Author's Note: Originally part of a discontinued-at-this-time SasuSaku fan fiction, The Life of a Lesser God.

Interlude I

Summer nights in Konoha were hot and uncompromising. Tonight was another scorcher, close to ninety, and she was feeling every uncomfortable degree of it. The sheets had been stripped off her bed entirely, leaving the mattress bare. Even so, it provided little relief. The small bowl of ice water she kept by her bed had quickly become lukewarm, the rag lying in a damp ball beside it. Slowly puffing the air from her lips, Sakura stared restively at the ceiling, one bare arm thrown over her forehead. Errant strands of her hair stuck to her skin, dark from sweat.

God, wouldn't I give for a nice meat locker to sleep in. She suddenly found herself envying the town butcher. That guy had an entire walk in freezer to himself, the lucky bastard. Sakura idly wondered if she could pay him to let her spend her nights in there, no never mind the dead animal carcasses hanging from the heat must have killed off her brain cells. She was feeling jealous of frozendead animals. When would this heat spell end? Considering it had been like this for the past several weeks, there didn't appear to be an end in sight. She hissed a curse and kicked both of her legs out, frustrated. Thank goodness there wasn't a mission to go on tomorrow. After this sweltering night, she knew she would not be able to function the next day. Not that she could accomplish much in this weather.

It would still be nice to get some sleep though. Sleep prevented her mind from wandering down the paths of memory she had forbidden herself from. The ones that made silent tears slip out from the corners of her eyes, soaking her pillow. The ones that no matter how she fought managed to wrest control and dominate her mind.

It had been more than two years since he took to the road, more than two years since he had slain his brother and vanished into obscurity. In his wake, he had left behind nothing but a ragtag team of players that had called themselves Hebi who had answered to no one but him. They too, over time, vanished into the same vacuum he had, disappearing as if they never were. Every attempt to summon him home had come to failure. If asked why, he gave an inscrutable "no" and if anyone tried to force him, he fought back with an unforgivable amount of fury and hatred.

Sakura, perhaps inevitably, wound up being the only one out of all who had been sent after him in those early days to get some kind of concrete answer. He had waited to get her alone, katana to her throat, close to her ear, before he told her calmly and clearly his reason for not coming home.

"When I told you I was done with Konoha, I meant it," he told her, so close, his heated breath tickling her neck. "I'm finished with my past. There is nothing you can offer me, Sakura."

"That's not true…" she had murmured back, closing her eyes to contain the tears before opening to meet his, dark and depthless. Finally, here and now, she could say what she had been longing to say to him. "What I offered you before, I offer you now and I offer you always. You say your bond with us is done… but it's not true. Not as long as one of us feels something for you, Sasuke-kun. Not as long as we think you're worth it… and that will always be for only us to decide."

She remembered the muddled shock and rage he had thrown her then, as if she had said the cruelest, most impossible truth – and she had. He had tried it then… to convince her to give up on him. He had gripped her head, fingers carded through her hair, twisting the strands tightly, almost ripping them from her scalp. He had pressed the kunai against her skin so hard blood ran down her neck. With his Sharingan he had plagued her mind with horrific nightmare images. But none of them worked. None of them caused her steely gaze to falter from his. He had left her with a choked curse before fleeing. She let him go that time. If she had known it was the last time she would see him…

Sakura sat up and planted her feet on the floor. Enough. Time to stand in front of the freezer.

Getting up, she went into the kitchen and opened the freezer door, letting out a contented sound of pleasure as the cold air flowed over her. It wasn't the walk in freezer of her fantasies, but it would have to do. She reached in and grabbed an ice cube from one of the trays, running it over her face, her neck and chest after she pulled down her nightgown. Crossing her arms over herself, she prepared to pull it over her head.

Someone tapped on her door.

Sakura gasped, by reflex glancing at the clock on the wall. Who on earth would be calling for her at two in the morning? Medical emergency probably. It had to be really bad then, she widened her eyes as she made herself decent by pulling on a robe, though she hated to do it. Oh God, not tonight…

When she opened the door, she stood stock still, letting it continue to slide open until the door bumped gently against the frame, bouncing back slightly. Her hand was over her heart, her foot stepping backward, her other over her mouth. Her green eyes were round and wide.

This had to be a dream… or else the beginning of one of the worst kind of nightmares.

"Sasuke-kun…" his name left her lips in a whisper, as if she were afraid to speak it.

It was he, sure as she was standing there. His clothes were worn, well traveled, his hair was the same mess it always was and his eyes were as cold as his expression was blank. A knapsack hung over one shoulder, the end of his katana stuck out from behind the other. Sweat clung to his skin and his hair. He smelled of earth, dust and ashes. There were shadows under his eyes, worrisome shadows that only served to highlight the pallor in his translucent skin. He was probably malnourished, judging from his sallow coloring. His frame, while lean and wiry, seemed thin and strained. No injuries, at least.

"Sakura." It was a statement. It was all it took for her to snap out of her dream-like reverie to the reality at hand. Sasuke was here. But why?

If he intended to say more, she didn't give him a chance. Despite the likely danger of getting so close to him, Sakura obeyed the impulse to embrace him. Drawing back after a breath, she cradled his face in her hands, pushed her forehead against his, twined locks of his coarse hair between her fingers. Throughout all, he did not move, save his eyes, which closed against her touches. When she drew back, he opened them then, gazing down her with the same expressionless look he gave everything he gazed upon. He lifted a hand to cup the side of her face. In the heat, it burned her skin like a brand. What did this mean? Now, though, wasn't the time for an interrogation; she could tell he was not here to answer her insignificant questions. That was not the kind of person he was.

So he stayed with her. For several days, she was the only one who knew about his return. He spoke little, ate his meals quietly and slept like he hadn't slept a wink in years. There were times he would conk out for a whole day. While she was away on a mission, she came home to find every dish washed every thread of laundry clean and the whole apartment dust free. His few indulgences were reading books… any book. One day he was reading through some of her medical texts, the next he was perusing her trashy romance novels (she had to glance at him twice the first time she saw him at it, to make sure she wasn't hallucinating). All throughout, she did not ply him with the questions she so desperately wanted to ask, for fear of breaking this spell, of driving him away again.

So she bided her time. She made him tea in the mornings and a few of his evening meals when he would let her. For those few days, Sakura basked in the bliss of his presence. Sometimes she would watch him as he would read or contemplate the wind moving through the leaves of the tree outside of a window. Watch the play of light and shadow on his face.

And she wasn't the only one doing the watching. Several times Sakura caught him watching her, if only out of the corner of her eye. Maybe while she was washing dishes, pruning her house violet or perusing her medical scrolls, she would catch him staring at her. Of course, he would immediately direct his gaze elsewhere if she turned her head to capture his eye. Several times she had to bite her tongue or lip to keep from laughing aloud. It was a comfort to know the resplendent and perfect Uchiha Sasuke failed miserably at… whatever this was.

Finally, on the sixth day since his arrival, she cornered him (sort of, he was sitting on her easy chair reading a scroll) and demanded that he tell her why he was here. She had just returned from a mission and was at the end of her limit. Somehow the sight of him sitting there like that for the umpteenth time drove her off the edge.

He watched her steadily for several moments, measuring his response carefully. "Am I still worth it?" he said suddenly.

Sakura wavered, caught off guard. "Still worth…?"

"Your offer," he said patiently. "You don't remember," he concluded, sounding somewhat bitter yet expectant.

Completely perplexed, Sakura blinked several times and gradually sank down on the ottoman in front of him. "No, I mean, yes, of course I remember. But what does that have to do with anything?"

"I would think that you of all people wouldn't need me to have to explain myself to you."

"Sasuke-kun," she spoke quietly, feeling so lost so weary she couldn't even summon up the strength to scream at him. "I'm not sure I know you anymore. How can you expect me to decipher your cryptic statements? You're going to have to tell me, because I'm not sure I can trust what's going through your mind right now when I can't even be sure of my…"

In the middle of her babbling, he abruptly leaned over her, one hand on each side of the ottoman and pressed his mouth against hers. Forgetting her fumble for words, Sakura immediately surrendered, moving her lips in time with his. Her hands came to rest on his shoulders stroking his neck, jerking as she felt his hands run up her sides and then down. He pulled her to her feet and she went with him, mouths never parting. They kissed until she was certain every part of her body was barren of feeling and mobility. If he decided to throw her down on the rug and have his way with her right at that moment, she knew he would never have had an easier victory. However Sasuke drew back then, inches away from her shuddering lips, his eyes playing over her features, her face. If he broke her now, he would kill her. She knew it and he knew it. So when she said it, she knew her fate as far as this man was concerned, was sealed.

"Yes."