(13 years ago)
Sakura made tea for herself. She pinched her nose with her tissue as she continued to sniffle. She rubbed her hand over her belly because, for some ungodly reason, it just felt so empty. Empty, just like the apartment now that Naruto had moved out to live with Gaara. Empty, like Sasuke's eyes nowadays. Empty like the carry-on she should've been packing all week. Empty… everything was so damn empty.
It's been a year since Itachi died. Things had changed and they continued to change. But Sasuke and Sakura remained at a standstill−him, avoiding; her, enabling. He had been self-medicating and she had been his drug of choice, and it was only in those moments when he let her fuck him senseless that he lowered his walls and let her in.
The door to the apartment they had all to themselves opened and she felt her chest squeeze at the sight of him. There were dark circles under his eyes and his cheekbones seemed sharper from how much weight he lost. He paused by the open door, looking at her like he forgot he shared the apartment with anyone else. Then he stared at the tea, emotionless and passive, because who would drink tea in this heat? But at the moment, the drink made her feel better−it soothed her stomach and calmed her nerves, dulled the ache in her soul. He raised a brow at her.
She shrugged. "I just feel like shit." She'd been feeling like that lately, but today she felt shittier than usual. It must be some kind of side-effect, she thought, absentmindedly clutching her stomach.
He sank into the seat next to her, smelling heavily of whiskey. That's what he'd been smelling like lately, and that's what he usually tasted like. She curled against him and breathed in. The smell of whiskey was starting to smell like home−she paused at the thought (one, it was a toxic thought that enabled his alcoholism and two, she didn't believe in the word home yet).
"Sasuke, we need to talk," she murmured softly against his neck.
Instead of answering, he turned to her, hovering as he lowered her onto the couch. He kissed her fiercely, hungrily, once she was lying underneath him. Her breath hitched and she turned her head to the side to break the kiss. But that didn't stop him and she had accidentally only given him more access to her neck for him to place open-mouthed kisses on. "Sasuke, stop," she breathed out, holding him by the shoulders.
His eyes narrowed and he was almost growling when he reclaimed her lips. He attacked her, assaulting her lips violently, so aggressively that she thought he would kiss her mouth off. "I−" she tried to speak past his tongue slithering into her mouth. "I want to−go see−Itachi!"
He froze, his whole body tensing right above her. She cupped his face to forcibly press his forehead against hers before he could rip himself away from her like she was scalding him. She didn't deserve this, she knew. She didn't deserve to be on the receiving end of his anger. She didn't deserve to be catapulted into this messed up, highly-toxic, shit of a relationship. But she couldn't leave him. Because she knew who he was before and she knew she somewhat kinda-sorta loved that boy and she knew that he was still there. Maybe it was a corrupted way of thinking, but he had done the same for her… before.
"I know what I am to you… I know I'm just some kind of release, an emotional punching bag, and I don't deserve any of this−" she saw him open his mouth, like he was about to shout at her, but she cut him off, "−no, let me finish. I deserve better but I stayed because I care about you. Because you're my brother's best friend. Because I don't know exactly what you are to me, but you are so, so important and it hurts me when you're hurt. Because you're you; you're one of the strongest, most resilient people I know and when I see you so broken, it makes my whole being ache! And if I go without doing this, I'm gonna end up worrying about you all the fucking time, so I… I'm doing this for myself just as much as I'm doing it for you. Because if I know you're okay, I could at least have a good night's rest. So please, let me help you."
.
There were flowers on Itachi's grave when they arrived. Flowers she'd left the last time she visited him. Sometimes she would talk to him, other times she would just sit on the grass and stare at his tombstone. She came at least once a week and Sasuke hasn't been since the day they lowered the body to the ground. There was something rather intimate about him coming back.
He brushed his knuckles against the soft stone. This was his brother now. His anchor, his hero, the one who had his back through it all… reduced to a slab of rock and left to rot in a box. She saw his knuckles turn white as his hand clamped down at the edge. "Sakura, it hurts."
She stepped towards Sasuke, just close enough that he could touch her hand when he reached back. "It's supposed to hurt," she reassured him. "It's okay that it does."
There was a sound. Strangled, grating, guttural, almost animalistic. It was something caught between a sob and a scream. Then he fell to his knees. One palm pressed against the dates that marked the life of his brother, while his other hand squeezed hers so tightly she thought her fingers would break. He started shaking then, violently, like he was going to shake his skin off of his bones. And the sobs followed soon after. He didn't lower his walls that day; they collapsed around him. His fortress crumbled down and he was defenseless.
She clamped her free hand over her own mouth, and she shook as she tried to fight off her own sobs. Sasuke Uchiha, who had always been an intricate puzzle from the very first time she met him. With his biting remarks and soft, loving touches and deadly glares. He has always been a man of few words, expressing his emotions through actions as best as he could. But seeing him then, his crumpled figure wracked by sobs over and over again, she realized that his emotions consumed him from the inside out.
He cried for what seemed like hours, and they didn't speak even when both of their tears have dried. It wasn't an awful silence though. It almost felt like absolution.
He sat on the ground, staring into empty space while she picked on the grass. He laid down with his head on her lap and she combed her fingers through his hair. He slept and she traced the angles of his face with her fingertip. He slept and she imagined him tomorrow, when she was gone. She wondered if he would go back to their apartment and waste away, or perhaps he would come back here? She knew this didn't solve everything. He wouldn't recover just like that, in the blink of an eye and a snap of a finger and buckets of tears pouring from his eyes like a waterfall and sobs that left his voice hoarse, but it was a start.
He slept and she talked to Itachi.
When he woke, there was a gleam in his eyes, a light she hasn't seen in so long. Her heart fluttered at the sight of it. She didn't realize she'd been crying until he reached up and wiped a single tear away. He sat up then, and took her hands in his, gently. Gently, as if he knew how much he hurt her when he'd clutched her hand like his whole life depended on it. Gently, as if he knew how much he hurt her, period.
"Sakura, I…" he started, but hesitated. For over a year, they've been communicating with their bodies. If anything was ever said between them, it was always trivial little things, nothing that ever actually counted for anything. They've been so primitive that words have become so hard to utilize. "I…" he tried again. His brows furrowed, frustrated at himself. "I'm sorry."
"I'm sorry for what I've put you through," he continued. "But you should know you weren't just… release. It was catharsis, but… it was also more than that."
He grabbed a fistful of her hair, the way he always did when he wanted to kiss her so deeply that she felt it stirring her soul. But he didn't kiss her then, just looked at her like it was the first time he really saw her. It reminded her of the very first time they did it, of the first time they crossed the line from acquaintanceship to something unnameable. "You're my family."
You're my home, she wanted to answer. But they were words she couldn't say out loud because they were words that felt awkward on her tongue. Nevertheless, they were words that rang true in her heart.
"I'll visit you in Suna, every now and then."
"I'd like that."
She decided then that he didn't have to know about what happened that morning. He didn't have to know about the pills and her almost-nonexistent sorrow and the sinking feeling in her chest. He had just finally allowed himself to mourn Itachi. For the first time in a long while, he looked like himself again, and she didn't want to take that away.
She decided then that he didn't need to mourn the loss of a baby he would never hold.
