Running Away

The first time she ever told him that she loved him, they'd been kids. Hardly old enough to know what love is, if you asked him. But she cried it with such unwavering certainty that he couldn't doubt her; not even for a moment. The moments the words left her mouth, he only hoped that she'd take them back. God, how he wanted her to take them back; it would only lead her to pain. He left her on a bench that night, only hoping that his 'thank you' would be enough.

The second time she ever told him that she loved him, they'd been on the battlefield. There had been blood on her face; whether or not it had been hers was something he found himself pondering even to this day. There were no tears that time. No, it was much less dramatic than that. But she told him that if they died, she wanted him to know that she still loved him. It caught him so off guard that the only response he could come up with was complete and utter silence. As she ran off, she didn't even look surprised at his lack of acknowledgement. He turned back to the battle and resumed fighting, trying to block the words from his mind.

The third time had been just after her 18th birthday. Some of their friends had thrown her a party and after a few hours and a few glasses of sake, the night became a blur. When he was finally able to understand what had happened, he found her lying beside him, her bare back exposed to the light shining in through her window. She whispered it in her sleep just as he was leaving, having already collected his discarded clothing. He hesitated, but ultimately he continued on his way, leaving her behind to wake up alone. He could only hope she wouldn't remember.

The fourth time she told him was when they were 20. The mission had gone smoothly until a kunai lodged itself in his leg, successfully slicing through his femoral artery. She was above him seconds after he hit the ground, hard enough to knock the wind out of his lungs and the coherency out of his mind. The tears didn't start until after a few minutes, but when they started, all he could get his disorganized head to do was simply watch as they fell, one by one, into the dirt beneath her. Before he lost consciousness, just as the screaming of his teammates for him to 'stay with them' reached his ears, the only thing his mind clung to was the 'I love you' she uttered, her words almost completely overshadowed by the panicked shouts. Days later, when he resumed consciousness in the hospital in Konoha, he chose to ignore her words, pushing them in the back of his mind as she worked over him silently.

He was 23 when he learned that she was leaving the village for a mission—one that would last for over a year. He approached her, demanding an explanation, justifying his actions by insisting that he deserved to know why, but all he was met with were soft smiles and reassurances that she'd be back before he even noticed she was gone. He watched her go that day, exiting through the gates of the village, her back to him as she grew farther and farther away from him. He tried not to let the absence of those three little words get to him, but for weeks it was all he could think about.

He didn't see her again until months later, while on a mission of his own. He hadn't expected to find her walking alongside another man, her arm linked within his, laughing loudly and brightly. Upon seeing her face—happier than he'd seen it in years—he fled, retreating back to the inn he was staying at.

For days, throughout the duration of his mission he tried to reason with himself.

He didn't care.

She could do what she wanted to.

It didn't affect him at all.

He should be relieved that she finally moved on.

Yet before he left the tiny village, he found her again, alone this time as she walked down the almost-empty street. As he called out her name, he was almost expecting to see her turn to him and give him a smile—the smile she always gave him, the one that reassured him that she still loved him. But when her expression gave nothing away, nothing more than her curiosity at his appearance, he almost turned around right then and there.

He waited for her to say something, although she remained silent, watching him with scrutinizing eyes. Feeling uneasy, he couldn't think of anything else to do but call out to her with the first words he could muster up.

"Do you still love me?"

They hung in the air as he waited, terrifying himself with his own choice of words. Her expression did not change as she stared back at him for a long moment before making careful, calculated steps toward him.

"Does it matter?"

The sound of her voice after going so long without it made something in his chest flutter and then tighten. He could only watch in silent desperation as she studied him with her scrutinizing eyes, still approaching him slowly. Eventually she stopped, a few feet away from him.

She was waiting for an answer; he knew she was.

Again the urge to turn and walk away hit him like a slap in the face. After all these years, it appeared that it was his natural response to being confronted with emotion. As he stared at her, he had absolutely no idea how to communicate his own emotion. And like before, he only replied with the words he could get himself to physically speak.

"Yes."

She was quiet for a long moment, unmoving as she still held her gaze on him. Slowly, he watched as a small smile formed on her lips, her eyes softening as she closed the distance between them. Lifting up her hand she placed it softly against his cheek—he surprised himself by leaning into the touch.

"Then yes," she said, smiling up at him with the same smile he was so familiar with, "I love you."

It took almost ten years for Uchiha Sasuke to stop running away. And to him, the reward of learning how to do it was all worth it in the end.

A/N: This is yesterday's prompt. I'll be posting today's sometime over the course of the morning.