a/n: Who else hates the ugly "to share" buttons?

Part II

The trip home is long. Long enough for her to reflect on half-hearted metaphors and dwell far too much on his confused smile as she'd waved them goodbye.

"I don't personally know you," she'd said, voice steady, "but, but I think I've seen you around my village before. Why don't I ask around when I get home, and I'll come back and tell you if I find something?"

He'd nodded, and his slight smile had been so grateful, that Sakura had Known:

this is what she'd been training herself for, the culmination of all her medical expertise for this one man—this one metaphorical healing. She will be the one to pick up all the fragments of Uchiha Sasuke's life and piece them together again, and she would do it right. She will give him back just enough of the Sasuke-That-Was so that he will finally be at peace.

She will give him all the good she possibly can and keep all the dark, bloody secrets. She will lie, as she has done time and time again, if in the end everyone can come out just a little better for it,

(except to herself, she has never been able to lie to herself)

even if she had to be the one to bear the burden of half-truths and deceit, even if in the end they will look upon her with unforgiving eyes.

Even if it meant she could not be a part of his life—because, because it would hurt too much, for him to know what he'd meant to her and see him reject her another time, because when it came to Sasuke she doesn't want to be weak anymore—she would pull through.

She could do it.

He had said thank you to her once upon a time, and this will be the answer to the 'for what' that'd always plagued her mind since.

When Sakura walks through the gates of Konoha (rebuilt, as most everything were, courtesy of Tenzou), she greets the guards with a familiar smile and there is no strain in her steps. Her report to Tsunade is succinct and brief; she sees no point in mentioning Sasuke, at least not yet.

Technically, he is a war criminal, and technically, if it turns out he was still alive he would be brought back to Konoha and executed. But Sakura doesn't think that Tsunade is cruel, and something tells her that if she'd told her shishou she would have understood because her mentor has lost both her boys and known more than her fair share of pain and regrets.

But Sakura is not Naruto; Sakura has learned caution and the art of keeping quiet.

She does, however, ask for permission to leave the village for extended periods of time when she isn't on the active roster or helping with hospital duty. Tsunade had raised one elegant eyebrow in question but granted her request all the same, even when no explanation had been forthcoming.

There is trust and understanding when her teacher gruffly reminds her to not do anything stupid, because Sakura is not Naruto; Sakura has learned that to be a ninja meant that sometimes, you had to leave the façade of honor behind and soak your hands in more than just your enemy's blood.

She bows, deep and low, and leaves.

"What do you think the best parts of Sasuke-kun were?"

Naruto chokes around a mouthful of ramen, blue eyes sharp when he swivels around his stool to stare at her.

Sakura hasn't touched her food, chopsticks in one hand idly swirling congealing noodles in cooling broth, the other propping up her chin as she watched him from the corner of her eye.

Teuchi and Ayame, for their parts, quickly beat a hasty retreat to the kitchen. Sakura pretends not to notice.

"Sa-Sakura-chan? Why now?"

Because they don't say his name much, and she hasn't used that suffix since the last time they both saw him alive.

Ignoring his question, she pressed on "I think, I think the best parts of him were his determination, and his drive, and in the end, his loyalty. I—"

"The bastard always knew how to push people, he made us—he made me stronger."

Naruto's voice is husky, and his eyes a deeper blue than usual when he speaks. Sakura smiles at him gratefully and thinks that maybe, even if he wasn't here, it will all turn out okay.

Sakura takes her time making her way back to the nondescript village, so that by the time she finally arrives, it has been two and a half months since the last time she has seen him. She still wears her combat gear even if it isn't necessary, because here, surrounded by civilians and people who'd only ever known peace, she needed to play the part of Shinobi.

Surprisingly, Sasuke finds her first, and even though she's prepared herself, given herself more than enough time to be ready and steady and sure it is still devastating when long fingers touch her lightly on the shoulder and she turns around only to be blasted by dark eyes and pale skin.

He murmurs her surname in greeting, lips lifting briefly before walking and gesturing for her to follow. Quietly, she tells herself that Haruno-san on his lips had not hurt.

(And she will never get used to it; never get used to the softening of his eyes and the slant of his lips, all in conjunction with this new chasm of space, of years and distant politeness between them never never never never—)

He doesn't live too far away, the farm situated just barely on the outskirts of the village, but far enough that the main house cannot be called in the village proper. He isn't the one to tell her any of this though, she'd deduced it on her own based on the map he'd sketched her so few months ago.

Instead, the walk is made in (to her surprise) companionable silence. Her treads are soundless against the rough dirt road, and he'd apparently retained his own reticence for noise, movements as quiet and smooth as it'd ever been when he was a shinobi. It is almost reminiscent, Sakura thinks (wishes), of the rare times back during the last, great days of Team Seven, when it'd only been him and her on a red bridge, enjoying the silence of early morning as they waited for the rest of their team to arrive.

She takes a moment to admire him from behind, the gleam of sunlight making the black of his hair shine, the vulnerable white strip of skin at the nape of his neck and the smooth lines of his broad shoulders melting seamlessly into the hard planes of his back underneath a thin white shirt (white, not black this time, she notes).

This man, so beautiful and finally free of any lingering scars, this man would never be hers to have.

She can't help the wistful sigh that stirs the air around her lips, and the full implications of what she would be doing, the full implications of what she would lose hits her with an ache so deep that she'd have been bowled over if she wasn't so accustomed to the suffocating weight.

(Naruto might have had the world on his shoulders, but he was hoisted fully on hers, on the blood that cakes her hands and stains her fingernails red. He doesn't know it, but she is the only one Tsunade trusts enough to send on those missions of subterfuge and dirty affairs. She has killed so many for him, killed and healed and killed again, from the ones that's tried to hurt him for what he is to those that hurt him for what he could be. She is not so clean now, she is dirty

unworthy—)

"Haruno-san."

Sasuke has stopped, and is looking at her with questions in his eyes, and with a start she realizes that she isn't moving anymore, that she is standing stock still in the middle of the quaint little road, eyes glassy and arms clutching invisible scars around her middle.

The sunlight filters softly down through the spring leaves and bird song lightly permeates the air.

She takes in a breath, deep and quiet, and smiles tremulously at Sasuke before softly shaking her head.

He nods, like he understands, dark eyes tinged with only the lightest slivers of polite concern.

Sakura prays that he never really will.

She walks the requisite number of steps until she is beside him, and this time, they walk side by side.

The house is large enough to house both generations of the Endo clan, made of sturdy pale bricks and bright enameled tiles. She can see a smaller, unfinished house farther inside the property and Sasuke explains that it is for when the oldest son of the clan married.

She is still nodding along to his brief explanation when Amaya runs out of the house and flings herself into Sasuke's arms. Sasuke allows her only as much time to cling to him as to reorient herself in space, and then he is setting her gently but firmly back on the ground, and Sakura understands because he is and always will be a man who valued his personal space.

Sakura can see the other woman's eyes flash hurtful for just a moment, and she just knows, knows that Endo Amaya is as in love with Sasuke as she herself had been all those years ago, twelve and clueless in all the ways that mattered the most.

She wants to say something, tell this girl with burnt umber eyes to save herself from the heartache. But what did she know? The Sasuke here is not the Sasuke she'd known. This Sasuke would not spit cruel words if Amaya ever were to confess her feelings (perhaps she already had). This Sasuke might even consider it.

This Sasuke is not hers.

So she smiles brightly when Amaya asks Kun-chan if he'd brought her anything from the village and laughs when Sasuke says something light and teasing (teasing, he can tease now without malice or ill intent) in return.

And when the rest of the family start coming out of the door and Sasuke shifts so that he is standing protectively at the forefront of the small group of people, reflexively shielding Amaya's body with his, Sakura bows in introduction and cannot pretend that it doesn't hurt anymore.

They are nice people, she decides. They invite her in without reservation and look at her Konoha headband with curiosity. Apparently they don't get too many ninja around these parts, isolated as they are in the valley between two large mountains. They do not know where Konoha is, and the name of the long disbanded Akatsuki means nothing to them. Sakura wonders at the luck Sasuke had in being discovered by these people, who'd been on a trading trip that'd taken them uncharacteristically far from home.

Had anyone else found him, Sakura thinks, he would probably have been recognized and killed.

They ask her to stay for dinner first and to talk to Sasuke after, and against her better judgment she accepts.

That is how she finds herself sitting in front of a heaping serving of dumplings and soup. The food is delicious but she doesn't eat anymore after the first few bites. Instead, she is paying rapt attention to the way Sasuke interacts with those around him. The ease and familiarity is subtle, because even if he wasn't wounded bleeding fucked up on the inside Sasuke is still fundamentally Sasuke—reserved with his affections.

They interact—they interact like a family. The smiles are easy and the banter is light. The mother asks her a few polite inquiries, where she is from ("Konoha."), how well she knew Sasuke ("Not very."), if that was her natural hair color ("Sadly, yes."). Other than that they leave her alone.

Sakura can feel the gap though, this difference of worlds between them. These people know nothing of war and dying and the heartache of watching your home crumble in flames behind you. They do not worry about politics and poison and protecting their leader with steel and blood and life. Instead they talk about trade agreements with other civilian villages and cities and if the crops would pull through this year. Things that Sakura knew absolutely nothing of.

She sits still and quiet in the corner and returns to picking at her food. All of a sudden her hitai-ate feels too tight around her head.

Sakura feels the pressure of someone's stare and looks up to find Sasuke's dark eyes trained on her. The connection lasts for just another fraction of a second, and then he is looking away again, drawn back into soft conversation.

She asks that they take a walk. Alone.

The look Ayama sends her is withering.

Sakura doesn't bat an eye, and Sasuke must have seen something in her face (he'd always been perceptive, and memories whisper of a single compliment from a chunin exam long ago) because he agrees, excusing himself and promising to help with the dishes after they return. Endo Mayuri, as Sakura learns that the name of the mother is, merely waves him off.

Call her petty, call her jealous and selfish and just the tiniest bit over-possessive, but Sakura refuses to begin the healing, to begin to give him back any pieces of himself within those four walls. They are not in Konoha, but that does not mean she will just give this Sasuke to them too.

She would make sure that this Sasuke, who will be not quite Uchiha and not quite Kun-chan, has the ability to choose.

(And she knows what he will pick, because she will twist the truth and manipulate her words, make it seem like there isn't much for him to go back to except reminders of pain—easy pain, some kind of laughable tragedy that will always pale in comparison to the truth— and people that do not mind his absence. She will give him only what he can carry with him: the bare bones of his history. The bare bones of what could've really happened.)

It is uncharacteristically quiet as they walked slowly around the perimeter of the grounds. Behind the house, she can see the fields stretching far into the distance, the blue-grey of dusk reflecting pale shadows against the muddy waters of the rice paddies.

Nothing moves. There is no wind, no breeze despite the country's namesake. He walks, steps familiar enough to lend her the resolve she needs.

"Your name," Sakura breathes, "is Uchiha Sasuke."

tbc

a/n: Paige, YOU HAVE BIRTHED A MONSTER. /shot

Um, yeah, I said it'd be quick! I hope it isn't too confusing though, everything made sense in my head but by the third time I read it over on paper...

Well, the basic gist of it is that Sakura will tell Sasuke who he is, as so far as where he was from, what he did for a living, how he "died", etc, because she knows that otherwise not knowing his past would eat at him until he went back to Fire Country to find out himself (where he'll promptly get shot and killed because last anyone's seen him, he was crazy and wearing an Akatsuki cloak). BUT, she'll only tell him enough (and make up the rest) to let him rest in peace. I usually don't like to explain things fully in author notes, but I thought this chapter might really need it, aha. But YES, I can't believe the positive responses I got from the first chapter! I really, really hope this chapter (and all the chapters after) meet your expectations. Thank you so much for all your reviews and faves and alerts, and I'd love it if you'd drop a comment and/or some concrit when you finish reading. :)