Crumbling
Summary: Sakura could only stare as her world fell away. Alternate Universe, study in real life situations. Sakura centric, not Sasu/Saku.
WARNING: It's almost over, and I'm going to break my self-imposed 4,000 word limit (AGAIN) for the last two chapters. Why? Because if I don't, I'd need a third chapter, which is really superfluous at this point.
Sakura's birthday is March 28th, in case y'all forgot.
An anonymous reviewer commented that Naruto was worse than Kiba for keeping it a secret. Honestly? If someone told me something like that about a loved one for the sake of earning something in return, I'd consider them scum. Someone who kept it from me because they believe they're protecting me is a misinformed friend, not an enemy. Doesn't mean Sakura would forgive him, though. Naruto has a lot to make up for.
My favorite reader, 'im ur misconception', has to have broken some sort of record for reviewing EVERY SINGLE chapter. She has not missed one. There has to be some sort of prize for that kind of dedication. Hot damn, that's ten reviews in a row. I'm beyond words by now.
'This is no sea of mine. That humbly laves
Untroubled sands, spread glittering and warm.
I have a need of wilder, crueler waves;
They sicken of the calm, who knew the storm.' – Excerpt from "Fair Weather", by Dorothy Parker
Chapter Ten
Crueler Waves
It's been raining for the past couple of days, but both Sakura and Gaara insist on taking Taiki for a walk. Ino couldn't be bothered to expose herself to the elements even for a friendly goof like Taiki. As they were having dinner later, Ino accompanies them to the park nearby, siting in a gazebo as she watches them complete their circuit. Due to the rain, they avoid running, but instead walk with the puppy between them, protected by the large umbrella. Ino stares with mild interest, Sakura's shoulder facing her as the round on the opposite side of the park. A voice hails the blonde and Ino looks up, bowing in greeting when Kakashi ducks under the low roof to join her on the bench. They're celebrating the young doctor's birthday a few days earlier just between close family, the larger party held next weekend on the 31st.
"How much longer?" Kakashi asks, jerking his head in his niece's direction.
"Half-hour, at most. I think this is their third turn," Ino says, to which Kakashi nods. Still rather young, Taiki can't exactly run as much as Sakura's training would demand. However, due to the weather, she'll have to make do only walking the five kilometers that Taiki needs to be calm and sensible at home. Kakashi has never been much for small-talk, so he simply leans against the bench as he watches the rain. Ino grins at her friend as they pass in front of her, wriggling her fingers to show she can wait for them to finish. Something arrests her attention as they pass her by, this time with Gaara's shoulder pointed her way.
Ino stands, peering through the rain to make sure she saw what she thought she saw. Kakashi looks at her curiously when Ino sits back down, her expression a mask of awe.
"What is it?" the ex-SF asks, mostly because he knows the blonde too well. If she wanted to tell him, she'd pester him until he showed interest. Asking her makes him feel more in control of her unpredictable temper.
"Did you get a good look at Gaara's shoulder? His left one, I mean." Ino asks urgently, a note of surprise in her voice. Kakashi shakes his head, raising a brow. This is what has her so excited? The redhead's shoulder? He wonders if perhaps their vacation back in September didn't scramble Ino's brains. It's been over six months since then, and Ino's still nitpicking Gaara's behavior. Kakashi wonders if he should have just stayed in the apartment after delivering the food.
"His shoulder was wet," Ino shares conspiratorially, as if it's supposed to mean something.
Kakashi's stare and voice is bland, "It's raining."
Ino favors him with a look that somehow informs him he is very, very stupid. "Sakura is perfectly dry," Ino says, with the patience of someone who has explained the same thing, in great detail, to an idiot. "Gaara, who never has a hair out of place, has a wet shoulder while Sakura is totally dry. Gaara, the stuffy lawyer who yelled at you for moving the Legos he left at your place one centimeter to the right. Gaara, whom I've never seen in PJs, despite the fact I've seen him at all hours in the past year and a half. Don't you see?"
"I don't see," Kakashi responds blankly, wondering if this is the perfect moment for a strategic retreat.
Thankfully, Sakura and Gaara arrive just then, shaking the water off of their umbrella. "We're done. Ready to go?" Sakura asks, offering Ino a hand up. The blonde takes it daintily, like a princess, before strutting ahead.
Ino unfurls her umbrella and finds Kakashi already at her side, as though he'd always been there. His eyes dare her to banish him from under the bright blue umbrella's protection, but Ino merely waits for Sakura and Gaara to walk ahead of them.
She walks the whole way to Sakura's apartment, glaring suspiciously at Gaara's wet shoulder as they pass. To her amazement, the umbrella continues to drip onto his sweater, making an even bigger water mark. Jabbing her elbow repeatedly into Kakashi's abdomen, making the older man groan, she points excitedly. At last, Kakashi zeroes in on the blemish, surprised. In all his time with the redhead, he'd never seen him disheveled or imperfectly dressed. His image all this time has been impeccable. Even their paintball excursion had ended with the redhead free of stains from the dirt, grass or paint. Kakashi's eyes narrow and he shares a speaking glance with Ino.
They walk into the apartment, and Ino stops dead in her tracks, staring at something she has never seen before. "What's that?"
Sakura looks up, catching sight of the thing at the other end of Ino's accusatory pointing finger. "It's a plant, Ino, what else?"
"It wasn't here before," Ino states, circling the small bonsai with pretty pink blooms budding shyly on it's beautifully arrayed branches. Kakashi looks closely at it, too, noting it's a peach tree and not a cherry as he'd initially thought. It rests over her coffee table, looking vibrant and lively. It crowns the room, freshening the air with a sweet scent.
"Gaara gave it to me," Sakura says, putting down her umbrella as the redhead dries Taiki's paws and fur with a green towel. She holds out her hand for Ino's umbrella, leaving both by the door to dry without staining her hardwood floors.
Ino whips around to look at the lawyer, who shifts his shoulders as though in a shrug. She narrows her eyes at him as Kakashi pulls out the take-out boxes he'd brought with him and put in the fridge for freshness.
All throughout dinner, Gaara's poise is just the same. He doesn't speak out of turn and he doesn't do anything uncharacteristic of him. Ino and Kakashi watch him closely as they munch on their sushi, hawk-eyes trained on the lawyer's every move. Sakura mostly carries the conversation, chatting happily about how her mother's condition at the hospital has improved. Ino, who has mastered the art of multitasking, has perfectly timed comments and expressions that keep the conversation flowing smoothly.
As neither Kakashi nor Gaara have ever much added to their dinner conversation, their silence is unremarked by either woman. Gaara dips his sashimi into the soy sauce and eats delicately, savoring the flavorful fish Kakashi had bought from a restaurant nearby. Everything is rather as normal, and Ino begins to relax her vigil. Though his willingness to get wet for her best friend is a rather curious tell, it's not enough for Ino to draw any kind of conclusions. She'd noticed a change since September last year, but nothing concrete. Her mouth thins into a bloodless line, wondering if she should create a situation where Gaara will have no choice but to give himself away.
As she devises a plan, Sakura rises, picking up the dishes. "I hate washing," Sakura says with a laugh, pushing her hair out of her eyes as she drops the cutlery and plates into the sink. "But I hate drying the most."
During her married life, Sakura had been almost entirely responsible for the housekeeping of her home. She cooked, cleaned and did the laundry; Sasuke had grown up in an environment where everything was done for him. It was almost a surprise to learn he could actually dress himself (even if he didn't know how to tie his own ties). In those months when they had been married, Sasuke had not once moved a finger to help. Though Sakura ultimately enjoyed doing chores, putting on some music and singing while she relaxed about her home… the one thing she'd always hated was doing the dishes. The plates would accumulate, plates she herself had not once touched, simply climbing and stacking in her sink, bacteria building up during those days she couldn't make it home and had to sleep in a cot at the hospital. She'd come home after a long while away to a sink that stank to high heavens, and she would wash them all alone. To add insult to injury, she didn't have a drying rack, so she would wash and dry each plate on the spot.
Ino looks up, knowing this is a sore spot for her friend, and both she and Kakashi move to rise. Before either one of them is on their feet, Gaara is there, taking the rubber gloves out of Sakura's hands.
"I'll do it," he says quietly, gesturing for her to take a seat. "It's your birthday party."
Sakura smiles, and takes the gloves back. "I wash, you dry?"
Gaara nods, handing her the dish soap as he hunts for a towel.
Kakashi and Ino sit together at the table, aghast.
Both of them have been invited to Gaara's apartment in the past. Unlike Sakura, who is something of a slob until the better part of her gets to cleaning, Gaara's kind of a neat freak. It could also be due to the fact the redhead is rarely even in his apartment, spending most of his time in his office or in Sakura's apartment next door. Still, despite his absence, his apartment is neat and dust-free. Ino can tell he's careful and enjoys keeping his environs clean.
They'd never seen him do it, of course. (They have enough fun imagining him in an apron with his hair beneath a kerchief and a duster in his hands like a sword.) And though he eats with them more often than not, he'd never offered to do the dishes.
It's March, it's raining; Ino and Kakashi are pretty sure that love is in the air… even if it's a month late.
Temari adjusts her posture as she finishes the last of her drink, and before she can even raise her hand to ask for more, a waiter is at her elbow with the champagne. She smiles, tucking a bill into his neatly starched vest, before turning her attention back to her brothers. On her left, Kankuro is reading a book in the shade, completely engrossed. Temari would have found this endearing if she didn't know he reads this book every year in the fall since he was fifteen. Gaara is making laps in the pool, completing his seventh set in the Olympic circuit. Temari watches him carefully, marking his progress and, on the last leg of his tenth turn, she orders him a bottle of water. The waiter scurries, and comes back with a bottle of water, a glass with ice and lime, along with a neat snack of flavored ice for herself and Kankuro.
"Compliments of the chef," the boy says, before bowing and making himself scarce. Though he's been making an effort to be useful, there's a limit to how much you can suck up to the owner of the Keio Plaza Hotel before you get your ass fired for being a nuisance.
Kankuro merely sits up, delighted with the treat. "Sweet!" he crows, already stuffing himself, book forgotten.
Temari rolls his eyes at him, extending the bottled water to Gaara as he makes his way towards them. He snatches the bottle and opens it, slinging a towel over his shoulder as he downs half the contents. The rest, he pours into the glass, settling down in the lazy chair on the other side of Temari. He sets to drying himself in the shade, squinting at the sky as the sun begins its climb into high noon.
"Good swim?" Temari asks, more for the sake of making small talk than because she's interested. Gaara doesn't even bother answering beyond a simple nod. Fussing with the towel, he lays it down before settling over it, closing his eyes as the heat of a surprisingly hot autumn day begins to thicken. Temari hadn't planned on staying out here for very long, as the staff tend to close the pool whenever she deigns to visit it. Today, though, she needs every bit of privacy she can get. Her body guards are standing inside, blockading the entrance to the outdoor pool with their bulk. Out here, there is only the two waiters and the bartender to overhear. Now that their drinks are completely taken care of, both waiters and the one barkeeper seem to have vanished into the kitchen. She's glad the staff understand her needs.
"Gaara, we need to talk," Temari says, idly watching the bubbles that still remain in her flute glass despite the minutes that have passed since the champagne was poured. This is some damn fine champagne, she thinks, and decides to order a champagne fountain in the bar later. More people should try this one… her teal eyes grow speculative.
"About what?" Gaara says after his sister falls into silence, sharing a look with Kankuro over her shoulder. Temari's been public speaking since before she was ten. That she should falter or pause in her words is a perplexing thing.
"About Hatake Sakura," Temari says, taking a swig from her glass. Gaara, who had been reaching for the glass of water, nearly drops it.
Giving her a puzzled look, he grips the glass with more surety. Though he doesn't run the financial side of the hotel, he prefers not to add to the list of costs that surely already plague this place. Plus, it would get Kankuro on his ass for destroying one of the limited-edition glasses they had bought for the hotel. He takes a drink, confused and staring at his sister over the rim.
"You've just come back from a vacation with her," Temari remarks, and Gaara is already less attentive. If she's going to talk about things that happened only a few weeks ago, he's not interested. "And I've noticed something different about you."
Here, Kankuro freezes mid-stuffing his face with his flavored ice shavings. His eyes climb upwards curiously, watching Gaara carefully. All three Sabaku siblings inherited their father's great intellect, though Kankuro is said to look the most like his father, to the point that his eyes are a green so dark, they look black. They've played enough strategy games to know Gaara's the most analytical, with Temari being the most persuasive and Kankuro the cleverest. Temari always chooses her words carefully, and Kakuro knows this is one battle of wills he needs to pay close attention to.
"What's so different?" Gaara asks, his voice a mask of vague interest. Kankuro's mouth twitches upwards, amused. If his little brother is pitching his voice with care, there must really be something.
Temari eyeballs him like one would a stray cat, as if whether to feed him or kick him. She crosses her arms and takes a delicate sip of her wine. Gaara tracks her movements like a hunter and Kankuro considers changing seats. He really wants to be able to see his sister's expressions! The tension in the air is palpable.
"You've been more active with Sakura," she says factually. "You've shown greater interests in her affairs and those around her. Hell, you've even paid some of her bills for her."
At this, Kankuro's eyes nearly fall out of his skull. Though Gaara is the main inheritor of the Sabaku fortune (namely, their lands, their properties and their hotels), he's always been something of a miser with his money. Not once had he seen the redhead go out of his way to even pay for a team dinner or give a cent to a homeless person. If one would look "thrifty" up in the dictionary, Kankuro had once thought it would come with a picture of his little brother for reference. Even the tabloids mock him as too humble for his means, tearing him to pieces for being such a careful spender despite his enormous fortune. Kankuro himself has a beautiful apartment downtown, while Temari actually lives and pays for a room in this very hotel. The eldest Sabaku siblings give as much as they get, but Gaara is a hoarder with his cash. In his tween years, Kankuro had once fantasied Gaara as a dragon that simply laid atop his gold, growling at any who came near.
Kankuro nearly squeals at the idea that his baby brother could be in love. Isn't this great? It takes barely a second for him to imagine the grand wedding, already planning which of his fashion designer friends to call for the suit and dress. The wedding hall would have to be beautifully decorated but planned to match with the bride and groom's insanely colorful hair. Oh, they really clash, don't they? No matter; with a good blend of gold, purple, green and white, he could work around it.
Of the three Sabaku siblings, Kankuro has always been told he's the artist. A law major has no business setting up a carpentry shop, but Kankuro had never actually wanted to go into law. It had merely served him well and his father had approved. Now, with their father dead, Kankuro focused far more on his carpentry than his law practice. An interesting case or two would bring him to court (fashionably, like Sherlock Holmes nitpicking his cases), but he devoted most of his time to the creation of fantastic wood-workings.
Mid-fantasy, his delight crashes and burns when Temari blandly denies Gaara his love.
"You have got be kidding me, Gaara," Temari snorts, "You will stop that nonsense at once."
Kankuro experiences an existential crisis for his brother, actually thinking he should murder his sister for trying to make their little brother's one and only love a Romeo and Juliet affair.
Gaara seems to have no such murderous compunction. If anything, he's frustratingly calm. His older brother flails, inwardly demanding some respect for the Sakura-Gaara shipping he's been subjected to only to be denied. He ought to find a law against this.
"Why?" Kankuro re-thinks his little brother's calm. There's an edge to his voice the oldest Sabaku male has not heard since the days he'd been committed.
"Because," Temari explains patiently, swirling her champagne before downing it in one go. "Your little pink haired ex-client is my employee. Not only that, her divorce was only finalized a few months ago, from the dreaded Uchiha. What do you think the public will think of her? She's only just been promoted to Professor at Konoha General Hospital and she's being considered for a place on the board. You dimwit, what do you think will happen? People will accuse her of being a slut. They'll say she only got promoted because she slept around with the right people. That since she couldn't use Uchiha might against the Sabaku family, she switched to the right man of power to advance in the ranks."
Gaara blinks, as though this only just occurred to him.
"I need her on the board," Temari says, for once letting her emotions show. There's a note of pleading, as though she's had this argument many times. "People who know her to be competent will turn on her. Her life will become a high school drama because people are idiots. The tabloids haven't left her alone once, and that one time Sasuke tried to accuse her of sleeping with you during the case left a deep precedent. It was proven untrue, but the truth isn't what matters to the public."
The redhead lets the thought sit, before shaking his head. "I won't decide for her."
Temari stares at him, stymied by this apparent non-sequitur. Kankuro peers over her shoulder, trying to get a good look at Gaara's face.
His expression of almost pouty concentration nearly makes Kankuro laugh. Something in him files that expression away for another time. He'll have to paint it and gift it to Sakura, because she's the one who brought up this beautiful comedy gold.
"Sakura is the woman I love, not the public," both elder Sabaku siblings half-choke at his straight, pull-no-punches declaration. They hadn't expected Gaara's affections to be that strong at all, and his lack of reserve is like a punch to the gut. "If she wants to be with me despite the consequences, that's her choice."
He nods to himself, settling back down on the towel for a nap.
"I've always given her a choice," he says softly, closing his eyes.
Temari and Kankuro share a look before staring at their little brother with mixed expressions of pride and exasperation. Trust Gaara to push past all the bullshit and whittle it all down to the bare basics.
When Temari raises her arm for more champagne, the waiter magically appears, as though teleporting through space. He pours the light gold liquid into her wine flute, before offering Kankuro a flute glass of his own, which the prosecutor takes with a relish. The elder siblings make a silent toast for the happiness of a beloved little brother and sink into quiet contemplation.
The afternoon goes on comfortably.
Bundled up warmly, Ino and Sakura exit the car to enter Isetan. It has been raining heavily for the last few days, and Kakashi wouldn't let them leave his house without at least three layers of clothing. After Gaara had made a point of bashing Ino's indoor décor to get to his client, the girls had been making an excellent situation out of a bad one. Both of them had been crashing at Kakashi's house for weeks, having a prolonged sleep-over party. Wanting to be rid of them for the weekend, Kakashi had pretty much punted them out of the house. As such, the girls had ended up at a department store, ready to browse for all the new and shiny things they would bequeath Sakura's fancy new apartment.
Their first stop is a brightly-lit underwear store, as Sakura's few rescued underwear are having a tough time after so many washings. Since her escape from Sasuke's apartment (one she refuses to refer to as "home", even in her head), Sakura has had a limited supply of clothes. Ino had done her the favor of fetching a few garments, but Sasuke had refused to relinquish the bulk of her things. He had told the blonde that either Sakura should come and get them herself, or she'll have to fetch them once the divorce is finalized. Considering how the idiot had gone and slapped Sakura silly the last time they'd met, Ino had not been too keen on sending her friend for more clothes. Instead, they'll have to shop. Which is, of course, Ino's very cup of tea.
Sakura looks through the multi-colored underwear, fingering the soft material disconsolately. The last time she'd gone shopping for things like this, she'd been a blushing bride-to-be. Mikoto and Ino had been with her then, cooing over the various styles and proposing outrageous suggestions for what she ought to wear on her wedding night. A large tower of undies is pushed into her hands, which Sakura catches on instinct.
"Those should fit perfectly," Ino snaps, her eyebrows raised. "With your tiny tits, you shouldn't even have to wear a bra." Sakura bristles at this, but a glance at the pile of bras and panties in her grip reveals that Ino had gotten her size dead on. Ino throws her hair over her shoulder and leaves the establishment, reminding her they still have more places to go. Sakura smiles and heads on to the check-out counter, dropping the entire load before the clerk.
"All of these, please." Spotting a cute color of lipstick her friend might like, Sakura adds it to her purchases. "This too."
The shopping trip must go on!
Having looked through a few clothing stores and bought Ino her cake (as payment for her consultation as a personal shopper), the girls head off to the dreaded furniture store. It would be the biggest hit to Sakura's expenses, but both girls knew that there's nothing for it. Though Sakura had pitched in for a few of the items in her apartment shared with Sasuke, most of the furnishings had been bought by the Uchiha Corporation. As such, Sakura doesn't even have a mattress to her name. Thus, as she is to let the room next door to Gaara's, she must buy furniture.
She stares moodily into the store, nearly ready to bolt back to the comfort of the trinkets on the fourth floor. Ino's grip on her arm is her anchor, and the blonde smiles bravely for her friend. Ino leans in and whispers conspiratorially, "how about we get something modern, instead of that stuffy traditional bullshit the Uchiha gave you?"
There's nothing wrong with traditional, but Ino knows Sakura had always hated tiptoeing in her own home around priceless antiquities and delicate wood-workings.
"Yeah," Sakura responds, glad her friend had volunteered to come (had been volunteered, per the demands of one Hatake Kakashi in need of personal space).
The girls thus prowl the store, looking at prices, jumping on sofas, and sighing happily under the kotatsu the staff irately activate for them. Sakura puts together a color scheme of woods, cloths, and leather, trying to piece a 3D picture of her new apartment with each different item. Borrowing a piece of paper, Sakura makes a little model of her home, and draws potential combinations for her one bedroom, bathroom, living room and kitchen. Ino shoots down the most fanciful of her ideas, shooting down a few based on the sheer size of the pieces Sakura chose.
"If it can't fit through the doorway, you can't have it, you goof," Ino reprimands her, leading her away from the bed that could fit a thousand dogs and still have elbow room.
"But… my army of dogs!" Sakura wails, in tears as she is forced to give up on her dreams.
Five hours pass by the time Sakura is able to place her full order to one very annoyed body of employees. Ino smiles as her friend signs her contract and walks off; leaving Sakura wading through another hour of paperwork as the staff check her bank records, her credit history and her salary. As she's placing a large order, it's customary they check she can afford it. It takes nearly two hours for the store to greenlight her order and for Sakura to finish the bulk of the paperwork, writing down the address where they are to deliver her things as soon as they are available.
Ino returns, humming to herself as she tucks the receipt into her purse, grinning from ear to ear.
Sakura turns and stands, bowing toward the staff gratefully before the friends depart. They've been battling against the adversities of shopping for too long and they've decided to leave the plates and cutlery for another day. Instead, Sakura invites her best friend for an early dinner.
"What're you smiling about?" Sakura asks suspiciously, side-eying the blonde's Cheshire grin with some caution. A smirking Ino can be either a very good, or a very bad thing.
Tucking her arm through Sakura's, Ino cuddles against her friend's shoulders. "Oh, nothing," Ino says, fishing ice cream for her purse to hide her smile behind the sweet.
"Let's go get that dinner, eh? We can come shopping for the rest another time," Ino says, nodding to the sign directing them to the seventh floor. Sakura pauses as she sees the rest of the businesses alongside the restaurant, but Ino pushes her forward. Isetan bride is a famous locale and though her wedding dress had been designed especially for her, Sakura hadn't even been near a bridal salon since her separation from Sasuke.
"I love looking at brides," Ino confides as they ride the elevator up two floors, "but you know what I love most?"
Sakura shakes her head as Ino leads her toward the restaurant, nodding toward an elderly woman sitting on a sofa within the bridal salon, waiting for the bride to be revealed from behind the curtain.
"I love looking at the people who accompany the bride," Ino says, smiling at the older woman as wonder lights up her face at the sight of the blushing bride-to-be. "Look at her, the bride is having a princess-moment, but that woman is living the best day of her life."
Ino turns her friend around, staring into Sakura's watery green eyes as they stand at the doors of the restaurant, still in view of the old woman happily complimenting the girl in that beautiful white dress.
"I lived that moment with you, you idiot. I was that lady over there, I saw you in those billions of dresses and I loved you in them." Ino grins, and it wobbles as both friends are close to tears. "You gave me that precious moment and I will never forget it. So, don't look away; because when you were a bride, you had more people than some asshole at the end of the isle looking at and loving you."
They grip hands, strong and with enough love to crack a mountain. When they were children, they had sworn to be friends for life. Now, each of them in silence repeat that vow, smile, and head into the restaurant for dinner.
Sakura gives her blonde friend an exasperated glance, annoyed with Ino's ability to look inside her mind and know her thoughts. She would swear to whatever Gods there be that Ino is a mind-reader. Ino merely hums to herself and fingers the receipt in her purse, outlining her purchase of flatware, cups, bowls and cutlery for four people in heartland green. Something in that dreary apartment ought to give it some color, Ino thinks, hiding a smile behind her hand.
Preferably something that perfectly matches her best friend's eyes.
Sakura shoots her another assessing glace, and Ino sticks out her tongue. Together, they dine in relative peace.
It's so cold, Ino's bundled like an ice-climber, burrowing into her fashionable white coat. It's only late November, but the weather has gotten icy. Still, Sakura had insisted on buying some dumplings for everyone along with some soup for lunch. The Korean store a few blocks from her apartment sold an amazing cow-bone soup that even Gaara enjoyed, so both the young doctor and her friend had trooped out in search for lunch. Gaara waits for them a few blocks back, walking alongside Taiki away from the restaurants. Sakura's up at the counter, smiling as she orders for the entire family, chatting up the nice Korean lady.
Though the shop's warm, the smell of kimchi is so overpowering, Ino excuses herself. Sakura waves her away, paying for her order. Ino follows the sound of excitable barking and finds Taiki straining at his leash to jump on a cat. Gaara stands completely still, not even jerking to the strong pulls on the leash. Ino smirks and snaps her fingers, bringing the large German Shepherd to heel. Taiki sits with his long tail wagging, smiling up at her with his tongue lolling. His breath is coming out in a smoky fog, a testament to the cold.
"You were helping Sakura," Gaara says, eyeing her with something like disapproval. Ino ignores the rebuke, kneeling to pet the one-year-old puppy's smiling face. "Soup is heavy to carry."
"Fine then," Ino says, grabbing Taiki's leash. "I'll keep watch on the monster. You go help."
Gaara gives her a powerful glare, but the blonde ignores his childish stink eye. She tosses her hair and tucks deeper into her coat. He shakes his head minutely but walks off. Ino blinks when she realizes he's gone in the wrong direction, but by the time she pulls her voice together, he's vanished into the moving crowd. For a cold Sunday afternoon, the streets are chock-full of people. Ino pulls the black scarf Sakura had knitted for her in high school higher up her face, kneeling to wrap her arms around the shaggy dog. His long coat protects him from the wind, but Ino can feel him shiver a bit. She hugs him a bit tighter, reasoning that Sakura can always pay to have her coat dry-cleaned. The dog welcomes the embrace, cuddling shamelessly.
A warm can is suddenly shoved at her face, nearly making Ino tumble backwards onto the street. "What?"
Gaara stands there, a warm can of coffee in his hand as an offering. "Here," he says, jiggling the can lightly for emphasis. Ino stares at it, uncomprehending for a moment, before she reaches out for it. The redhead snorts, rolling his eyes eloquently. He turns, but before he can leave, Ino calls for him.
"Hey," the blonde says, rubbing the can between her cold hands. Her eyes rise speculatively toward the lawyer, the deep blue stark over her black scarf. "Why don't you propose already?"
Gaara pauses to look at her over his shoulder, turning slowly. Ino watches him before speaking again, true curiosity coloring her tone. "It's been over two years since they separated, and more than a year since the divorce. What are you waiting for?"
Gaara stares at her mutely before shrugging one shoulder and walking to the restaurant where Sakura waited.
Ino huffs in annoyance, opening the can and taking a sip of the hot drink. Taiki watches her, panting in the cold.
"Both of your owners are morons," the blonde hisses, before planting a noisy kiss on the very deserving dog.
Itachi stands at the door, resisting the urge to fidget under Gaara's stare. The Uchiha cannot rightly say that the redhead is glaring, but there's something menacing in his eyes that keep Itachi from barging inside.
The cool air brushes against his cheeks, warming them to a natural blush. Still, the lawyer doesn't budge from his place blocking Sakura's door.
"She doesn't want you here," Gaara finally says, making a shooing motion with his left hand. Itachi's brows furrow as his patience begins to wear thin.
"I've been calling for weeks. She hasn't answered my calls at all," Itachi explains, taking a step forward.
Something in Gaara's face changes, even as his expression remains the same. Itachi freezes, like prey under the watchful eye of a predator. Gaara's green eyes flash in the sun, and for a moment Itachi imagines they've turned an eerie shade of gold. His voice is steady, with an underlying growl that makes goosebumps rise on Itachi's skin.
"That would be self-explanatory." Gaara deadpans, "Leave, Uchiha."
Itachi's hands clench into tight fists, almost shaking with his temper. He tries, in vain, to keep it under wraps. Gaara looks down and smirks, making it the final straw.
"Either you get out of my way, Gaara, or I make you." Itachi hisses between clenched teeth, his red eyes near swirling with anger.
Gaara steps outside, closing the door behind him. He crosses both arms over his chest, a clear warning of a beating yet to come. Itachi might have a longer reach due to his height, but Gaara had been fighting taller men since he was ten. He cracks his neck, his eyes steady.
"Try me," he invites, keeping his arms crossed.
Itachi steps back, considering the narrow hallway. Though he has a longer reach, the size of the hallway is to his disadvantage, welcoming a much closer tussle and most likely bringing Gaara under his guard. He might be able to beat him with superior speed, but something about Gaara's posture shows an incredibly strong defense. Itachi analyses him, and sighs in annoyance. Gaara may be crossing his arms, but his entire stance screams impenetrable shield. Itachi would be lucky to even land a punch.
The Uchiha sighs, running his hands through his hair. Gaara doesn't relax his guard, eying him warily.
"Could you at least tell me what's wrong?" Itachi finally mutters, looking defeated.
It's Gaara's turn to sigh, putting both hands in his pockets as he looks off to the side.
"A man named Inuzuka Kiba called," Gaara says, his eyes slanting toward Itachi to gauge his reaction. From the way Itachi tenses, Gaara can tell the Inuzuka might not have been lying. "It seems your bribe could only keep him quiet for so long."
Itachi stands in the hallway, stunned. He blinks rapidly, mind racing as he tries to find any kind of solution to this very impossible problem. He'd never intended for Sakura to find out the entirety of his involvement in Sasuke's poor sexual habits. He'd done everything under orders of his mother, whose desires he could never deny. Still, Hatake Sakura is his only true friend. He had done everything his mother wanted, but he could have at least given her a tiny hint. He'd been sworn to secrecy on it, unable to tell his dearest friend. In a move completely uncharacteristic of him, Uchiha Itachi had not questioned the wisdom of his mother's strategy.
His dark eyes rise, heavy with sorrow. "She knows everything, then," he whispers, looking heart broken.
Gaara stares on, completely unmoved. "Yes."
"She wants nothing to do with me?" Itachi tentatively asks, already fearing the worst.
With a disgusted turn of his lips, Gaara remains mute on this point. He knows Sakura too well by now. She'll rage for a while, before finally facing Itachi. She'll either forgive him or banish him entirely. It's not up to him to decide. Sakura never runs from her problems, she runs through them. For now, while she nurses a broken heart, she needs her space.
"Give her time," Gaara finally advises, shrugging one shoulder. "If she forgives you or not, that's her call."
Itachi's head snaps up, a ray of hope finally presented to him. "Do you think she will?"
Gaara opens the door to the apartment, deftly catching Taiki's collar as the dog tries to greet the stranger at the door with a bark and a bite.
"I don't care."
He shuts the door with a decisive slam.
Temari had called him over fifteen minutes ago, receiving him at the door before leading him up a few flights of stairs and over a dozen different hallways before reaching large double doors after crossing an overhead pass of pure glass from the main building onto a secondary building. Gaara eyeballs his sister steadily, wondering what is happening. Since she'd called him over, she hadn't said a word, instead gesturing for him to remain silent as she had him follow her across her hospital.
"In here," she says, gesturing toward the double doors. Gaara raises an imperious brow and presses through the doors leading onto the second floor. What lays before him surprises him, staring almost openly at the wide, gym-like space filled to the brim with different machines he can recognize from a time way back when. He stands on a small section of balcony protruding from the wall, with a set of stairs that leads out both sides to the ground floor below. Probably due to the different sizes of the machines, they had expanded the first floor into the second floor, with a wide balcony on the other side with rooms full of exercise paraphernalia like dumbbells, weight balls, handle weights, yoga mats, colorful ropes of all sizes, mirrors, metal bars and what appears to be a refreshment bar.
"It's a rehabilitation clinic," Temari whispers against his ear, so her voice won't carry to the nurses, patients and doctors carrying out exercises in the room. Among them, Gaara can spot Rock Lee, a friend of Sakura's since childhood. He and the young rehabilitation coach had met during the famed paint-ball trip Sakura had invited him to. Lee's forceful personality had somehow come attached to a person with such thick skin that Gaara's usually abrasive nature had not been enough of a rebuff. As such, the two of them had hit it off, especially after…
"You hired Lee?" He asks his sister, proud that his voice isn't wobbling. When his hand touches his left shoulder, Temari lays her slim hand over his. Her teal eyes soft and understanding, overlapping pain hidden in their depths.
Gaara's naturally defensive strategy stutters at that look, and his voice softens. "You did good, he's got the ribbons to prove he's the best in the country."
"I know," Temari responds, but doesn't take her gaze off of him. Gaara manages to smile and drops his hand. Temari moves her grip to his shoulder, touching the stiff muscle that covers several metallic pins from where the medics had to reconstruct his entire shoulder when he had been six. Due to the lack of such clinics in Japan at the time, Gaara had grown up living in hospitals and rehabilitation clinics overseas until he was ten. At sixteen, his father had him committed, but upon turning eighteen and his father's subsequent death, Gaara had been "re-introduced" to the world. Kankuro and Temari had been right there for him, a support and helping hand to stabilize him until he graduated from law school and took over the firm. Kankuro had only been too grateful to leave the firm in his little brother's more capable hands, while Temari had allowed him to move out of her apartment with a fond smile.
"This is why I needed Sakura on the board," the eldest Sabaku reveals, letting her brother go to turn and look upon her greatest achievement. "She's our only runner, you know? The only one who runs marathons. When her attendance to the Paris Marathon next month was confirmed, the marketing team couldn't get enough of it. And her qualification to the Boston Marathon a week later just about had them fainting on the spot. You know what she did? She demanded sponsorship, equipment to train and a rehab center. She said that there are so many more Japanese athletes representing the nation. She even got the winter Olympics team involved. I didn't know she personally knew Shoma Uno and Hanyu Yuzuru."
Rubbing her nose as a mild blush runs over her cheeks, Temari smiles sheepishly at her youngest brother. "I've been planning for this expansion for years, but the board never approved. They thought a rehabilitation clinic would only be a waste of money. But thanks to Sakura, now we're official Olympic sponsors for the winter teams. Did you see the banner out from with Yuzuru's picture? We're getting so much more exposure and even foreign athletes who live in Japan are popping up to use our machines on this or the third floor. The pool on the roof just takes the cake, because the Olympic summer team has decided to use it as often as possible. Akiyama, your favorite fighter? He comes here every other week for a swim and a cool-down therapy. Sakura has a whole room to lecture and teach other runners! Hell, she even got a room for CPR lessons for adults, children and infants. It's crazy."
Gaara steps toward his sister, bumping shoulders with her. He stares out at her hard work in wonder, briefly thinking what it would have been like for him if all of this had been here all those years ago. He would have gotten to grow up around his siblings, he would share so many more memories with them. He wouldn't have been left all alone in a foreign country, unable to speak the language or communicate. Unable to relate the experience that left him broken, unable to tell people of what his uncle had done to him. No adult to tell him everything would be fine, that what Yashamaru had done was not love, but horrific.
"This is all thanks to her; all of it," Temari admits with a little laugh. Gaara thinks about correcting her but doesn't want to ruin his sister's good mood. "This building was designed for VIP clients, but the investors had been unsure about going all-in on that plan. When Sakura redesigned it with Rock Lee's help to be the best rehabilitation clinic on this side of the globe… when she got Yuzuru to sign on... Hot diggity damn, little brother."
Temari grins, slinging her arm over his shoulder. "Marry her already, Gaara."
Gaara smirks, shaking his head at his sister's constantly changing opinion. "Show me this pool you're so proud of."
Sarada toddles out of the car as Sasuke holds the door open for him, juggling the many bags he'd brought from his now empty apartment. The servants rush forward, taking his burdens from him as he opens the trunk and gestures for them to get everything. One of the maids picks Sarada up, but the baby gestures wildly, calling for his father.
Sasuke swoops him in his arms as he walks forward to meet his mother near the extended porch that leads to the main hall.
"Sasuke!" his mother croons, sweeping both her son and grandson up in an embrace. "I'm so glad you're here! Your brother and I just finished making some mochi."
Sasuke chuckles, hoisting Sarada higher on his hip. "I'm sure Sarada would enjoy trying your famous mochi." His son heartily agrees, clapping his hands happily at the promise of a sweet. The mid-afternoon sun is high, lighting up the Uchiha Estate's beautiful gardens, neat shrubs, blossoming flowers and blooming trees. The glades hug the entire house, sheltering it from the city and muffling the loud sounds of Tokyo behind high walls and a leafy veneer.
The servants have been instructed to take his things to his old room, made larger by adding the room next door for Sarada's things. Used to living in the same space as his son, Sasuke insisted on expanding his space instead of finding or building another room for his toddler. Sarada, almost two years old, is vivacious and a fantastic walker. To the point that Sasuke was finding it difficult to deal with his more mobile son by himself. As a result, he'd taken up his mother's offer of coming back to live with the main family, taking shelter in the home he'd grown up in.
The scent of fresh baking tickles his nose and Sarada babbles choice words of delight, something of a lisp in his voice. Mikoto had assured him he'd had a similar lisp as a baby and had grown out of it once he had entered kindergarten. Itachi comes out to greet him from the kitchen, wearing a neat apron over his clothes, sprinkled in flour and smiling.
"Hello, dear brother," he says, pinching Sarada's chubby cheek in greeting. For the first time since the birth of his son, Sasuke hears a salutation he'd missed. "Welcome home."
Sasuke smiles, for once happy to be in the company of other people. Words he hasn't said in almost two years tumble out, with something like relief coloring them and giving them life.
"I'm home."
To be Continued…
Words: 7,790
I… I think I love Kankuro. Don't you? And Ino just… ran away from me and became the bestest best friend in the history of best friends. She works for the intelligence department in Japan, but Ino ain't the kind of girl an office can hold! She's a personal shopper on the side, because it suits her and because it's awesome.
Both times I talked about rain in this chapter, I was talking about March… but in two completely different years. Funny, innit?
If "hot diggity damn" is not a thing in Japanese, it ought to be. Shame on them if it isn't.
What IS a thing in Japanese is the "welcome home / I'm home" bit I mention. When someone lives alone, they don't hear it. Many adults who live alone say they miss it. Sasuke, living only with Sarada, wouldn't hear it said to him at all. Now that he's come home, he'll be able to hear it whenever he comes home and is greeted by a family member. It's one of those things I like about Japanese culture. They always welcome family home.
Isetan is a real shopping mall in Tokyo, of the few whose entire schematics was available to me online. As was the Keio Plaza Hotel, teehee. All athletes mentioned are real people, well known internationally for their prowess. Akiyama Yoshihiro is among my favorite MMA fighters, alongside the Korean Zombie. A fun fact about your incredibly nerdy writer.
The Paris and Boston Marathons are run both in April this year, one week apart.
Read the full poem I quoted, it's about a turbulent love where happy times are not all there is to life and love. I thought it fit, as one of the closing statements. I thought about ending it here… but I think we have time for an epilogue.