It was a nice wedding. Traditional. Wonderful. Perfect, even. Here she was, a beautiful princess, getting married to her charming prince and living happily ever after. It was in between the Fire Country and the Wind Country and guarded by samurai. Sakura couldn't have asked for a more perfect wedding. Welll.

It couldn't be perfect without Sasuke. But she had to ignore that thought once more, the idea that her childhood crush was magically going to fall in love with her and marry her. It was silly and childish and she couldn't keep thinking that way. She had responsibilities― she had a duty. And that duty was to keep peace between the countries and damn if she was going to ruin all the negotiations and treaties just because she had a girlish crush on someone from her home.

Her home. That she was abandoning.

No. Not abandoning. She was leaving. And there was a difference.

After a day's worth of travel, they were in the capitol city of the Wind Nation, Suna. It wasn't, Sakura noted, as large and bustling as her own home of Konoha was― even at night― but it was beautiful in its own way― serene.

"It's different, isn't it?" Sasori asked, causing her to jump out of her trance. She blinked and looked over at him.

"A bit," she admitted. "I was expecting something more. . Busy."

He laughed, but it seemed hollow. "Normally, there are more people outside, but there's a sandstorm expected soon, and no one wants to be outside during that."

"But," Sakura began, confused, "Why would they have us traveling now? If there's a sandstorm coming?" She noticed him frown and run his fingers through his hair at that, before saying:

"They probably just want us to get here as soon as we can. They know I hate waiting."

They arrived at their destination late at night, a rather large, expensive-looking house. Of course, that was what she was used to, but the thought of living in it on her own with another person― a husband, that was shocking. Reality had finally hit her. She'd been sold off in the name of peace to a foreign land, married to a man she barely knew, and been forced to leave all her friends and family behind, in a completely different country. She didn't know their customs. She was lucky that all the countries shared a common language or she would be even more lost.

Sakura had never felt this alone since her parents died.

She stayed stony faced, managing to control her emotions, smiling and nodding at Sasori's statement of how this nice house was a wedding present for them from his uncle, until they got to their bedroom. She lost control. She could hear Sasori sigh, not out of pity or empathy, but out of exasperation. He moved over and held her as she cried into his shoulder, tears streaming down her face. He awkwardly patted her back, and it dawned on Sakura that he was probably just as confused and worried as she was― after all, he was only one or two years older than her. That sense of solidarity she could feel between them made her feel better, and she pulled away.

"Thank you," Sakura said, looking up into his eyes. He raised an eyebrow.

"What are you thanking me for?" he asked.

"Well― I mean, you probably feel the same way I do! Confused, scared, unsure, anxious. ." she trailed off. But her eyes, her eyes were filled with hope and understanding and solidarity and―

He laughed. He let go of her and laughed and the look in Sakura's eyes changed to confusion and worry and fear because what was happening? He finally stopped laughing and stared into Sakura's eyes and she could see him now, now for what he really was― cruel. She felt her gut twist. He cupped her chin in his hand, and began to speak, his voice lacking the charming edge it had before:

"Let me explain this to you, Sakura. I hope you catch on quickly― I really do hate waiting― but you're a bright girl, and I think you will." He moved in closer to her. She could feel herself shake a little. "I really don't care about you at all. But since we're forced to be together, I expect you to be an obedient little wife and do what I tell you to do. I expect you to respect me. Don't forget why you're here. Any questions?"

Her jaw dropped. She couldn't think of anything to rebuke him with. All she could feel was rage and anger― at her family, at Sasori, at the world, at everything. How could they put her through this, send her to live with some misogynistic selfish creep.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" she hissed. He ignored it, and instead, inspected her wedding dress.

"You look good in traditional clothes," he murmurred. "I think you'll be wearing them more."

He finallly moved away and began putting on pajamas. She didn't move. "You might want to get ready for bed. Undoubtedly you're tired. It's been a long day."

"You mean― we're not. . We're not going to. ." Sakura stammered, her face turning red, not sure how to say it.

"Do you want to?" Sasori asked, glancing back at her. She blinked. She hadn't expected that sort of answer, not with his spiel from before. . But when she thought about it, she realised that no, she really did not want to do anything like that with some chauvinistic asshole and that the only reason it had come into her mind was because she had been told it was something she had to do.

"N-not really," she said, surprised by her sudden realisation.

"It's not worth it unless you actually want to," he said. And with that, the conversation was over. Sakura changed into her pajamas and they went to sleep in the same bed, still almost complete strangers.

Her feelings of loneliness came back with a vengeance.