Author's Notes: A shameful amount of fluff can be found in this fic, but it's the first and only thing I've been able to actually finish writing in a while and I'm incredibly happy with it despite its… fluff-induced shallowness… XD So meh.. meeeeh.. I hope you guys enjoy this. ^^
Disclaimer: Naruto's not mine.
That which is
"Epic."
That was, she remembered, the term she used to describe her love story – or at least, what she envisioned of it – to an inebriated Ino.
Seventeen years old and still filled with the most idealistic notions about everything, Sakura was able to say it with the quiet determination of a girl in love.
"Our love – it will conquer all."
She was, quite regrettably, inebriated herself back then, and was therefore given to sporadic bouts of tasteless poetry; an influence, no doubt, of her emergent friendship with a certain spandex-wearing nin.
They – she and Ino – were celebrating the world that night, savoring how 'open' it suddenly seemed.
She had compared herself to Juliet and him to Romeo, sans the depressing ending. 'The worst is over', she had told Ino, 'Nothing's going to stop us now.'
Of course, her confidence was not entirely unfounded. They had, after all, just finished saving the world as they knew it from a deranged megalomaniac who threatened to turn everyone into obedient zombies with the use of the moon. Said 'Romeo' was actually on the wrong side – i.e. he was with the megalomaniac who just happened to be his uncle – but he turned good at the last minute and saved the 'future Hokage' from certain death, successfully earning his redemption by being invaluable to the whole process of 'saving the world'. The interference had almost cost him his life, but thankfully, she was there to patch him up.
And really, after a fiasco like that, what else could stop them?
The answer was, she found out, a lot of things.
Sasuke, she discovered, was really full of silly flaws beneath all his psychosis and neurosis.
He was, for one thing, traditional to the point of being a complete and utter embarrassment.
He didn't hear any declarations of love from him, but her parents certainly did.
They found out about his feelings and his 'intentions' before she did. And that, she thought, was just the biggest let down of all.
She had just come home from a tiring shift at the hospital, wanting nothing else but a hot shower and some nice, much-deserved sleep, when Sasuke surprised her by emerging from her house's front door.
"Sakura", he said in lieu of a greeting as if there was nothing unusual about the situation.
"Wha—", she said stupidly.
She wanted to ask him a lot of things, but he was already gone by the time she had gathered her wits enough to process the event.
And as much as she wanted to badger him about what he was doing – or rather, what he did (part of her was worried that Sasuke finally snapped and she would find her parents on the floor, drowning in their own blood, but that was silly, wasn't it? Sasuke-kun wouldn't… would he?) – in her house, she figured she would find out soon enough anyway, so she decided not to follow him right then and there.
Which was a mistake.
Because the moment she stepped into the threshold of what should have been her haven, she was met with one of the most absurd moments of her life.
"Congratulations Sakura!", her mother declared after enveloping her only daughter in a fierce hug.
"Wha—", she said stupidly for the second time that day.
"He loves you!"
It took her a moment to realize who 'he' was, and when she did, it did not really help in elucidating the situation one bit.
"Uh, no, mom, I love him.", she deadpanned as she patted the over-excited woman on the shoulder, not really wanting to be reminded of the unrequited state of her seven-year old love for the said boy.
"No, you silly girl, he loves you."
"Mom—"
"I have to say, Sakura, you did quite well for yourself. That Uchiha Sasuke is quite a catch. Impeccable manners. Such excellent—"
Sakura wriggled out of her mom's arms then and faced both her parents, scared and expecting the worst, but trying her best to look threatening.
"Dad. Mom. Explain."
Anybody else would have been intimidated, but apparently, not them.
Her dad grinned and her mom giggled. They infuriated her, really, but she was their daughter and she was doomed – nay, cursed – to love them.
"We," her dad began, pointing to himself and to his wife, "just gave Uchiha Sasuke permission to court you!"
"Court," her mom snickered, "Why, honey, even during our time that term was already considered archaic. I didn't know people still did that—oh but, Sakura, this is just so cute, I should have made your father do that—"
Her mother trailed off, her words dissolving into a fit of silly little giggles as she cavorted with her husband.
But by then, Sakura was already gone, sheer embarrassment pushing her to be twice as speedy as she usually was.
That day, she went to the forest and unleashed her fury upon the hapless trees.
Shikamaru and Ino had begun their relationship with a passionate 'how troublesome' kiss. Naruto and Hinata had their 'ramen noodle' kiss, Neji and Tenten had their 'compromised position during training' kiss. And they, Sasuke and Sakura, had this—this—this which was not even a 'this'!
Exhausted, she plopped down on the grass and surveyed the damage.
Her frustration was enough to make tears well up.
"I suppose I should have told you first."
The voice startled her out of her reverie, and she quickly blinked the tears out of her eyes.
"Yes, you should have", she bit out.
Sasuke sat beside her then, after dropping a bouquet of flowers on her lap.
The silence stretched out between them, awkward and stifling, which made Sakura decide to break it. But then Sasuke surprised her by speaking first.
"I thought—I didn't anticipate that the feeling was no longer mutual", he murmured, almost inaudible in the rustling wind.
Sakura looked at him, confused at what exactly the boy meant by 'feeling'. And then it dawned on her—
"Oh, no, it's—"
"Sakura, it's okay. You don't have to force yourself. If you're this," he gestured at the destroyed greenery, "averse to the idea of me courting you, then—"
He was cut off by a kiss.
It was an angry kiss, with years of pent up frustration driving it.
But Uchiha Sasuke was nothing if not an 'alpha male', and soon enough, he had taken the impetus from her, one hand on the back of her head, leading, controlling.
The kiss lasted several minutes.
When they separated, they were both breathing heavily and looking at each other with a sort of dazed look that said, 'what the hell just happened?'.
But Sakura recovered quickly, so she grabbed the bouquet and threw it at Sasuke's face.
"That is how you should've done it, Sasuke. You don't just go to a girl's parents and ask for permission to court her! Court, Sasuke, court! Just what century do you think you're living in, huh?"
"But tradition—"
"To hell with tradition!"
And then she pulled him into another kiss.
That night, she tried to salvage what was left of the bouquet he had given her and pressed some of the flowers in between the pages of her medical textbooks, a small smile adorning her lips.
Looking back, perhaps she might have over-reacted. After all, a confession was a confession, even if it was her parents who heard it and not her. It would just have to do.
Besides, they were together now, and that was what mattered ultimately, wasn't it?
Apparently not.
Uchiha Sasuke, she found out, was an utter pain to be with.
It wasn't because of all his emotional baggage, which was what everyone automatically assumed. She was particularly talented in handling him during the 'tough times', and he was surprisingly open to her help. When she expressed her surprise at his willingness to 'share', he only remarked that it was an expected part of being in a relationship – it was a degree of maturity that she had not expected in him, but made her inordinately pleased nevertheless.
However, about four years after they had started 'dating' – and not courting, a voice in her head supplied – they had moved in together (Though he was averse to the idea at first, insisting that the proper order was 'marriage then moving in'. In the end, he had been able to do nothing about the things she had smuggled into his home while he was away on a mission. And really, it didn't take a lot of convincing to make him see the merits of living together.), and she was finally exposed to all the little quirks in his personality.
One, he did not like it when she wrinkled the bedding. He harped at her whenever she did while smoothing the said wrinkles out like a nagging nursemaid.
"Sakura—", he would begin and she would fight the urge to cover her ears, "how many times do I have to tell you that you should—"
Bla-bla-bla-bla-bla, inner Sakura would finish.
In fact, he didn't like it when she messed up anything.
So anal was he about having everything in proper order, especially his kitchen, that Sakura eventually gave up trying to become the 'housewife', contenting herself in having him as the 'househubby', so to speak.
It destroyed all her childish daydreams of her serving his breakfast, but hey, he made a mean hotdog – perfectly crisp and perfectly juicy, with delicious, ripe tomatoes on the side – so who was she to argue?
Two, he had this annoying habit of correcting her grammar and her pronunciation, even if his was far from perfect.
"—so we went to this small town to gather some herbs."
"Herbs, Sakura, not erbs."
"Herbs.", she would grind out.
"Hn.", he would grunt.
And inside, every time, she would seethe.
Three, he was logical to the point of absurdity and always, without fail, made the most sound and inarguable reasons.
Sometimes, she even wondered how someone who had that much logic could decide to go to an insane Sannin for training.
And really, where did that guy who laughed like an evil villain go?
"You're right, Sasuke-kun." Again.
"Of course."
Four, those flowers she got on the fateful confession day – well, they were the first and last.
"They wilt too quickly, Sakura. But if you really want some for your vase, then I can buy you some artificial ones."
Which brings her back to reason number three.
He annoys her to no end.
But despite all his little flaws, Sasuke was loyal, kind, and more than she could ever ask for, really.
So now, twenty-three years old, once again inebriated, once again celebrating the world and how open it is, but most significantly, sporting a ring that had been his mother's, Sakura knows one thing for certain.
And this, she tells Ino, with complete confidence.
'Epic' has nothing to do with their love story.
They're not Romeo and Juliet.
They're Sasuke and Sakura.
And she wouldn't have it any other way.
Fin.