesn't mean that you get to play with a life. Tell me, Doctor Haruno. What was the success rate you gave your patient prior to starting surgery?"
"Five percent," she says, voice quiet, and she can hear the murmur of astonishment and disbelief around the room.
"A five percent chance of success. That means that there was a ninety five percent chance that Uchiha Itachi could have died on that table. And yet you still have no regrets."
A familiar sense of dismay creeps over her, although now it has nothing to do with the man who runs the hospital. From her left, she can feel four pairs of eyes boring into her. Sakura forces herself to face the Uchiha family, pointedly ignoring the man she thinks is Itachi's younger brother.
"I'm sorry I put you at risk, Itachi-san. But I would never have let you die on that table."
There are no other words she can offer, nothing she can say to make this right, and when Itachi's dark eyes lock into her own, she knows that he knows it, too.
The board meeting reconvenes two hours later, and although the decision that comes with it is unexpected, she wills herself to be as strong as they say she is. A six month suspension and a review every three months for a year before they determine if she is allowed to continue her residency at the hospital. It is nothing she can't deal with, no matter how much it upsets her.
"I understand," Sakura says, voice cracking painfully here, and she swallows, knuckles bleeding white with the force she is using to clench her hands into tight fists. Tears threaten to fall, but she fights them back, because she will not cry here. She knows in her heart that she made the right decision, knows for a fact that he would have died if she hadn't done something, knows that she would rather die than kill a patient because she was afraid. Because she is Haruno Sakura, and she will not give Orochimaru the satisfaction of seeing her cry.
She walks away with her head held high.
…
His toes are almost touching hers. He is staring into her eyes with such an intensity that Sakura almost forgets the situation she has found herself in. His eyes are darker than she remembers and even more impossible to decipher when he is this close to her. He takes a step closer, forcing her to tilt her head back so she can maintain eye contact, her back hitting the wall.
Sakura's heart beats wildly in her chest.
"Haruno-san," he says, voice deeper and richer than she recalls hearing at the café. She can barely form a sentence, and what escapes her is a quiet, undignified squeak.
"Thank you."
She swallows. There is a stabbing pain in her heart, and her lungs constrict and her stomach flutters nervously.
"What for?" her voice is barely above a whisper. It's silly, that she is so affected by a man she doesn't know.
"For saving my brother."
"I was just doing my job," she says quietly when she is finally able to find her words.
A pause.
"Why are you afraid of me?" he asks suddenly, but quietly so no one would overhear, the question spilling from his mouth with an abruptness she doesn't expect, and she wonders if this is the real reason he tracked her down after the board meeting. She wonders if she imagined the hurt in his voice.
She averts her eyes. "I don't understand."
"You're afraid of me, Haruno-san. I saw it in your eyes at the café. And I see it now, too," he murmurs, moving impossible closer, his face now just inches away from her own.
"I barely even know you, Uchiha-san. I was…I was in a rush to get somewhere. I'm sorry if I offended you."
He must see through her lie, because he immediately takes a step back, and she thinks there is something akin to disappointment in his eyes.
"Naruto says you used to visit the café on a daily basis. Every day since it opened. He hasn't seen you for two weeks."
She laughs nervously, cheeks flushing red as she tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "I've been busy." They both know it's a lie.
His mouth opens, about to say something, but he catches himself, closing his mouth before nodding.
"I hope to see you at the café soon, Sakura."
The way her name rolls off his tongue causes her heart to squeeze painfully in her chest, and she fists her hand in her skirt to steady herself. Her eyes sting from tears waiting to fall, and Sakura doesn't understand. She doesn't understand why he is so familiar, why he makes her heart race and her skin tingle. She doesn't understand why she feels vulnerable and afraid.
So she pushes past him and runs, struck by a sudden familiarity she doesn't really understand.
That night, she dreams.
-.-.-.-
Sasuke kissed her, long and slow, and she had sighed pleasantly as their mouths met in a quiet desperation. The taste of him was overwhelming. And then his hands were at her waist, crushing her against him and his soft kisses became firmer, more heated, and before she knew it he was lowering her onto the bed. It started as a slow exploration of tongues and fingers, and there was a simmering burn in the atmosphere. She was conscious of every inch of Sasuke's body against hers, the touches of his fingers leaving trails of electricity on her skin. His hands guided her own, to the places he wanted her to touch, that made him growl low in his throat and nip at her skin.
Sasuke's eyes blazed with a tint of red, and she flushed red at the thought of him memorising every detail of her face and body. She felt as if her body had been set on fire, and the unfamiliar heat that pooled in her belly made her throw her head back with choked off moans, with whispered pleas for him to touch her, for him to please do something to quell the slow burn. And then with a gentle snap of his hips they were joined so intimately in a way she hadn't thought possible, and she clung to him, mind and thought and rationality replaced by heat and pressure and pleasure. Her awareness of herself shifted and the only thing she knew of was the place they were joined.
Sated in mind and in body, Sasuke traced his finger from her eyelids to her nose to her lips. The soft glow of the moonlight that streamed in through the window lit her face up, and her smile was breath taking, but still inferior to the brilliance of her emerald eyes. He moved to thread his fingers through her hair, and with his other hand he pulled her flush against him. He leaned down, dark, onyx eyes boring into hers, and the pure joy and happiness that radiated in her eyes made him taste her lips once more.
"I love you, Sakura."
That night, Sakura wondered if someone could be so happy and so complete that they would burst.
-.-.-.-
She wakes suddenly to the faint memory of kisses against her neck and hands weaving through her hair – searing heat from the weight of a body against hers and growls of approval.
Her heart constricts in her chest under the weight of her dream. It is overwhelming, waking up like this – not remembering but feeling. She heaves a sigh. The only thing she can remember are dark eyes, flashing with an intensity of something vulnerable and something passionate.
…
It is five days later when the familiar bell chimes.
"Oh! Oh! Sakura-chan, it's you!" Naruto all but screams when she steps foot into the café. He looks so positively happy, eyes too bright and smile too big,at her appearance and she pushes down the guilt that is quickly creeping up. She barely has the time to register that he is staring at her from the counter as Naruto bounds towards her, robbing the breath from her in a too-tight embrace. She panics inwardly as he makes his way towards them.
"Dobe," he says, voice ringing clearly in her ears. "Give her some space. And don't forget you're still working," he chides, and Sakura's cheeks flush red. Whether it is from his proximity and the memory of their last encounter, or embarrassment at the scene they are causing, she isn't sure.
Naruto chuckles good-naturedly, giving her another hug and punching him hard in the shoulder before trotting off, muttering about grumpy, demanding best friends.
He clears his throat. "Can I get you a drink?"
For a moment, she hesitates, but the sincerity in his eyes changes her mind. A wry smile tugs at her lips. "A hazelnut latte would be good."
Fifteen minutes later, they are sitting at her table, sipping on hazelnut lattes in a somewhat comfortable silence. Her stomach is a mess of fluttering butterflies and she tries to ignore the heavy weight of his gaze, pretending not to notice as she stares out into the ocean.
Unsurprisingly, he is the first to break the silence.
"I'm impressed with the way you held yourself in that meeting," he says quietly, and she doesn't have to look at him to know that this time, he is staring unabashedly at her. "A lesser doctor would have admitted guilt immediately."
"Do you think I did the right thing?" Sakura doesn't know why, but all of a sudden, she wants to know what he thinks of her. It unsettles her, this sudden urge to gain his approval.
"Yes."
Her eyes widen and she looks at him when he answers without hesitation. There are no lies in his eyes, and she blushes. She must look unsettled, because his lips lift into a small smirk.
"Itachi wouldn't be alive otherwise."
In his lack of hesitation, she finds her answer. There is a sudden sense of trust, of feeling like she has finally earned a trust she has been searching for her entire life. It is stupid, because growing up, Sakura has never had trust issues, has never felt the need to prove herself, and for a second she doesn't know how to feel.
Nevertheless, a smile tugs at her lips. It is the first genuine smile she has offered him, and he must be able to tell because for a moment, his entire face lights up. He doesn't smile, but the slight crinkle underneath his eyes give him away, and it warms Sakura to her toes.
Something in them changes, because when she finally looks at the time, it is three hours later.
"I should go," she says, wrapping her scarf around her neck.
She thinks he looks a little like a disappointed puppy as he moves to stand. "Aa. Will I…will you be in tomorrow?" He asks, somewhat hopeful, and she offers him another smile.
"Yes."
Just before she exits the door, he calls out to her, a little frantically. "Sakura!"
Her name on his lips still make her skin tingle.
"I'm…I'm glad to finally meet you." His voice bursts with sincerity, with so much honesty, and Sakura feels tears well up in her eyes.
"You too, umm…?"
"Sasuke."
Her heart skips a beat.
"Sasuke. Sasuke-kun," she tests, and she feels her cheeks heat up. The way his name rolls off the tip of her tongue with ease, with a hidden affection she doesn't expect surprises her. "I…I'll see you tomorrow."
Dreams plague her again that night.
-.-.-.-
"Sakura-sama. Now. We need to leave. Now."
Sakura's eyes widened with curiosity, and she ignored Katsuyu's increasing cries as she swam cautiously toward the man and his boat.
This man did not look like the photo her father had painted for her as a child, there were no empty eye sockets or messy dreadlocks and lopsided grins. His eyes were dark, smouldering and intense, his hair just as dark as his eyes, falling jaggedly over his face. His cheekbones were high, his nose was tall and aristocratic, and his jaw chiselled.
He came to a stop and allowed her to approach him in her own time. She hesitantly placed her hands on the sides of his boat, pulling her body up to get a closer look at him. Her tail swished back and forth behind her, creating gentle swells in the previously still waters. For the first time since he embarked on this journey, Sasuke hesitated. This mermaid was beautiful. Her wide, emerald green eyes glowed, her cheekbones high and her jaw sharp. Her lips were full and pink and the lavender diamond on her forehead fascinated him. Her long, damp pink hair hung around her face and spread around her in the water and her skin glowed. Her golden tail shone even more brilliantly up close and Sasuke had to tear his eyes away from her chest, barely covered by intricately placed red shells. She was petite, far smaller than the mermaid his brother had brought back five years ago. Alluringly, she would blink her eyes from time to time, allowing her eyelashes to flutter and brush against her cheekbones.
He leaned down towards her, and when she didn't shy away he slowly cupped her cheek with his right hand, silently marvelling at the smoothness of her skin. Sasuke leaned down towards her and brought his lips to her ear, smirking when he felt her shiver and squirm uncomfortably. When he spoke, his voice was husky. "What's your name?"
His lips grazed her ear and he could feel the heat radiating off her face. He smirked. "Sa…Sakura. Haruno Sakura." There was a shyness to her, hesitation in her movements and a softness in her voice.
"Tell me, Sakura. Have you ever been with a man before?"
-.-.-.-
Sakura wakes up feeling breathless. She wakes, and for a fleeting moment she feels like she has found a spark to a match that will light a fire within her.
…
She starts going back to the café on a daily basis, and it surprises her that he – Sasuke-kun – takes the time to have coffee with her. His interest in her surprises her; it is more than getting to know the doctor who saved his brother's life – more than getting to know a regular customer in his café – more than getting to know his best friend's new best friend.
She thinks of him often. More often than not, she finds that he is on her mind when she watches the rising sun on the beach. There is always a constant flipping in her stomach when she thinks of him. Always a dull, roaring ache in her heart, always feeling as if she is carrying the weight of scars from a past she doesn't know, always feeling as if she is afraid of breaking. But when she is with him, it is almost as if there is a force that pulls her towards him, and she is powerless against it. There is something about him that makes her want to know him.
Today, they are sitting in front of the fireplace in favour of her table that faces the ocean. There is something different, seeing Sasuke in the soft, warming glow of the fire. Sakura peeks at him when she thinks he isn't looking, and she thinks that fire looks good on him. Orange, yellow and crimson dance in the depths of his dark eyes, and something about it mesmerises her.
Sasuke isn't what she is used to. Sakura is used to people who enjoy talking, used to people who enjoy conversation. Her whole life, she has felt a constant need to fill the quiet with noise. She has always been afraid of what happens when there's nothing left to say. The awkwardness, the vulnerability, the uncertainty. But Sasuke is reserved and quiet. Sasuke, she's come to learn, speaks with his eyes. He speaks with his movements, with every lift of his lips. He speaks with the subtle creases across his face that outline the most passive of emotions. And Sakura is pleasantly surprised to find that with him, silence can be comfortable – special, even. She can't quite describe it, but with Sasuke, silence is more than the absence of words. He fills it with the same meaning ascribed to long, heartfelt conversations. The way he speaks to her and the way she so easily reads him, carries a significance she doesn't understand.
Here, by the fire with a man who she barely knows but knows, is like a small slice of heaven, hung and strung so delicately together by short wisps of time. It is the most intricate array of fleeting chances smiled upon by fate.
"Sakura."
"Hmm?" The way her name rolls off his tongue still makes her heart riot in her chest.
"I know it's only been a month," he starts, and she thinks he almost sounds nervous. "But I'd really like to get to know you." The unspoken words are there, not in any way hidden, and she doesn't know what to think. I want to go out with you. Take you to dinner. Really get to know you. I like you.
"You are getting to know me, silly," she teases.
"I mean outside of this," he says meaningfully, and her stomach starts to flutter. She nibbles on her lower lip and slowly tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear, gaze focused on the embers dancing in the air to avoid his dark eyes.
"Why?" Her voice comes out as a soft whisper, barely audible and almost lost amidst the crackling and hissing of the fire.
Sasuke surprises her when he gently sets their coffee cups down on the table, one hand taking her hand in his, and the other, slowly and hesitantly enough so that she could pull away if she wanted to, reaches to cup her face.
"I like you, Sakura. The past few weeks have been great, but I want more. I know that this is where you feel secure. But I want more than this, Sakura. I want more than coffee and waffles with you. Let me take you out to dinner."
Hearing him voice his thoughts out loud sends tendrils of delight through her, and she is so shocked by how she feels that she is rendered speechless. Breathless. Mind spinning, she looks at Sasuke with dazed eyes and flushed cheeks, and she thinks she sees the corner of his lips lift slightly, faint traces of fondness in his eyes.
Her heart swells with a warmth she hasn't felt before, and it suddenly feels like she is being chased by a trailing tail of fading dreams. There is a feeling of fullness, of swimming and gliding through the soft currents of her heart.
So she looks at him. She is lookingat him. Sakura is looking at him, and decides that she doesn't want to be afraid anymore. She smiles slowly, bashful and sincere. Her heart skips a beat.
"Okay."
"Good."
Sasuke doesn't bother to hide how pleased he is with her answer. He holds her gaze a little longer before withdrawing his hands, and reaches for their cups. Sakura's skin tingles where he had touched her, and she is taken aback by her desire to feel his hands on her once more.
…
Bewildered green eyes stare right back into steely onyx.
"What?"
The smirk he sends her way has her reeling. "I said, Sa-ku-ra, that I want you to meet my parents."
Months have passed by slowly, and with each passing month Sakura finds that the bond between them has escalated – intensified – in a way that feels like it was meant to be. She finds herself succumbing to a slow wave of pure, earnest affection, but this – is something she isn't sure she is ready for.
"I've already met them, Sasuke-kun," she tries, "At the hospital."
"Aa. That's right. At the hospital. As Itachi's doctor. I want them to meet my girlfriend." There is no denying the hint of pride in his voice, and she feels a blush spread across her cheeks.
Sakura mumbles out a soft "Okay, Sasuke-kun," and is pleased when Sasuke wordlessly buries his face in her neck, a small chuckle escaping him.
He shocks her when he places butterfly kisses on the tender skin of her neck, occasionally nipping before soothing her skin with his tongue. "I'm glad," he whispers against her skin. "I want everyone to know you're mine." He pauses and nips at her skin again. "Because I love you." Sasuke brings his face up to look at her, eyes sincere and honest. "I love you, Sakura," he repeats quietly, and she feels every fibre of her being tremble with his words.
Her eyes soften at the honesty in his eyes, in his voice, and she cups his cheek with her right hand. A smile forms on her lips. She isn't ready, and she knows he knows it too, and she feels an immense love and appreciation for the way Sasuke is so patient with her. "I know, Sasuke-kun," she whispers before bringing his head down to hers and melding their lips together.
Sakura's lips tingle as Sasuke kisses her – gently, tenderly, as if she might break, and her hands move to grasp his shirt in tight fists. She squeals in surprise when Sasuke wraps his arms around her waist, pulling her over so she is straddling his lap before deepening the kiss. His left hand moves down to her hip, fingers gripping tight enough to bruise, the heat of his touch searing her skin as his kisses grow more fervent. A whimper escapes her and Sasuke groans, his right hand leaving her waist in favour of tugging at her hair, exposing her neck and jaw in a way that awakes fluttering butterflies in her stomach. She gasps as his thumb traces a line down her throat, followed by a trail of kisses. His hair tickles her skin and his breath is hot and warm, and Sakura's breath hitches. She is pressed so tightly against him that she can feel his heart race in harmony with hers as he greedily presses his lips to her skin.
"Sas – ah!" Heat starts to pool in her lower belly as he nips at her collarbone roughly before soothing it with his tongue. Her only response is a fevered groan, followed by a slow, passionate kiss full of tongue and teeth.
"Sakura…" he groaned against her lips, right hand still tugging at her hair. She whimpers when his hand at her hip pulls her closer. Feeling his arousal against her, Sakura moans in response, tightening her legs around him to pull herself closer, rocking her hips harshly against his.
Sasuke pulls back to look at her, and something in her snaps. His gaze is soft and tender as he looks at her, and she can see flashes of want and love and affection. It is both familiar and heart-breaking and it takes her breath away – makes her heart flutter. Her throat starts to tighten and she feels the familiar sting in her eyes. Confusion and dismay fill her.
"Sak…what's wrong?" She doesn't notice that she has pulled away from him, although still close enough to feel his breath puffing hotly against her cheek, and his dark eyes are now filled with worry.
"I…"
I know you. I know you. I know you.
The words repeat themselves in her head like a mantra.
Sasuke's hands move to cup her cheeks and he presses their foreheads together, and the way his dark eyes gaze into hers has her heart clenching painfully. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to take it too far," he says quietly, nose grazing hers in silent affection. His arms leave her face in favour of pulling her into a warm, protective hug, and Sakura tries not to cry as Sasuke sighs into her hair, kissing her forehead in a silent apology.
"I'm sorry, Sasuke-kun. I'm so, so sorry."
…
After Sasuke kisses her goodbye with a promise of seeing her tomorrow – encased in the stillness and silence of the night, Sakura rummages through her drawers until she finds it.
Heart racing with anticipation, she makes herself comfortable in a cocoon of blankets and her trembling fingers sort through the letters.
…
Sarada came to me tonight, saying that we should write you a letter. Tell you the things we wished we could. And that if we sent it off to sea, it would reach you. I know it's childish, doing this. But when it comes to you…or any remote possibility that…I might be able to reach you, I want to try it all. Sarada is a smart girl, so, who knows? She might just be right.
Sakura, I miss you.
When I lost you, I lost the best part of me.
It's been six years, Sakura. And yet…I still feel your loss as if it was yesterday.
When I close my eyes I can still feel your fingers running through my hair. I can still feel the way you press yourself into me when you've had a hard day. I can still hear your laughter in the wind and I can still feel the way your lips lift into a smile when you're tucked in the crook of my neck. And your eyes…I still remember the exact shade of emerald, and how they glimmer and sparkle when you smile, and how they darken just so when you want me. I don't think I've ever told you this, but your eyes are what I loved most about you.
Love.
Because I never stopped.
But when I look at Sarada, I realise that our love isn't gone. Our love exists in her. In her smile, in her eyes, in her laughter and in her heart. She's asleep now, passed out from the exhaustion of writing her letter. She is so much like you, Sakura.
Sarada makes me realise that if I look hard enough, I'll find you. That I haven't lost you. Not completely.
But I feel like the threads holding me together are slowly coming undone. My head still turns at the slightest glimpse of pink and my heart still hurts when I see emerald. I'm trying, Sakura. I really am. Sarada is all I have and I am all she has and I know that if you were here, you'd tell me that I have to be strong. But you were always the stronger one out of the two of us.
This lifetime…it wasn't meant for us.
But it has always been you. Even when I didn't yet know you. It has always been you. Whether it is in this lifetime, or the next, or all the ones after that, it will always be you. And I will find my way back to you.
In another lifetime, I will fight for you. I will protect you. I will be with you every step of the way. When we meet in another lifetime, I will not make the same mistakes I made in this one. I will not hurt you, will not abandon you. I will be your light and your strength and your courage. In another lifetime, we will grow old together, count our wrinkles that would have only come from laughing too much together. In another lifetime, we will have made it.
Forever yours,
Sasuke.
…
The letter leaves her breathless. Her head is spinning and she can barely see through the tears.
Sakura doesn't know how long she's been like this – tears rolling down her cheeks, staring wide-eyed at a letter addressed to her. From Sasuke. It's ridiculous, she knows, because this is a letter she's found by the beach. A letter that is most definitely at least a hundred years old. But what makes it difficult to ignore is the photograph that had spoken to her the first time she laid her eyes on it.
Sasuke is looking at her. Sasuke. Sasuke is looking at her.
A whirlwind of emotions hit her – every single time she's looked at Sasuke and known. Every single time her heart trembled and her skin tingled. Every single time she's woken up from dreams she can't remember and cried from feeling so incomplete.
Sasuke.
She knows him. Has known him. Has loved him.
His promise of finding her in another lifetime is nothing but a bittersweet consolation. She has never believed in such a thing – a love that transcends time – the words are familiar. Words that are thrown around in hospitals when a patient is dying.
And yet, here she is. Here he is.
…
Mikoto ushers them through the door with welcoming smiles and too-tight hugs, and Sakura wonders if it's possible for the never ending marble tiles to swallow her whole. The Uchiha residence is grandiose – nothing like the now seemingly modest apartment Sasuke lives in. Everything – from the luxurious tapestry to the lavish rugs, from the hue of the flowers decorating expensive wooden table tops to the shiny marble tiles – everything, makes a statement. Mikoto is wearing a silk dress softer than anything Sakura has laid her hands on and she doesn't have a single strand of hair out of place. Her fingers are freshly manicured and she carries an air that screams of old money.
Here, she feels out of place. Inadequate. Feeling self-conscious, she tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear, and wishes she hadn't agreed to do this. Between her discovery last night and her first day back at the hospital, she doesn't know how she is going to cope tonight. But Sasuke's warm, comforting hand on the small of her back grounds her, tips her world back in balance and she stands a little straighter because she has agreed to do this – for him – no matter what other problems she may have.
Dinner is both pleasant and overwhelming – the polished silver cutlery is heavy to her hand and the satin napkins that line the carved oak table must cost more than her dress. The pasta is delightfully smooth and the spinach undoubtedly expensive, and Sakura secretly marvels at how Sasuke has managed to stay so humble despite his wealthy upbringing. Fugaku and Mikoto are polite, asking about her accomplishments as a doctor and what she desires in life, but it doesn't miss her that they steer clear on any topics of her background or Itachi's surgery.
It isn't until after dinner, when she offers to help Mikoto with dessert that things turn sour. It isn't hard to miss Sasuke and Fugaku's raised whispers as she makes her way back to the dining room with an intoxicatingly aromatic tiramisu in hand.
"You've got to be fucking kidding me!"
"Language, Sasuke."
"You don't get to tell me who I can and can't date. I'll fucking see whoever I want."
"That's right, Sasuke. You do. And I've never stopped you, because I knew you weren't serious. But this one you've brought home? It's absurd!"
"She has a name. It's Sakura."
"I'm sorry Sasuke, but you need to break it off with her."
"What the fuck is wrong with you? Fuck, what's wrong with her?"
"She's not good enough Sasuke, that's what!"
"For fuck's sake! She's smart. A doctor. You should appreciate that. And she's gorgeous and kind and everything that I want."
"She nearly killed Itachi!"
"She saved him!"
"She got lucky, Sasuke. If you think I'll let you bring a failure like her into our family – "
"Dad, fucking stop. Itachi is alive because of her. We – you owe it to her."
Mikoto's arrival distracts her, and her lower lip trembles as the older woman slips her free arm around her shoulders, squeezing tightly.
"Sakura, I'm sorry. Don't take anything you've heard to heart. Sasuke cares about you. And if it helps, I'm vouching for you."
"Sasuke-kun…used to date around?"
"Aa. Quite a bit, if I'm honest. But he's different with you, Sakura. Trust me when I say that. Now, let's have some dessert," she says, hand squeezing her shoulder one last time before brushing past her and into the dining room.
The air in the room is so thick with tension, and Sakura is so awkwardly uncomfortable she wishes she could disappear. Fugaku is still polite, giving nothing away. Sasuke is tense and quiet and shooting her apologetic glances. Mikoto does her best to dispel the tension with stories of Sasuke's childhood mishaps. But their voices are blurry and the rest of the evening turns into a night of dense haze.
…
She really doesn't think she can deal with him right now. The pain in her heart is too heavy and her emotions are already brimming. All she knows is that she wants to melt, to sigh, to lean on him and allow him to take away her hurt – but she can't. Swallowing the lump in her throat, Sakura shifts to face him. Her heart is racing in her chest and pounding relentlessly in her ribcage.
"We need to end this, Sasuke-kun," she whispers.
"What?" Sasuke visibly flinches, clearly taken by surprise, and Sakura squeezes her eye shut.
"I can't do this anymore, Sasuke-kun. And you don't owe me anything. Saving Itachi's life was a part of my job. So…you don't have to pretend to like me anymore."
"Sakura, this has nothing to do with Itachi." His eyes harden, insistent.
"Don't lie to me Sasuke! I heard you! You…you and your family owe me nothing."
"I didn't mean it that way. I was just – my dad is stubborn, Sakura. He…I needed him to realise that it's not always about wealth or status. I'm sorry it came out the way it did." He runs his fingers through his hair the way he always does when he's agitated.
"It doesn't matter anyway," she says, voice breaking and her whole body trembling. "I don't like you like that, Sasuke." The words are bitter on her tongue.
"Don't lie to me," he says quietly. Then, almost uncertainly, "Don't tell me the past six months meant nothing to you."
"They didn't."
She watches as he breathes in slowly, trying one last time to be patient. "Sakura, what's wrong? You know you can trust me." His voice is delicate and gentle, and she feels her heart break all over again. He doesn't know how much she wants to, how much she doesn't want this, but how can she possibly tell him when she doesn't understand it herself?
Sakura allows herself to selfishly stare at him for a moment, taking in the tenderness in his eyes and the smooth angles of his jaw. Her eyes burn and she hiccups, willing herself not to cry, but as soon as the first tear falls, Sasuke reaches out to grasp her shoulders tightly and pull her towards him. His right arm slips around her waist and his left buries itself in her hair, tugging her face into his chest.
"Sakura," he murmurs in a way that sends tingles down her spine. She feels him pull her closer before resting his chin on the crown of her head, fingers threading through her pink hair. "You can trust me." On instinct, her hands come up to clutch as his shirt, and she feels her body melt into his in a boneless heap. In his arms, she is powerless to stop the sobs that wreak her body.
The pain she feels in her heart is so excruciating she can barely breathe. Because saying goodbye to Sasuke is mourning a lost future. She has no right to feel this way – like her heart has been shattered into millions of tiny fragments – because she chose this.
But she selfishly tightens her hold on his shirt, clinging to Sasuke one last time as she whimpers out broken apologies.
I'm sorry. Sasuke-kun. I'm sorry. God – I – Sasuke-kun.
Sasuke-kun. Sasuke-kun. Sasuke-kun.
When he buries his face in her hair and whispers "It's okay," she knows he understands. Because Sasuke has always been able to read her like an open book.
…
Ino burrows her chin into Sakura's shoulder, the way she always does when she is about to give Sakura an earful. Literally. "Sakura, you're being ridiculous," she starts. "You're reading too much into those letters. I thought I told you to get rid of them."
"I know," Sakura says carefully, trying to ignore the way Ino rolls her eyes at her. "But they speak to me, Ino. And the dreams…I know I don't remember a thing, but I wake up…I wake up and I feel so much, and it's the same every time I see him. He makes me feel things I don't understand." And if there was one thing they both know Sakura hated, it was the absence of clarity.
"Yeah, I know. But so what if somehow, this whole crazy thing that's going on is because fate decided to bring the two of you back together? You need to stop romanticizing the world Sakura. You don't even know what the Sasuke who wrote that letter did to hurt her – you. The Sasuke we know has been nothing but nice to you. He hasn't done anything to hurt you."
"But he might," Sakura whispers. Ino purses her lips, then sighs insufferably.
"That's what happens in relationships, Sakura. You know it's not always going to be rainbows and butterflies. You tell me that every single time I get into an argument with Sai. Take your own advice for once, will you?"
Sakura groans.
"Forehead, you're smarter than this. You know none of this is Sasuke's fault. And we both know that if you were honest with yourself, you love him – oh, don't give me that look. At the very least, Sasuke deserves to know the truth."
Sakura shifts uncomfortably as Ino withdraws and collapses on her bed. She knows Ino is right. It's been a month since she last saw him, and she can't stop thinking about him. The dreams are gone, but the memories of him haunt her. Every day, every hour, every minute, every second. The pain is dull – like a deep, numbing ache that doesn't seem to fade no matter what she tries to distract herself with.
…
Five weeks later, she finds him where the sky touches the sea.
"Hey, Sasuke-kun," she whispers into the breeze. Her heart is pounding in her chest, the slight tilt of his head the only indication he has heard her. His shoulders tense just a little, and she takes this moment to commit his image to memory. His hair is tousled from the wind, and he is much taller than she remembers him to be. She can smell his cologne in the air and even though he is yet to acknowledge her, she is glad. Glad that finally, the distance between them is somewhat smaller.
"Sakura," he murmurs, finally acknowledging her presence. When he turns to look at her, his brows are furrowed, confusion evident.
She takes a deep, shuddering breath while she carefully relays everything. The dreams she never remembered, but always felt. The imprints of faces and moments in time. The drawings and the letters and the jumbled mess of emotions she has been. That she feels like she has known him, has been waiting for him her entire life.
For a few long moments, they sit together in silence, eyes distantly drawn to the endless sea, minds trapped in Sakura's confession.
Her heart pounds in her chest as she tentatively leans into Sasuke, and when he doesn't pull away, she curls her hands into his shirt and buries her face in his shoulder.
"I'm sorry, Sasuke-kun."
Her tears burn through his shirt, dampening it, and she tightens her hold on him. Being with him made her feel complete. How had she let him go? When Sasuke's arms slip around her, pulling her into a tight embrace, she gasps and allows only a moment's hesitation before she wraps her arms around him, desperate for his comfort.
"I love you…" she confesses, voice barely above a whisper. "I love you, Sasuke-kun."
The way he kisses the crown of her head so tenderly makes her heart ache. "I'm sorry," she whispers. "I was so stupid – I was scared and I – " Her voice cracks and a hiccup escapes her, earning a chuckle from Sasuke despite the circumstances. And then he captures her lips with his and everything around them disappears. Sakura kisses him back with fervour, desperate with all the pent up love she has been denying since she met him. She sighs, content, when he cups the back of her neck, pulling her closer.
And when they break apart, Sasuke leans in, forehead flush against hers, and Sakura can see nothing but love and forgiveness and yearning in his eyes. "It's okay…we all have fears. But next time, we'll face them together, okay?" he says softly. It is all she can do to nod furiously as tears continue to roll down her cheeks, lips trembling in a way that Sasuke finds endearing.
"You're so annoying," he whispers, so endearingly tender and before Sakura can say anything his mouth meets hers in a sweet, languid kiss, and she sighs contently, moving her lips back onto his. They share long, deep kisses – breaths mingling and fingers grasping tightly – and Sakura can feel the weight of his affections for her, so strong it is almost suffocating.
-.-.-.-.-
That night, Sakura dreams.
Her eyes open, and she finds herself walking along a beach. It is quiet and deserted. The air is briny and the quiet whisper of the waves as they lap gently against the shore is comforting. The tide is low, and far in the distance, she can make out the outlines of scattered rock pools. She squints her eyes as she makes out a dark form amongst the rock pools, and as she gets closer, she realises it's a person.
Something about this draws her in, and soon Sakura finds herself running through the damp sand. "Hey!" she calls out when she is close enough for him to hear her, but she gets no response. When she is finally next to him, he turns, and she recoils.
Sasuke?
This man has Sasuke's face, but the lines on his face are hard – worn out with anger and regret and sorrow. Her instincts prompt her to lay a hand on his shoulder, and she gasps when her hands go right through him. She watches him for what feels like forever. He's staring out at the horizon, where blue meets blue, unblinking, as if waiting – and then something glints in the light of the quickly fading sun and he is up – running sluggishly through wet sand until he reaches the water – and Sakura follows him, heart pounding and adrenaline rushing through her veins in apprehension, until she sees what he's so desperate to reach, and her heart stops in her chest. Because emerging from the waves is her.
Only this version of her is not human. Her features are more pronounced, more exotic – her emerald eyes sparkle in the sun and her long, pink hair hangs around her face beautifully before spreading out and around her. And her tail – beautiful and golden – is swishing back and forth in the shallow waves.
What…
"Sakura…" Shock and disbelief fill her when her name rolls off his tongue. It is the exact same way Sasuke calls her – and her mind is reeling.
She watches as she – the mermaid smiles, warm and gentle and so full of love, before she pulls herself off her belly and sits where sea meets the sand.
"Sasuke-kun." Her voice is quiet, barely audible over the lapping of the waves, but she sees Sasuke's face light up, and it warms her to her very toes. In an instant, he drops to his knees and cups her cheeks, eyes roving over her form, as if trying to convince himself that she is here.
"Sakura," he breathes, and when she smiles, he presses his lips to hers with a bruising, desperate force.
Sakura watches as she – Sakura – returns his kiss with no hesitation, lips moving against his with equal fervour, and she feels their desperation down to her every pore. She watches as they finally pull apart, breathless, but so, obviously happy. Sasuke presses his forehead to hers – a gesture that is so familiar – and tears roll down his cheeks. "I'm sorry," he mumbles. "I'm so, so sorry."
She watches as he buries his face in her neck, one hand curling around her waist and the other running through her hair. He is murmuring words of apology, words of how much he has missed her, how much he loves her, how long he has been waiting for this moment.
For a spilt second, Sakura is overwhelmed by grief and pain – emotions that aren't her own, but it feels like she is drowning in them. She doesn't know who's emotions these are, because she can see how broken Sasuke is, and she – Sakura – is trembling in his arms, face pressed into his hair to muffle her sobs. There is a bittersweet mixture of sorrow and longing, suddenly filling a void in her heart she didn't know existed.
Tears are running down her own cheeks now, and Sakura doesn't know how long they stay like this, but Sasuke's grip on her never wavers. "Sakura," he says when she finally stops hiccupping. "I'm sorry." She watches as they pull apart, watches as she shakily cups his face in her hands.
"I forgive you, Sasuke-kun. I always have." Sakura watches as Sasuke brings a hand to hold hers in place as he leans into her touch, tears already welling up in the corners of his eyes. His forehead creases together in pain, and he presses a kiss into her palm.
"I've missed you. So much. I – every day without you was hell."
"But it's over now, Sasuke-kun. We're together now," she says, smiling softly. "I never left you, Sasuke-kun. Or Sarada. I've always been here," she says, one hand pressed firmly against his chest.
"Did you get our letters?" he asks quietly, and Sakura's breath hitches in her throat.
"Yes," she says, words tumbling out of her mouth in unison with herself, and all of a sudden, realisation dawns on her.
In this lifetime. In a past lifetime. In all lifetimes to come. They have loved each other through time and space.
Sakura watches as she grips his shirt tightly, tugging him closer until they are a breath-width apart. "I'm yours, Sasuke-kun. In this lifetime, and all our lifetimes to come. I'll always be yours." The kiss that follows is startling in its intensity. Their lips move together fervently, and the passion in it lights her brain on fire and Sakura feels the strangest, fluttering feelings of longing and tender affection crawling under her skin, and her cheeks flush at the intense love she feels rushing through her veins. Her breath catches in her throat and a nervous warmth blooms across her chest, blossoming in every direction like the most intricate of webs. It fills her with a kind of drunk passion – a dizzying need to be near her Sasuke. There is an aching need to be reunited, a profound need to make him understand how much his presence means in her life.
And then they pull apart and laugh, so full of mirth and happiness and there is a magic that Sakura can't ignore.
Something within her breaks with relief, as if a piece of her that has been long broken has finally been fitted back together.
…
Waking up to Sasuke for the first time sends her emotions skyrocketing to her heart's surface – triggers a cosmic dimension of emotions in her. Her heart flutters in her chest as she takes him in, features soft and relaxed in sleep. She runs her fingers lightly over his cheek, fingertips gently grazing his skin, and she giggles when he groans, lips drawing together in a pout before pressing his body closer against hers, muscled arms tightening around her waist. She squirms when he buries his nose into the nape of her neck, and then he places chaste, butterfly kisses on her sensitive skin that send shivers of pleasure up her spine.
"Morning, Sasuke-kun."
Sakura feels the low, pleased rumble in his chest at her words, and she sighs as he draws her even closer against him.
"I had a dream last night." Sasuke nips at her neck gently before laving the stinging pinch with his tongue and she jerks in surprise.
"What about?" His voice is soft and husky, still deep from sleep, and she hums pleasantly.
Forgiveness – she's learnt, feels like the most beautiful second chance. The dream has left her feeling a freedom like she's never imagined. Like a burden has finally been lifted off her shoulders. She feels light.
So she kisses him – soft and slow and he tastes like her favourite cup of hot chocolate on rainy days by the fireplace – like dango at her favourite stall on balmy evenings. He tastes like home.
"Soulmates."
Maybe one day, she will tell him about a love that transcends time and space. But there is a tingling warmth in her heart that tells her she doesn't have to – because this love belongs to them.