Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.

Uchiha Sasuke. I wrote the name down on the paper one more time, just to make sure there was still such a name. The characters flowed from my pen with relative ease; even though it had been nearly three years since I'd had to actually write them down in the first place.

I was the sole occupant of the otherwise empty railroad car: I had requested it to myself and paid the extra money without a second thought. I glanced up from the paper and out the window to the verdant blur of trees passing me by, but I was never really looking at scenery.

I only saw Sasuke.

The Sasuke who had ignored my pleas that summer evening as he walked out of my life and Konoha. The very same Sasuke who refused to return to home three years later, after our briefly reunited Team Seven had made a consensus to work as the team it had once been to bring down Orochimaru and disband Akatsuki.

Itachi had escaped into the blanket of night, and Sasuke wasted no time in following. It didn't matter that we brought promises of amnesty from Tsunade if he returned, because Itachi wasn't dead yet.

Even after we traveled all that way and fought side by side, Sasuke had never planned on returning to Konoha with us. Just like the little boy who abandoned Konoha that night so many years ago, the grown man didn't want to be saved. It didn't matter what I had to say or what I tried to do; Sasuke had his revenge. It was as simple as that.

I gave up trying after that day. We returned home to the village minus the one ninja we were expected to return with. Tsunade spoke to each of us privately in her office, wanting to know the why's and how's of the situation.

I told her everything, not just because she was the Hokage, but because she was my medic teacher, my mentor, and I owed her the best explanation of how I could possibly fail her. It only made me feel worse when she said that she didn't blame me.

I came back to the very same office a week later with a request form in hand. She read the document carefully, her eyes growing wide as she looked back up at me and down at the paper once more. Finally her shaking hand scribbled the official Hokage signature before handing the paper back to me without a word.

As I closed the door behind me, I heard the distinct impact of her fist on the desk and the splintering crack of the wood. Everyone else reacted the same, but in their own ways, when I told them I was resigning from my ninja status.

Kakashi reread the whole set of his very first Icha Icha Paradise collection, but never once glanced at a page. Naruto took his anger out on the training grounds and was solely responsible for the annihilation of an entire forest.

It didn't help that I also planned to leave Konoha to attend school. Then again, it couldn't be helped. It was something I had to do. I had to get away from everything and everyone that reminded me of Sasuke, if only because it was in this way that I could attempt to move on.

I promised to visit at least once every few months, but somewhere in all the time, my visiting became second priority, until nearly a year had elapsed since I'd been home. Three hours by train. Another hour by walking. That was how I always measured the distance I had put between myself and Konoha.

But this time it was different. Instead of counting the minutes and tallying the miles, I measured the leagues of thoughts and memories that I had tried to keep stowed away.

Naruto's phone call had changed everything; it was the real reason I was returning home to the village. A man had shown up on the doorstep of Konoha two days prior, his body dragging itself up to the gates before collapsing, his gray robe bathed in the sickening sight of blood. The familiar black cloak of the Akatsuki was clenched in the death grip of his unconscious hands. Two scratched Konoha forehead protectors were wrapped tightly within it.

It didn't take long for the rumors to spread that there was now only one true heir to the Uchiha clan, and that he had returned to the village. He was the sole survivor, the last of one of Konoha's greatest families: Uchiha Sasuke.

It was just a lucky coincidence that my final school year had ended, and I had no incentive for staying in the city. There was no use in lying to myself, in saying that I had indeed moved on. I would have left in an instant anyway, if it meant seeing Sasuke again.

A lone figure was waiting for me on the packed wooden platform outside the train station, leaning against a chipping column. His silver hair protruded from the top of his bright orange book, immediately recognizable in the crowd. I smiled into my hand, surprised that they would send Kakashi as my welcoming party. I was even more astonished that he was here on time.

I sat still for a while, listening to the other passengers as they scrambled to be the first to get off the train. Excited voices, disgruntled growls, and happy shouts from the small children who were tired of being cooped up in the cramped compartments. When the ruckus outside my door had subsided and footsteps no longer echoed in the corridors, I slung my luggage over my shoulder and made my way off the train.

As I stepped down onto the platform, Kakashi tucked his book away and walked over to me, taking one of the bags from me and settling it into his grip. He rested his other hand on my shoulder and squeezed it lightly before drawing back. He looked down at me and tousled my hair in an attempt to lighten the mood.

He cleared his throat and smiled beneath his black mask. "Yo."

That simple greeting was enough. Tears blossomed into the confines of my vision. Heat flourished from my burning cheeks as I tried to suppress the wave of nostalgia that had washed over me. I dropped my bag and rubbed wearily at my eyes, trying to figure out why I was crying.

It just felt so good to see him and hear his voice, because if I could see and hear Kakashi, then somewhere in my head I had the reaffirmation that what Naruto had said was true. In some weird sense Kakashi justified everything I could have possibly doubted. Sasuke was alive.

Kakashi could only stand there as I clung to his vest and soaked his shirt with my tears. Even though we had known each other for nearly six years, he had never quite gotten used to consoling his only female student. He breathed a heavy sigh and looked up at the cloudless sky, shaking his head. "Ah, Sakura," he murmured, "You shouldn't have come home."

His room was on the fourth floor of the hospital. The halls were strangely quiet as Kakashi led the way to a door halfway down one particular corridor. Three ANBU were stationed were stationed outside of it, white masked guards standing still and firm. Kakashi spoke in hushed tones to one of the guards, who promptly stepped aside, allowing me entrance into the room.

The only obvious sound in the immediate area was the angry voice that escaped from the open door. Naruto was yelling.

A pale curtain hung from the ceiling, giving the two distinct silhouettes cast along it what little privacy they had. One of the figures stood, gesturing furiously with his hands, while the other sat, blatantly motionless and silent.

"Do you know what Sakura-chan went through, after you left again? What we all went through?" Silence responded to the questions. Naruto growled impatiently. "You can't just come back and expect everything to go back to normal," he shouted.

His shadow drifted back and forth along the curtain as he paced in his anger. Finally Naruto stopped in mid-step and let his head hang, his voice weak and bitter. "She's coming back to see you. She hasn't been back in over a year, but she's coming to see you."

I remained still, processing the words and tones, feeling ashamed of myself for even getting on the train. I stared at the off-white paint of the wall and bit into my lip. It was all I could do to keep myself from breaking into tears again. My chest grew tight as I held my breath and fought the swelling of emotions inside me. My throat began to burn with the pain until I could no longer keep silent, a small cry ushering itself from me in the strangely familiar echo of my voice.

The curtain was ripped away almost instantaneously, leaving me startled and shaken where I stood. Naruto gaped at me in disbelief, his eyes surveying my reddening face as I avoided his gaze. His mouth trembled as he tried to find words to say, and finding none, he stormed from the room.

A young man sat casually within the monotonous surroundings, leaning calmly against the wall. His bed sheets spilled over into his lap, his upturned palms resting there. His was thinner than I remembered; his skin marred with a few nicks and bruises but was otherwise flawlessly pale. His black hair still stuck out in cocky angles like ruffled feathers. His eyes stared at me from beneath the curtain of overgrown bangs, cold and unfeeling. The shell of a human being.

I stumbled toward the bed. My movements were shaky; my body was weak and limp. He just watched me indifferently as I came closer. I felt angry at how he could just sit there and stare, so calm and collected. I reached out to feel his face, the skin cool as a cucumber against the heated palm of my hand.

Without knowing why, that same hand that had cupped his cheek flung back away from the face, only to fly forward once more. I slapped him. The stinging sound of my hand's collision with his beautiful face rang out through the tiny room. No one moved to stop me. Once, then twice, a third time for good measure.

It was finally on the fourth swing that Sasuke's own hand rose to catch my wrist before I could hit him again. I froze at his touch my eyes transfixed on his hand. His grip was strong but careful; I knew he could have snapped me in two if he wanted to.

"Sakura."

My gaze returned to his face, hardly believing it could have spoken my name in that same voice. I tried to pull out of his grasp. His hold on me remained firm.

"Sasuke-kun," I whispered, my voice pleading at first. "Let go." Somewhere between my trek to the bed and my assault on Sasuke, I had started crying. The tears dripped down my face, into the crevices of my lips, congregating at the curve of my chin, staining the light blue sheets below me. I repeated my plea. "Let go, please."

When he still refused to relinquish his hold, I raised my voice. "I said let go." I clawed at his hand. "Let go." My breathing was becoming shallow, my thoughts desperate. I started to scream. "Let go of me! Let go of me!"

Suddenly the grip loosened and I broke away. It was only because Kakashi and a dozen ANBU had appeared out of nowhere on every side of the bed. I staggered back into the wall, sinking into it for support. Kakashi rushed to my side, but I pushed away from him and stumbled out the room.

I ran blindly through the back streets of Konoha, my feet leading me down the once familiar trails. I slipped in through the back door of our family's sweet shop. I climbed the steps to the second floor and locked myself in my old room, the chattering gossip of the customers and my mother muffling my careless footsteps and clamoring. My parents had no idea that I had even come home from school yet, and I wanted it to stay that way, if only for a few hours.

A/N: Thanks for reading. All reviews are welcomed.