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CHAPTER SIX

A Drug for Angels

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Sakura calls out of work, goes to Training Ground Eight, and wrecks it. She infuses her punches with enough chakra that her blows split open the earth, leaving craters in her wake. It's absurd, taking out her anger on the ground, but if she doesn't destroy something with her bare hands then she is going to break.

I already loved you.

How many times did she dream of Sasuke saying those words? More than she can count. So many that she's ashamed to remember her yearning. For so long, her first thoughts when she woke and her last before falling asleep were of Sasuke. Praying he would return her feelings, analyzing every touch and look he sent her way. Searching for any clue that he might love her back, and always coming up empty.

But apparently she was wrong. As with so many things, she failed to figure out what Sasuke was thinking, because she never really understood him. She certainly doesn't understand him now.

Sakura fells a tree with one punch. It cracks along its thick trunk, lists to the side, and crashes to the ground. A hundred years of growth destroyed in thirty seconds.

What did you think I was thanking you for?

She never knew what his thank you meant. Ten years she's been turning it over in her mind, examining it from every angle and questioning her memories of that night. None of her guesses came close to the truth.

That he loved her. That he left Konoha because he loved her. Because she made him weak, tempted him to abandon revenge and make a future together instead.

All this time, she thought her feelings were unrequited. A pitiful love never returned.

But he also said it's not relevant now. As if love could ever be irrelevant.

Sakura falls to her knees, knuckles scraped and bruised, her whole body trembling.

She's tried so hard to hate Sasuke, and it's never worked. Right now, though, she can almost manage it. He had no business telling her this. She could see from the pained expression on his face and hear in his strained voice that carrying this secret burdened him. Finally confessing probably freed him in some fashion, but now the weight of it sits on her shoulders. And she doesn't deserve to carry any more of his baggage.

Sakura refuses to cry again. She did plenty of that at home this morning, and she doesn't have the energy to shed even one more tear. If it's possible to cry so much that you wring yourself dry, she's done it.

She lies on her back in the grass beside a hole she left in the ground. It's big enough and deep enough to serve as a grave.

No. She's not going to follow that line of thought.

Sakura covers her eyes, blocking out the mid-afternoon sun. Fortunately, it's cloudy and dim for a summer day, but between all the crying and the remains of her hangover, she's got a pounding headache.

The problem was never you.

Isn't that what men usually say? It's not you, it's me.

Well, not Kenji or Taro. During both of those breakups, she was told in no uncertain terms that it was her fault. Never mind that she did the dumping. Kenji said he was better off without her because she was a cold fish in bed. Taro shrugged off her accusations that he cheated with an excuse about needing to get satisfaction somewhere. Hideo is kinder and more patient than Kenji and Taro put together, but he's still a man. Eventually, he'll grow disappointed in her too.

At least she can count on one thing: no matter how cruel or unfaithful they may be, no man will ever break her heart like Sasuke has.

Sakura goes home, showers, and heals her bloodied knuckles. That night, she sleeps with the depth and thoroughness that only comes with pure exhaustion.

An alarm wakes her at noon, and she almost knocks her clock off the bedside table silencing it. It takes a minute for her to figure out why she set an alarm for her day off. Then the memory falls into place. She has a date at a new lunch spot with Hideo at one o'clock. Right.

Her head still hurts, but less now. Her heart still hurts, too—unfortunately not any less than yesterday.

Sakura rubs her eyebrows. It doesn't actually ease her pain, but it's soothing anyway. She drags herself to the bathroom to brush her teeth and freshen up, then puts on makeup even though she doesn't feel up to it. There's not much choice, though, because yesterday's crying jag left her eyes so puffy that Hideo is bound to notice if she doesn't cover them up. After her face looks halfway presentable, she searches through her closet for something pretty to wear. She goes with the cornflower blue dress she wore to Team 7's breakfast, because it's one of her nicest outfits.

And maybe wearing it for Hideo will make her feel less guilty about wearing it for Sasuke.

She makes it to the restaurant right on time, but Hideo is already there. As she approaches, she notices that the waitress at his table—a very tall, pretty woman with black hair and grey eyes—is smiling at him warmly. Her hand flutters over to his shoulder, sliding down his arm. Hideo gently brushes her away, looking uncomfortable.

Sakura hears him say, "I'm sorry, Homura. I have a girlfriend now."

"Oh." Homura backs up, her expression contrite and embarrassed. "Sorry. What can I get you to drink?"

Sakura waits until the waitress has walked away to sit down across from Hideo. He jumps a little, and she can't help but think, Sasuke would never be caught off guard that easily.

She keeps her voice light so Hideo will know he's not in trouble when she asks, "Is she an ex-girlfriend?"

"No! I mean, not exactly. We were…" He trails off, then says, "It was nothing serious."

Maybe she should be jealous, but mostly she's just charmed because Hideo is damn adorable when he's put on the spot.

"Really? You didn't strike me as the no strings attached type."

"I'm not. I mean, not usually." He shrugs, the movement more awkward than casual.

Not usually is just another way to say sometimes. So, sometimes Hideo is up for commitment-free sex.

It doesn't bother her. Actually, it more than doesn't bother her, she realizes. Maybe this could be a good thing.

"We never had a conversation about whether or not we're exclusive," Sakura says. "We probably should."

Hideo blinks, and she notices suddenly how beautiful his eyes are. Round and long-lashed, the color closer to honey than brown in the afternoon sunlight.

"Oh. Okay. What do you want?" he asks.

Sakura considers her words carefully. If she says this wrong, she might offend him.

"My last boyfriend cheated on me. Because I was busy, and I didn't have a lot of time or energy for sex. So he found it elsewhere."

Hideo shakes his head sharply. "I would never do that. If he blamed your busy schedule on him cheating, then he's a bastard. Full stop."

"I know you wouldn't do that," Sakura says. "I am busy, though. What Taro did was wrong, but I don't blame him for being lonely. And for having… needs." Needs she doesn't have, because she's broken. "If things keep going well between us, and we get more serious, then I'll probably want to revisit the issue. But for now, you can see other women. I won't mind. I mean, I don't want to hear about it, and I'd appreciate it if you were subtle, so the whole village doesn't find out."

Hideo frowns. "What about you? Seems unfair for me to be able to see other people if you don't."

Sakura doesn't mean to laugh, but she can't hold it in. "I barely have time to sleep with you, much less another man. But sure, if a miracle happens and I suddenly want to spend the night with somebody else, it's good to know you won't judge me for it."

That's not going to happen, though. Because it seems the only man she'll ever want that way is Sasuke, and falling into bed with him is out of the question.

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Sasuke keeps away from Sakura. It's simple, since she avoids him as much as possible, but simple doesn't mean easy. Every day, he thinks about their last conversation. How he selfishly told her he once loved her, which is only half the truth. The dishonest half is the kinder one, and he wishes he'd said nothing at all.

Naruto gives him shit for not trying harder with Sakura, and finally Sasuke tells him to shut the fuck up. He doesn't, of course, because he's Naruto.

Sasuke goes to Training Ground Eight the next morning, and finds his favorite spot occupied—and wrecked. Team 10 is already there, Shikamaru smoking while Chouji chomps away on a bag of chips.

Ino kicks a rock and says, "I'm gonna kill Sakura! This is the best place to practice taijutsu and she destroyed it. Looks like a fucking tycoon blew through here."

"More like an earthquake," Shikamaru says, deadpan. "A tycoon wouldn't leave craters in the ground like that."

Sasuke turns around, but before he can get away, he hears Chouji shout his name.

Ino follows suit, then yells, "Hey, get over here!"

Sasuke considers ignoring her. Anything Ino wants to say is unlikely to be of interest to him. But she's Sakura's best friend, apart from Naruto. Maybe he can figure out how she's doing from Ino, if he can angle for the information subtly enough.

When he walks over, Ino says, "I heard you and Sakura had a fight last week at Kaname's."

"You shouldn't believe everything you hear."

"Oh, I don't. But I listen when a Hyuuga tells me what they saw. They're never wrong in that department."

Dammit. Half the Hyuuga learn how to read lips as soon as they master the basics of the byakugan. There's a good chance that the eavesdropper caught every word he and Sakura said, despite how loud the restaurant was.

"It's my business and Sakura's. Stay out of it."

Ino whistles. "Someone's touchy. You always have been a sore loser."

"Cut it out, Ino," Shikamaru says.

"What did I do?" she asks, her question dripping with faux innocence. "All I'm saying is that Sakura has a nice boyfriend for once, so Sasuke should leave her in peace. It's not like there aren't other fish in the sea. Most of them with smaller foreheads than Sakura."

Fuck, not this again. Ino's infatuation annoyed the hell out of him when they were kids, and he doesn't have the patience to deal with it again now.

"Ino. I don't like you that way. I never have."

She freezes, then snorts, looking at him like he's the most precious but pathetic thing she's ever seen. "Oh, Sasuke, honey. No. I don't like you that way either. You're lucky I like you at all, after what you did to my girlfriend."

"Your what?" her teammates ask.

That might be the most attentiveness Sasuke has ever heard from Shikamaru.

"Girlfriend," Ino says. "You guys must know what a girlfriend is, since you both have one."

"Who's your girlfriend?" Sasuke asks.

Not because he cares about Ino's love life. He just wants to know who this woman is that he apparently wronged.

"Karin," Ino says, her chin held high.

Sasuke almost laughs. Ino and Karin. The two girls whose obnoxious crushes drove him up the wall. And now they're together.

Sakura's interest always bothered him so much less than Ino's. Maybe that should have clued him in to the fact that he liked her sooner.

Chouji asks, "Does this mean you're…? You know."

"No, I don't know. Why don't you clarify, Chouji?" Ino asks sweetly.

Chouji is walking on dangerous ground, and Sasuke doesn't really want to watch him get clobbered by Ino. He has better things to do.

"Are you into like, girl-on-girl now?"

As Sasuke walks away, he hears Chouji yelp, in obvious pain.

"'Girl-on-girl'? Really? Don't you dare run away!"

That's amusing enough to put him in a good mood as he practices his taijutsu at the next training ground over. Which isn't ideal, but Ino was right that Sakura's monstrous strength destroyed the best place for it.

When he considers why Sakura might have been upset enough to cause that much destruction, his good mood evaporates.

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On Saturday morning, Sakura shares an early breakfast with Hideo at his apartment, since he's about to leave on a mission. He'll only be gone for one week tops, he promises, and she kisses him goodbye at the gate.

She heads into the hospital an hour early to her shift, then stays an hour late. If Tsunade wasn't a busybody who pays too much attention to her schedule, she would have worked all night. As it is, her shishou sends her home at seven o'clock with strict orders to "get some damn sleep before I fire you."

Sakura goes home, takes a hot shower, eats dinner, goes to bed early, and doesn't get any damn sleep. She tosses and turns, searching fruitlessly for a comfortable position. Apparently she's in for another sleepless night. She could make herself a cup of tea and read until she's tired enough to rest.

Or she could go out. Hit up that grubby civilian bar she hasn't told anyone about, because her mother would be disappointed, Ino would judge, Naruto would worry, and Tsunade would give her sage (if abrasive) advice she doesn't want to hear. If nothing else, she can indulge until she's drunk enough to come back home and pass out.

There's no need to get fancy for the clientele at the Last Chance, but something about slumming it in a nice dress makes her feel slightly less cheap than when she wears casual clothes. Maybe because then she can cling to the illusion that she's too good for a place like that.

Sakura curls her hair, then gently brushes it out to make loose waves. Only light makeup, because she doesn't want to have much to take off when she gets back. She deliberates between the dark red dress she wore on her fifth date with Hideo and a little black one Ino got her for her twenty-first birthday. Even though the red is much tighter, the black one is the decidedly more scandalous option. It's so short that if she bends over at all she'll give anybody behind her an intimate view, and it's entirely backless except for the trio of fragile straps holding it up. Every time she wears it—which isn't often—she has to brush off at least three men.

Normally she doesn't enjoy the attention of strangers, but tonight, when Sasuke and his selfish confession keep creeping into her thoughts in every quiet moment, it might be nice to be wanted by men who don't know her.

She wears the black dress and her tallest stiletto heels. They're the most uncomfortable shoes in her closet, but they make her legs look fantastic. On her way across town, one man whistles, another shouts a lewd remark, and two women holding hands both do a double-take as she walks by.

Even the bartender at the Last Chance clearly appreciates the sight of her, but he's too professional to hit on a customer without an invitation.

"Lemon sour," Sakura says. "Light on the club soda and lemon juice, heavy on the shochu."

That will cost extra, but she's got the money to burn. She works far more than she spends, and a few drinks won't even put a dent in her nest egg.

The sharp citrus and delightful fizz of the soda cut through the taste of the shochu. If she doesn't pay attention, she could get sloppy drunk on these, but she doesn't intend to go that far. Her last hangover stands out too freshly in her memory to risk repeating it. She orders water with her second lemon sour, and drinks both slowly.

Someone sits on the stool to her right, and she can tell without looking that it's a man. He takes up too much space in her periphery to be a woman, and he smells distinctly masculine. Woodsy and smoky at once, like an autumn bonfire in an evergreen forest—

It's Sasuke sitting beside her. She knew his scent almost immediately. Because she learned it in the Forest of Death, when only her touch could pull him back from the darkness. Then years later, he slept beside her dozens of times, leaving the smell of pine needles and woodsmoke on her sheets.

She didn't wash her bedding for weeks after he left, not until that scent faded from them.

"Sasuke. What are you doing here?"

He nods toward her glass. "Same thing you are. If the bartender ever walks this way again."

Sakura takes a long drink. Forget water. Hangover or not, she's going to need a gallon of liquor to survive sitting next to Sasuke dressed like this.

He's not wearing anything special, but then, he doesn't need to. The years have only honed his beauty, sharpening his square jaw, lending even greater intensity to his heavy-lidded eyes. And his mouth…

Sasuke didn't go down on her that night, but she imagines he'd be good at it. There's nothing he hasn't mastered, except for matters of the heart.

The bartender returns, and Sakura is tempted to ask for a third lemon sour before she's even finished her second, but she's sure that if she does, Sasuke will fix her with that haughty, judgemental stare he's perfected. So she keeps quiet while he orders sake—the best on the shelf, not that that's saying much. Even so, it's a bit unwise for someone crashing on his best friend's couch. He must be counting on getting paid soon.

"How much of your probation do you have left?" Sakura asks.

"Two days," Sasuke says.

"I bet you already have a mission lined up. Where to?"

"I can't discuss that."

Sakura laughs. "Really? You broke more international laws than most people could name, but it's too much to tell me where Kakashi is sending you on a, what, B-rank mission?"

Sasuke doesn't show his annoyance, but she knows she's struck a nerve anyway. Not because she referenced his time as a public enemy. No, he's irritated that she pointed out how far beneath him his missions are likely to be for the foreseeable future.

"I'll work my way up the ladder soon enough," Sasuke says stiffly. "I'm too valuable an asset to waste on piddly missions any half-competent chuunin could manage."

Sakura smirks. "Humble as always, I see."

"There's nothing noble or honest about false humility."

They can agree there, at least.

It's embarrassingly easy to slip into conversation with him. They spent too many mornings talking over breakfast, too many nights sharing secrets. It's infuriating how familiar he feels, because even when she tries to forget him she remembers every detail. Even when she's angry with him she still wants him. That's what they do, oscillate from one extreme to the next. They've loved and saved and betrayed one another, given and taken, told sweet lies and poisonous ones, and confessed the cruelest of truths.

All that, and now she has no idea where they stand. Except that wherever it is, they're on opposite sides.

"Why did you pick this place?" Sasuke asks.

"Why did you?" she shoots back.

"Answering a question with a question is cheap. Try again."

Sakura crosses her legs, and she doesn't miss the way Sasuke's gaze flickers down, taking in the movement. He stared at her legs the last time they spoke too, when he caught her wearing nothing but underwear and his shirt.

It takes a concerted effort not to squeeze her thighs together or shift in her seat.

"Shinobi never come here—present company excluded, obviously—and I didn't feel like socializing."

"If you don't want anyone to talk to you, I'm surprised you wore that."

She's certain she's not imagining the hint of jealousy in his voice.

"What makes you say that?" Sakura asks.

He knocks back a cup of sake. "Never mind."

"No, please continue. If you're going to slut shame me for wearing a short dress, I'd prefer for you to come right out with it."

"Calling that a dress is generous," he says. "But I'm not shaming you for it. You can wear whatever you want. You're a grown woman."

She should be angry. And she would be, most likely, if he'd only stop looking at her like that. With heat, yes, but also knowledge. An awareness of her body that no one else has managed. Not possessive Kenji or experienced Taro or even sweet, generous Hideo. All of them have touched her, but only Sasuke has learned her.

She wonders if anyone has touched him in the last five years. Probably. He had far less reason to abstain than she did.

"You seem to like my choice of outfit. What with the way you keep staring."

"It's not the dress that's holding my attention, Sakura."

She shivers, even though a blush is creeping over her from head to toe. Somehow, she forgot how bold he can be, when he chooses to provoke her. Sasuke is the king of cold silences and unanswered questions, but he's not remotely shy.

Well, except for that night. She saw a little shyness from him then, but it didn't last long.

The memory hits her with nearly physical strength, it's so visceral. She's sitting in this dive bar angry-flirting with Sasuke, but she's also on her back beneath him, bleeding on her old duvet while he fucks her.

It hurt more than she let on, but only because she didn't want him to stop. How something could feel so painful and so good at once, she never figured out. She remembers it perfectly, down to the finest details, from his taste on her tongue to the things he said while he took her. He got her off with his fingers first, so that she'd be wet and relaxed when they went all the way. A good call, because afterward, she was too sore to come again. But it's not the orgasm she misses most. Blissful though it was, it's the moments that followed she truly cherishes. When Sasuke was inside her, finding pleasure in her body.

Sakura has thought about that night a thousand times in the last five years, regretting it and treasuring it in (almost) equal measure. And she realizes now, sitting here with him, that she needs it again. Not wants. Needs.

"Let's go outside," Sakura says quietly. "There's an alley behind this building. A dark one."

Sasuke swallows, his jaw tight.

He's not stupid, and she's not subtle. He knows exactly what she's saying. What she's offering. There's no reason for him to make her spell it out, but of course he does anyway.

"Just to be clear, you're asking me to fuck you behind a dirty bar?"

Sakura shrugs. "I'm not fussy about location these days."

It's true. She once let Taro take her against a wall in a restaurant bathroom (a nice one, fortunately), and Kenji had her blow him in semi-public places a few times. The novelty of exhibitionism wore off quickly and never turned her on anyway, but she'd like Sasuke to think she's shameless. She wants him to picture her giving it up wherever would scandalize and disappoint him most. Because he's so much more inclined to make bad decisions when he's pissed off.

"Come on. All I'm asking for is sex," Sakura says. "I was good for that much, wasn't I?"

When he flinches, it feels like a victory.

"Don't you have a boyfriend?" Sasuke asks.

She turns in her seat, facing him, uncrosses her legs, and parts them just a little. Showing off her panties—not that there's much to show.

"Do you really care?" Sakura whispers.

Sasuke openly stares at the part of her she's offering, breathing hard. He does nothing, says nothing, for an excruciatingly long time.

Sakura gasps when he grabs her wrist and pulls her off her stool. Half dragging her outside, then around the building, until they're alone in the alley, which is as dark as she promised.

"No," he finally says. "I don't care."

And then he kisses her.

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Author's Notes: I promise not to leave y'all hanging on this cliff for long. The next chapter is written and just needs to be edited. I'm currently planning to update next weekend, barring disaster.

Also, thank you thank you thank you to everybody who left me such kind reviews on the last chapter. Truly, each and every one of those sweet comments have made the last weeks (which have mostly been hellish) bearable. They've brought me so much comfort and positivity in a time when I desperately need it. So, again, thank you. :)

EDIT: To the guest who felt the need to leave me a review on this chapter calling Sakura an out of character slut, saying that these characters aren't Sasuke and Sakura, just "stupid girl number one and stupid man number two", and a bunch of other nasty shit, from the bottom of my heart: fuck you. I hope you see this, and that you never read any of my stories again. You're not welcome here.

Last chapter I asked people to please, please, please not leave me any mean reviews. I am on the verge of a mental breakdown because I just got out of an abusive relationship that lasted over a decade. I've lost my home, my safety net, my marriage, my whole fucking life. I'm recovering from being raped and abused for YEARS, and I begged you guys to be kind. I cannot take any other bad things right now. Since everyone was so supportive on Chapter 5 and my last update of TVOTE, I thought I was safe to update this fic again. Apparently not.

So, thanks to this asshole, I will not be updating next weekend. Idk when I will, or if I'm ever going to be updating on FFN again. 99% of the cruel reviews I receive happen here. I'll keep posting on Archive of Our Own, so if you want to keep reading my stories, they'll still be available. Just maybe not on this website. My handle on AO3 is SouthSideStory as well if you want to find me there.

EDIT AGAIN: Another person decided to crawl into my reviews, this time with even more purposeful cruelty, telling me not to project myself onto Sakura. Because God forbid I work through my trauma with fanfiction. How unprofessional, allowing any of my personal experiences to color my stories while my life falls apart.

So, anon, my approximately 2000 subscribers here on FFN can thank YOU for being the straw that broke the camel's back! I will definitely not be posting any future updates for this story or any new stories on this site. I may continue updating TVOTE here simply because it has so many followers, and I hate to leave them hanging. But that really depends on whether people show their ass on that fic as well.