Little by Little: Scenes of Life

Standard disclaimer is applied, dear readers!

By: neon kun


Scene Four: Opposites, like ink and paper

Summary: He's a writer, she's a painter: both were great friends; childhood friends; best friends. They were a contradiction. conveyed their feelings indirectly—neither aware. On impulse; on conviction—It didn't matter why or when or how because that's their perception. And that's their friendship— and of their love.


"Sasuke kun, may I have some of your ink?" Sakura, with her innocent pleading eyes, her pink tresses tied in a humble ponytail, accentuating her naiveté, asked. "I ran out of them."

The said man, whose head with raven locks, spiky signature, glanced up at her but not before letting out a grunt of annoyance— irate that he, the forever epitome of petulance, was disturbed while at the brink of his seriousness. Glimpsing somewhat at the bottle of ink he was currently using, he handed it to her. And there it goes—his ink. The last one and he reminded himself to buy some later.

"Thank you!" she grinned, her cheerful mood and gratified atmosphere lightened his damp one, and he couldn't say no after that. She left his study soon after, closing the door gently and to his living room.

It was how they work—that great significance in each other's toil, they embrace.

On their own, wanting their privacy yet at a place where each other is near their grasp.

It is how they are—and constantly felt at ease and secure.

The next day, he bought another bottle of ink—two this time. Just to be safe, he told himself. Sakura always seems to borrow his and he finds it too tedious to say no. He couldn't anyway, difficult to believe as it may be, but it was how things were. No, was too much for him to say to her. The last time he did, was hectic. Tears, drama, sobs and such and everything and it would be too much for him to handle once more. It was the first and last time.

He was halfway done when someone—he was perfectly aware as to who it was—hugged him from behind, saying a muttered, "boo," but still held an enthusiastic vigor that only she was capable of showing at the same time. At that, the bottle of ink was knocked down, spilling on his worksheets. "Damn," he cursed involuntarily, as the ink sprawled all over the desk, tainting anything on it—especially his work—further.

"Oh, oh, oh no!" Sakura yelped, quickly pulling the bottle upright, spoiling her fingers with black ink as well. Her eyes bore anguish, fear and anxiety. He could do no more but to sigh, and so he did. She was always the clumsy one.

They were opposites like good and evil.

And as the sayings go, the good conquers the evil. He tolerated her and to his annoyed revelation, he didn't find it too challenging, either.

"I'm sorry," she said over and over and over again. The raven haired novelist merely grumbled in response and added a grudging, "It's fine," interrupting her strings of apology. She blinked back the tears. He abhorred seeing those, too. "It's fine," he repeated, hardening his tone to show emphasis to his meaning.

"But, but…" her lips quivered. She was scared. Inwardly sighing, "No buts, it's all right," he said and after a while, appended, "Don't cry."

And she hugged him tight. "I'm really sorry…" she said and with a slight smile, tears still visible, she uttered words of gratitude.

"What did you want?" he asked, swiftly diverting her away from the topic. He acted nonchalantly, as if he wasn't bothered about her maladroit blunder. However, in his judicious mind, he was already pondering on how to mend his work.

"May I have some ink?" she spoke. Her voice was crystal clear, he noted. "I ran out of them."

More or less, he was aware that that was what she would say and ask for.

"Hn," he rummaged through his drawer and pulled out the spare ink he bought for her earlier that day. As he handed it to her, she shook her head and grinned knowingly. "You need it more than I do, Sasuke kun." She explained and pointed to the used bottle that spilled beforehand. "I'm nearly done with mine so I'll just take that," the pink haired lady took the container and smiled apologetically. He recognized her meaning and nodded.

She apologized for always being a burden.

She apologized for committing an error and ruining his work.

She apologized for disturbing him.

She apologized for always taking his ink because she couldn't leave her room, yet. (Being married to one of the highest ranking of the Uchiha family has many restrictions and she was not allowed to leave the room—their suite—without her husband for the whole year and for the next two years after that, she was consented to leave the room but not the mansion without her dear partner. Only after those three painstaking years will Sakura be permitted to leave on her own will without her spouse. Tradition was strictly implemented in their family)

But most of all… she apologized for his part: that he had to marry her.

She loved him; all of them were conscious of it but that was it. Because she felt so much affection for him, she was in pain—for she believes that she was not good enough for him. They were best friends for as long as they could remember—and she had such a sharp memory (she could remember a moment in their life when they were just two years old)—and they were engaged to each other. Sasuke wouldn't object and Sakura couldn't, even though she attempted to. He stopped her just in time so she wouldn't end up humiliating her family and being shun away—from being disowned (such was the way of aristocrats in their days), however, he couldn't tell if it was the right choice or reason. The first thought was, I don't want her to say no, and he didn't know if he was being selfish for wanting her and lacing that desire with petty excuses that she—he agonized—saintly accept as true. He knew her whole trust was his for the taking and he took advantage of it. She judged herself too much, and at times, he wonders, when they both lay side by side every night and he's unable to sleep, where has her energy and confidence go?

He shook his head; he'll think of it later, at the moment, he had to finish his work. "Are you okay, Sasuke kun?" her voice penetrated his thoughts—

Always, always that voice of her blended with worry and concern.

"Ah," he nodded. She smiled at him once more—

Faux smiles that reminds him of her grief.

Sakura turned to his desk and arranged all the papers smeared with ink, smearing her hands as well—

And he thinks, is my blackness of heart staining her purity? As she continues to delve deeper into his person while guilt persisted on his heaved chest, heavy and looming feelings…

Pulling out her handkerchief, she cleaned the table with what she could. Only tarnishing it further, she left the room and into another and came back seconds afterwards with her handkerchief dripping wet. She continued to wipe the table and as she finished doing so, took another cloth and placed it on the table openly and positioned the dirtied documents on it.

But he couldn't let her go. He, so selfish, and she, so selfless.

"Thank you," his voice was smooth. "You're welcome," she replied and turned to leave. He could distinguish the ink that had spoiled her once peach-colored skin, now, pale, as she was cooped up in their room—suite—while he had to leave as much as he does not wish to. She halted in her steps and went back up to him and kissed his cheeks. "Good night." And she left his study.

He sighed and allowed the smallest of smiles grace his lips.

He was finally done with his novel—the first draft. He usually had little mistakes only and the editing and revision would mean adding only bits of details but other than that, it was already completed. Uchihas were just that high-quality and talented. He noticed that he had some ink left. Silently contemplating, he decided to give it to his wife. He assumed she was still awake since the light in the living room was still open. The light was seeping through the small gap under the door of his study which was connected to the said room.

Standing with that innate poise and grace brought by his family's genes, he took the bottle and headed towards the door, supposing that she was still working on her self-proclaimed masterpiece.

Sasuke felt confident knowing she was just a door away, that amidst all that had happened, guilt and pains, she was forever there beside him—just there to hold him, just there to guide him, just there to be his light. And he couldn't be more thankful.

Entering the living room, he observed the place. The hearth, leaning on the wall, taking up more space than any item present, center spot. Frames of paintings and pictures covered the walls occasionally. A coffee table was neatly located in the middle and a large red velvety sofa and matching divans at each side. He could feel the carpet under his bare feet.

The young prodigy noticed his wife lying on her side on the couch. Pieces of papers and canvases with faintly visible smudges of ink on them were scattered all over the coffee table. The Uchiha patriarch approached the table, intent on looking at her works and possibly, arrange them as she did with his. She stirred abruptly.

"Mm… Sasuke kun…" she yawned, moving a little but not getting up.

"I'm finished with my writing."

"That's great," she smiled sleepily, her voice held that cheery intonation that he, more often than not, speculates where it comes from. Sasuke could sense the room filled with raw cordiality and a sincere character that was only present every time she was there. "Me, too."

The artist, embodiment of cherry blossoms, curled on her spot like a child he could always see in her. She squinted, her gaze hazy due to slumber. "You don't mind me sleeping here for the night, don't you?" she asked and stifled a yawn.

He shook his head in amusement, "You live here, Sakura."

She giggled weakly, smiling embarrassedly. "Oh," she grinned at him as enthusiastically as she could in her drowsy state. "Yeah…

"Well, good night, Sasuke kun."

And she let sleep take charge, effectively averting her humiliation. Sasuke let it dismiss, anyhow. Effortlessly, he organized her things on the table and saw her masterpiece. At that, he couldn't help but give in—another smile came into view. It was a painting from ink (his ink), catching the emotion in it (it was her talent, he reckons, that she could capture the image and likeness of anyone or anything she paints and draws—the passion and feelings). It was a black and white painting of him; from his head to his shoulders with the slightest smile adorning his thin yet perfect lips. There was a note written at the side of the canvas, as well.

Ye heart, forever will thy hold. Essence of you, eternally will I treasure—my one and only. I love you, Sasuke kun.

And he, as her best friend—the person she loves, is her Sasuke kun and he knew— comprehend that what she felt was more than idolism—it was more than that.

They were opposites like black and white yet somehow, in someway, they were still together; forever loving each other.

They were opposites like night and day.

Maybe the saying, 'opposite attracts' is truer than anyone had ever thought. They were the very quintessence of it.

They were opposites like ink and paper…

And yes, they were two different essences, two different kinds of people but laced together, they are but one real meaning…

"I love you, too, Sakura. I love you, too."

And no one can oppose to that.

Scene Four: End.


AU! Meaning: OOC. So understand that fact—because that's the point. But I should've warned you earlier.

Anyway, finished with the fourth drabble. This isn't supposed to be a drabble, really… And I've just finished this today. It's hectic… I haven't edited it yet so beware—I will, though, after Christmas.

Reviewers: CherryBlossoms38, Darkmoon1025, Confuzzled239, angel2559–he's currently thinking about it, Heartless Ghostie, little sasuke kun, ctc13love4mommy, LoNeLy-GiRl14, shi hime, Kawaii IceCream–do you think it's cliche? I haven't read much SasuSaku that involves pets, so... I don't really know. Thanks, though. SakuraUchiha14, Bored Konoha Kunoichi–It's one of those rare moments we cherish–'cause it's rare

Thank you so much–wow, you got plentier. I feel so touched. XP I'm very grateful. If it weren't for you guys, I might've just torn this collection down, just like my first one. If you want me to write something–give me a theme and I'll do my best to see to it.

MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE! And a HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Sorry for the grammatical errors and typos
I hope you've enjoyed that.
PLEASE REVIEW!
neon kun