The Time Being
pt 8: roots
"Your hair is so long now," Ino said, over a quiet dinner at Sakura's apartment. "Are you sure you don't want me to cut it?"
"It's okay, Pig," Sakura said, moving the food around on her plate.
"I'm going to miss seeing that forehead of yours," Ino said, voice bright, but she wasn't eating either.
Silence fell, and the food grew colder. Hime leapt onto the tabletop and pestered Ino for affection.
"Ino." Sakura took a deep breath. "Can you tell Tsunade-shisou and Kakashi-sensei not to worry?"
Ino touched Sakura's shoulder. "Of course I'll tell them."
The next day, Karin knocked at the door, carrying a traveling pack. Inside was a stack of Sasuke's clothes, neatly-folded with uchiwa fans facing up.
"I know a lot of his things must already be here," Karin said. "But I went by his place, and I thought you would like to have these."
"Aren't you coming?" Sakura asked.
Karin wrinkled her nose. "Jugo's found his calling. Suigetsu's students are pretty needy, and they cry a lot as it is. There's also my research. If I leave, I just know someone will ruin my samples." She looked out Sakura's window. "I think this village needs us now. We'll watch over it for you both."
When she visited Naruto, Sakura spoke directly, for his sake.
"I'm leaving, and I don't know if I'll be back," she said, hands folded on his kitchen table.
Naruto's eyebrows knit together. His features were built for joy, and Sakura did not know how to react to this sober expression.
"You're wearing the dobe's shirt," he protested quietly, staring at the floor. "Don't you want some of mine?"
Sakura let out the breath she was holding and sorted through his closet.
"Don't take that one, it has a stain…ouch!" Naruto cried, as Sakura crushed him in a hug.
"Ogenkide," she whispered to her friend. Be well even if I don't see you.
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The news broke on the sixth day. Uchiha Sasuke had abandoned his mission and once more cemented himself as a rogue nin. He did not even make it to Suna.
Whether he had made the choice, or the mission's absurd structure led to his failure, Sakura didn't know. The village had what they wanted.
For weeks after, Anbu agents followed her, Team Taka, and Naruto around the village. Sakura would wake up in the middle of the night at the slightest sound––the sink dripping, Hime purring. Her chakra never ceased boiling under her skin, prepared to fight at any moment. But after it became clear Sasuke was gone, and would not attempt anything rash, the Anbu vanished.
Sakura worked without rest to establish her pediatric center. It might be her last contribution to the village, and she wanted to do it right.
A year passed before the center was built, staffed, and operational.
Sakura packed her belongings, mostly her selection of Naruto and Sasuke's clothes, and did not request a leave of absence. She said her goodbyes.
One task remained. Sakura visited the square on her way to the village gates. Facing the council building she built, Sakura understood her mistake. It was impossible to coax deep-rooted, corrupted things to grow into a more pleasing shape. It was better to tear them from the soil and start fresh.
Murmurs of creaking wood filled the night air. The council building ungrew, shrinking back to the earth. In the morning, the citizens of Konoha discovered a tree marking where their government was once seated. This was Sakura's parting gift.
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As Sakura resided by the ocean, a young Sasuke appeared, again and again.
First he attacked her, then he pestered her with questions. Finally, he did not want to be around her at all. In the same moment he slipped into her home, he was already moving to slam the door on his way out.
Months passed and Sasuke's visits remained as consistent as the tides. Eventually his anger cooled to resentful acceptance. He did not even bother to punish her door. Sakura grew used to the sight of him sulking outside the house.
Beyond her long hair, Sakura made no effort to hide the uchiwa fan adorning her back. The answers to Sasuke's questions were obvious, if he cared to look, but he was blinded by pain and anger. Even if she told him the truth, he would not believe her.
One night Sakura awakened with a flash of movement outside the window. Sasuke knelt on the beach, curled over himself, shoulders trembling. The sound of his splash as he dove into the ocean broke the quiet of the night. Despite the fire and lightning in his blood, he plunged into the water like he couldn't breathe without it.
Sakura pulled the comforter from her own bed and walked down to the shore.
Sasuke trudged onto the beach. Without meeting her eyes, he accepted her offering. Soaking wet, the blanket comically large around him, for once he looked his age. The water had washed away all his defenses. A tired boy remained.
In his own world, Sakura did not know if he slept well at night, if he ate enough, if he stayed warm. When he accepted her blanket, she shivered in relief. At least in this moment, she ensured he was not cold, and alone.
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Sasuke finally accepted her tea, so Sakura knew it was the last time she would see him.
"You know what this is—why this is happening. At least say that much."
Today, he might understand. Sakura decided to answer. "Yes. I know why this is happening."
"How do you know?"
"I know because you told me."
The crease between his brow softened. Sakura bit her tongue to keep from crying, Don't you see? All this time, it's you I've been waiting for.
"Sakura––" he said. As her name dropped from his mouth, he took a step closer to her own Sasuke.
He slipped away. Sakura's role was over. The rest was his to uncover.
Hime darted down the path. Sakura squinted in the sun. A dark-haired figure bent to scratch the black cat between her ears.
The wind ebbed, and the waves quieted. Even the seabirds were no longer crying.
Sakura rose. She thought she would run to meet him, but her feet were roots anchoring her to the earth. It was all too dreamlike. If he were to turn on his heels and depart down the path, Sakura would not feel a thing. She would keep waiting until she dissolved into sand and seafoam.
Sasuke tilted his head to the sea. "Do you mind if I wash, first? I've come a long way."
A breeze picked up, rustling Sasuke's clothes, lifting Sakura's long hair.
"Take your time," Sakura said. "I'll be here."
Sasuke dropped his belongings where he stood. On the beach he undressed and dipped into the waves.
When enough time passed, Sakura brought him a change of clothes. He emerged from the waves without concealing his bare body, and Sakura did not look away. He dried off and pulled on the fresh clothes. Matching uchiwa fans winked on their backs.
He pulled her close, the spell broken. His skin was damp. Sakura buried her face into his neck. Tears came slowly, then they racked her body. She shuddered with a year's worth of sobs.
Sasuke traced her spine. "I'm sorry, my love," he whispered. "It seems I've kept you waiting again."
When Sakura kissed him, he tasted like salt.
All her waiting was done. She and Sasuke were once more illuminated by the same sun, swimming through the same pool of time.
.
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In the southernmost tip of Fire country, there was a beach where two rock formations rose from the water. A weathered house perched by the shore, next to a long wooden dock housing a rickety fishing boat.
Seasons did not change in the south, so there were other markers of time––how many repairs Sakura performed on the house, how many seashells Sasuke added to the mantle of the hearth. They trained on the beach every morning, because old habits were hard to break. Tomatoes grew especially well in the loamy soil of their garden.
It was a peaceful life. No one knew where they were. No one was looking for them.
"What are you thinking about?" Sakura asked, sitting on the edge of the dock. A black-tailed gull alighted next to her, peering at their catch of the day.
Sasuke was staring at the blue sky, his long hair tied back. "I haven't slipped in a long time."
"You look a lot like you did, when I first saw you," Sakura said. "It could happen any day now."
"One last trip, then."
Sakura could not say why, but she was certain of this, too.
Sasuke tilted his head back. "The last time Itachi and I saw each other was a day like this."
Sakura watched waves roll under the dock. In a quiet corner of Konoha, a tall stone listed the names of each slain Uchiha. No stone bore Itachi's name. He had no resting place, no marker to commemorate his existence.
Her hands quietly shaped the familiar signs. A column of wood rose up the side of one rock formation. Branches stemmed from the main trunk, sprouting foliage. Like training the limbs of a fruit tree into orderly lines, Sakura twisted and curved the branches into the shape she envisioned.
The image of a raven in flight grew into the rock face, a relief of stone, branch, and greenery. Cliffside sculpture, honoring not six Hokage, but Itachi, and all the souls sacrificed in Konoha's name.
"It suits him," Sasuke said, reaching for her hand. "Do you ever think about the village?"
"Yes," she said. "Every day. I wonder if anything has changed."
To her surprise, Sasuke smiled. There was a familiar glint in his eye.
"You know something. Don't you?"
"I know something," he said, "though it took some time to understand."
He whispered it in Sakura's ear.
.
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When Sasuke received the Rinnegan, his stomach dropped as if he had skipped a step. On one end of that feeling, he faced a god. On the other end, he was standing on a hilltop, gazing at a Konoha he did not recognize.
The Hokage mountain was a wall of green. Trees grew straight up the cliffside, a vertical forest. Foliage and vines hung like a curtain over the Hokage faces. Here and there, the corner of a mouth, the center of a large eye, a colossal tuft of hair, poked through the vast greenery. Sasuke wouldn't describe many things as beautiful, but the word came to mind.
A dark-haired young woman with glasses joined him on the crest of the hill. She had a delicate chin and a toughness to the bend of her spine. Sasuke remained silent. He could tell, by now, when someone was expecting him.
"We added to the monument," she explained, following his gaze. "It wasn't right to destroy it. It's important to remember. But a lot has changed. This isn't a place that carves faces into cliffs, anymore."
"You're not Sakura," he said.
"No, I'm not."
"Who are you, then?"
"Sarada."
He remembered this name from a dream.
"Uchiha Sarada," she continued.
Sasuke frowned. "Prove it."
Sarada drew in a deep breath. A wave of heat scorched Sasuke's face as she exhaled the signature fireball jutsu of the Uchiha clan. Flames larger than the crowns of trees licked the air, but none of the surrounding grasses were set alight. She possessed a fine control over her chakra that he had only seen in one other person.
The flames receded. "I can activate my Sharingan if you like," Sarada offered, touching a finger to her chin.
"No need," Sasuke said, smiling. Her eyes reminded him of Itachi's. "I see it."
He slipped back to fight alongside his teammates. To shape his future.
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fin
this story is about two people finding each other. it's about trusting in yourself and in your heart. it's about doing the work to shape the world and the future you want-and at the end the ocean will be waiting.
thank you to:
––theredconversegirl and myr_art whose work first introduced me to the concept of time travel sasusaku
––my partner who spent hours close-reading every sentence so it could become a better story
––my friend di for her endless support and enthusiasm for everything i write
––every single person who has read and ever will read this story. even if you're reading 5 years in the future, please leave a comment so I can thank you for following along this journey with me! (and let me know if the pandemic over yet?)
and that's it! thank you, thank you, thank you!
roya