A/N: Thank you all for the abundance of lovely comments last chapter! They help me get over my lack of energy/motivation to write.
Chapter 21
She was sinfully calm in the days that followed, to the point where she began to wonder if the balance of her mind had finally tipped and she was slowly going insane to be so unfeeling. It'd been a week since Sasuke left her at the doorsteps of their home stunned, broken, and without any expectation that he'd come home again. How she still was able to go about her daily routines without missing a beat, she couldn't say; but she suspected it had to do with the thick callus that eventually layered over her heart from how he'd left her empty of promises and hopes over and over again, and from how she'd gotten so jaded from all the disappointment that she'd let herself become victim to too many times to be lessons learned.
This. Was nothing new.
The abandonment and lonesomeness didn't strike her with pangs of hurt as they used to. If anything, things have simply fallen back to the norms, and there was no dramatic difference in her day-to-day resulted from his absence from her life other than... his absence from her life—again, nothing new. Though she'd be blindly stupid to think that Sasuke's departure this time was no different from all the others before.
Her husband had discovered her betrayal, an inevitable turn of events that she foolishly thought to prevent with all her might: She'd severed ties with the man whose relationship with her was the unintended effect of her own loneliness and desires. She'd vowed to herself to reform her corrupt ways, to uphold herself as the diligent and devout wife worthy of the Uchiha Clan name.
Still, these efforts, laughable as they seemed now, had ended in vain. And Sakura wondered if this all but meant that her more than ten years of marriage to Sasuke was effectively over. To draw the dot on this chapter of their life together didn't come across as a somber thought that broke her heart, which has already scarred over from years of sorrow and resentment. Strangely, yet somehow expectedly, she felt nothing; no sense of loss but that of the decade-long time she spent putting her life on hold waiting for Sasuke to walk through that front door to make this family whole again—time she now realized with bitterness that she was never going to get back.
It was too late to lay blame on any party in this failure of a relationship between two flawed individuals, but regret over her mistakes in all her existence had the million-dollar question creep into her conscious thinking in quiet moments between.
Where had things gone wrong?
The various versions of this question all wove together in her head at once—the ones that she wasn't able to confront Sasuke about, the same ones that she now had to speculate her own answers to. Believing her own faults were the symptoms of something more insidious, she thought back to the beginning... To the time she gleefully chased Sasuke down this road, despite the warning signs and ignorant of the heartaches that would make up her memories of him...
Why did he ask for her hand only to let their marriage wither without nurture? Why did he make her his only to live their lives so far apart that made her question whether their bond was any better than that of acquaintances?
Maybe... Sakura surmised, maybe Sasuke never wanted her; but her devotion instead.
And for what? She dared not to go down that rabbit hole of possibilities, afraid she'd emerge as someone indignant and spiteful.
In this assumption of hers, she found herself feeling fooled but not angry; enlightened yet resigned. Entirely too drained in her emotional capacity, she simply accepted the notion. It made sense to her to explain Sasuke's lack of enthusiasm toward her that persisted well into their marriage. It was just too bad that the devotion her irrational, overzealous younger self toted along into adulthood wasn't as infinite as she thought; but worse now was that her devotion to Sasuke hasn't run out earlier, so she wouldn't have wasted all her time standing by what she finally acknowledged was a lost cause...
Light footsteps entered her solitary space, and Sakura perked up to the sound. Her head turned. By the door of her bedroom, Sarada stopped and stood. Wearily, she looked at her daughter, missing the strength to muster a smile to disguise her sullen mood.
A small frown and a moment of hesitation took place, before Sarada tentatively moved to her side.
"Mama."
Sakura cast a mournful, apologetic look at the girl before her; belatedly and exceedingly thankful that she wasn't home several nights ago to witness the ugly exchange between the very people she looked up to.
Having been away on a mission, Sarada had returned home late last night. Given her daughter's sharp awareness, Sakura didn't think Sasuke's glaring absence was something that'd go unnoticed. Questions weren't rapidly fired at her the night before, perhaps due to Sarada's considerate nature; but they were certain to come, just like the sun that'd risen over the horizon this morning. Today was a new day.
"Papa... left?" Her unsure eyes roamed her face, the young one spoke so softly as though her words might break her.
Lips thinned, Sakura was hardly ready to broach the subject. Not last night, not now, and maybe not ever. Having no confidence in her voice to come out normal, she gave a defeated nod.
"But he said he'd stay until the exams are over…" Glancing away and downward, Sarada muttered, her tone as dejected as her expression. Though she demanded no further explanation, for which Sakura was grateful; yet the possibility that Sarada had given up on Sasuke long before she did was a thought that sobered her.
Her stomach sank at the sight of her daughter, but more so over her own continued silence. Unlike the many times before, she could no longer offer words of reassurance; she was finally out of them, as well as what little faith she had left in Sasuke.
"Mama... Is..."
Frowning dark eyes found hers again, and Sakura swallowed consciously.
"Is Gaara-ojisan never visiting us again?"
Eyes widening a fraction at the unexpected question, Sakura felt her throat tighten. Guilt spiraled through her, as she recognized too late that she was really the true cause for every disappointment in her daughter's life, from giving her an ideal image of her father that never seemed to match with reality to making a stranger of that one person she came to admire...
Arms extended out, she gathered Sarada into an embrace. Quivering lips whispered over the top of her head, "I'm so sorry, Sarada. I've been a horrible mother to you..."
A quiet tender moment between mother and daughter didn't relieved Sakura of the invisible ailment that manifested itself then and there again. A gentle sympathetic stroke on her back from Sarada as she eventually left her to her privacy some minutes after wasn't enough to soothe her. The heaviness that grew in Sakura's chest intensified, as that all but forgotten question ricocheted off the bounds of her brain.
"Is Gaara-ojisan never visiting us again?"
The feathery voice of Sarada didn't soften the punch that her earlier words packed. The hurt was unintentional but no less powerful, administering shock to her numbed heart, making Sakura re-experience a kind of pain that hasn't quite ebbed away with time while thinking about the answer to the above.
She was ashamed, confessing to the long-held secret that she couldn't purge from her mind thoughts about the red-haired man from the Land of Wind. The fact that this person still occupied room in her head when she wasn't nearly done in reflecting on her relationship with Sasuke made her feel unprincipled, but... who was she to talk about principles after all this time?
Considering herself already too steeped in her irredeemable ways, she began to relent to the temptation of refreshing those sweet memories in her mind that would only leave painful jabs to her heart now; the happiest ones she relived were the ones that stabbed the deepest, especially when contrasted with how he had walked away from her that night on top of the Hokage Rock—without hesitation, without looking back...
All of a sudden, she felt silly, idiotic even, to be sparing thoughts and suffering heartaches over someone who probably... didn't even care...
The self-reached conclusion disenchanted her, pouring sense into her, as she put a brake on her thoughts of wanting and longing. The reminiscing would only continue to trap her in a world of hurt. She was doing this to herself, and she had the power to stop it. And the only way she knew how was to overcome her mind's lack of discipline with those repetitive physical activities that she knew all too well.
The mental push she exerted was more than that of her body. Sakura dragged her feet across the floorboards to deposit in the closet freshly laundered towels that she'd left on her bed and had been meaning to put away for the past hour or so. As she stacked the towels over one of the shelves, her eyes caught something else that halted her in her motions. Her focus fell to the corner of the closet, where a lone paper bag had been returned to the night after Sasuke took off. In there was the maroon shirt that she didn't have to see to know, folded again and neatly fit into the bottom of the bag. Briefly, Sakura wondered if she'd ever be able to give it back to its owner now; but brief was all she allowed to feel the same weakness she was trying hard to expel.
Grounding her focus to the front of her, she immediately resumed her movements. Pulling open one by one the drawers of the in-unit cabinet to inspect the organization of the contents inside, she was conscious of the extra force in her actions that was unnecessary, but she didn't want to understand it. The last of the drawers was pulled open with a loud click as the back end hit the block that prevented it from sliding out of track. A couple of items sparsely filled the inner compartment, but one snatched her attention right away. The rich red that was her favorite color captivated her, mesmerizing her. Her fingers landed on the smooth object, Sakura inhaled and exhaled deeply, as she was once again reminded how unbelievably forgetful she was.
It was her birthday present that she'd temporarily stored away and promised herself to open later; but never did amid the subsequent events that had her completely distracted...
It was her birthday present from him...
Adamantly, she refused to bring his name to mind, because she believed this was the first step to her detox. If she buried the name, she thought she could prove that she was better than the hopeless lovesick girl that she felt herself regress into more and more these days. But a part of her defied her will, as her hands worked at the wrapping paper slowly, tearing it apart at the taped seams.
Carefully, Sakura unraveled the mystery in her hands. Freed of its covering, a book, in mint condition, laid in her lap after she'd backed to the edge of her bed and sat. Her eyes glided over the bold texts on the dust jacket. It read Medical Ninjutsu and Evolution: Current Applications and Future Prospects.
She stared at it dumbly. For a second or two, her brain stayed blank until it began to dream up scenarios again to fit the narrative she could no longer deny that she still wanted to hold on to. She imagined that her birthday present was selected with the utmost thought and consideration by the other person; she imagined that he'd taken time out of his busy schedule to personally visit the bookstore and handpick the material he knew she'd find fascinating and enriching; and desperate for some humor to lift her mood, she imagined that he'd endeavored himself to the trivial task of gift-wrapping until frustration took over and his sand ripped the papers to shreds before he delegated the task to a subordinate. It was amusing enough to get a giggle out of her. A faint smile graced her lips but didn't quite reach her eyes, as the latter started to sting inexplicably.
With fondness and adoration, Sakura let her fingers trace the contours of the book. So much for trying to erase his name...
Gaara had to care, he just had to... In her head, she stubbornly insisted over the rational side of her that'd told her the contrary.
When everyone else had missed it, he noticed her pain, he noticed her needs; and above all, he had noticed her passion and showed interest and support.
Her eyes stung more, and she felt the trembling of the muscles in her face. The heel of her hand swept over the corner of her eye once, then twice over the other, rubbing harshly. She sniffled, holding back the tears her pride made her swear she wouldn't shed.
One drop, two drop, the water leaked and fell treacherously, splattering onto the glossy cover of the book that didn't absorb and hide the evidence of what was clearly a broken heart that hasn't been mended.
Sakura clenched her teeth, trying to gulp down the ball of pressure that was stuck in her throat and threatened to erupt. Wiping at her cheeks again, this time almost angrily, she compelled herself not to feel this way. She was better than this, Sakura asserted, because...
—because she could be an independent woman who didn't need any man in her life, if she wanted... dammit!
"This is not the life you want."
She didn't know how or why that line of his from so long ago suddenly jumped into the fray of her mind, choosing to compete with her defiance in that very moment. She choked. Her resistance crumbled. The thin streams from her eyes became flood. Hot ferocious tears wet the white knuckles of the hands that gripped the book in her lap tight.
"What I want… what I want is…" She muttered to herself, practically whimpering, her sentence incomplete and her answer missing as racking sobs made up the rest of it.
"Sakura-chan."
She blinked, tilting her head back to the source of voice from the scenery outside of the wide windows that held her absent stares earlier. A small tight-lipped smile to convey a quick apology, Sakura returned her attention to the blond man whose pinched eyebrows began to relax when their eyes met.
Behind his work desk, the Hokage said, "I got your application for a full-time position at the hospital."
She nodded, waiting for him to continue, more attentive now than she was before.
It wasn't long before Naruto's expression brightened, his lips split into a toothy grin as he added, "You know you didn't have to apply. The job is yours anytime you want!"
At the flattering compliment showered on her by the leader of the village, her cheeks started to warm. Sakura clasped her hands together over her front. Her smile was yet a conservative one. "I appreciate it, but I have to respect the system in place. I don't want people to think nepotism was involved."
"Please. We all know you are more than qualified." Easily shrugging off her concern, he exaggerated his tone before changing it over to a firm and authoritative one, "In any event, consider your request approved."
"Thank you, Naruto." Grateful, Sakura finally allowed her smile to broaden, matching her reaction to the delight in the man's face.
It was the first of many steps to her healing process; to move forward—her newest resolution. Sarada was older and more independent. She could make this leap to commit herself more to her passions for medical practice and research. She was done having her life on pause, done sacrificing her aspirations, all in vain for a person who was content keeping her in the backseat while he freely pursued his own agenda without any respect or consideration for equal roles in their partnership.
"Also..." Naruto drawled, as the cheer in his eyes diminished. The frown that soon inched its way across his countenance was her hint to prepare herself for something unpleasant to come her way, though she already had a good guess of what it would be. The bit of rigidity in his voice made it clear his discomfort in the next line of business he was to touch upon:
"I reviewed your divorce papers…"
To this, Sakura offered but a simple quiet nod, her expression neutral and showing no signs of the weight of her friend's words on her.
"Sakura-chan, are you sure about this?"
It was only when Naruto still wore his torn expression—as though on her behalf—that she felt a bit of guilt trickle through her for her outward apathy. She supposed that she ought to be more affected, but she'd come to terms that a divorce was the due course for her marriage to Sasuke. They were each, in their own way, chipping away at their relationship to the point where it couldn't be sustained anymore. He'd wronged her, and she'd wronged him. There was no reason to keep hurting each other...
It was just a pity she couldn't bring herself to walk away earlier, because Sasuke was all she knew. And frankly, growing old alone could be a scary thought. But someone had given her a reason, a non-justifiable one—but a reason, nonetheless, for her to leave a marriage that was slowly but surely breaking apart from within. That someone had also once told her to move beyond the past and work toward the future.
Her path now was forward, not backward. If Sasuke didn't want to be in her and their daughter's lives, then she was determined to live like it.
"Positive."
Naruto thinned his lips in a momentary pause as if to digest her one-word answer before asking, "What about Sarada?"
"I'm working on it..."
It wasn't going to be an easy conversation, Sakura admitted. Her personal reluctance has stopped all those practiced speeches from leaving her head space. But her days of avoiding the subject matter and hiding her truest feelings had to come to an end, and now that she's come to that bridge, she must cross it.
Though, given how it felt like Sasuke has already divorced himself from them physically and emotionally; the process of divorce, really, was just a formality. And she was half-feeling that her daughter, who shared the same experiences when it came to her absent father, might share the same sentiment.
"And Sasuke?"
That name, when spoken aloud these days, easily made Sakura uncomfortable. It was a change, more so emotionally, she supposed she'd have to get accustomed to. Stiffly, she replied, "I will let him know."
"I still think you should try to work things out with him."
The blond man was stubborn in his belief, and Sakura expected nothing less from a mutual friend since childhood. With a resigned sigh, she claimed, "Naruto, with you, it's always Sasuke."
"That's not true." He stretched out both arms, palms open toward her, as he made his defense. "I care about you too! I want the best for the both of you."
She had no intention to argue with him. She brought herself to the windows. Her eyes took in the beauty of the peaceful village under the embrace of the impossibly blue sky. She confessed, instead, "We are not right for each other. I can't believe it took me this long to realize."
"You've loved him since we were little." His voice carried over, the stubbornness in it losing its edge to bewilderment.
Her eyes didn't stray, she tried to make patterns out of the white clouds hanging high and above outside. "It's always been one-sided. A marriage without equal commitment from both partners cannot flourish."
"I hate to be blunt. Sakura-chan, but you—."
"I know I've made my mistakes." She spun around to face him. Like her voice, her look on him was hard before it was soft. Then immediately, she glanced away, almost like a petulant child, staring into the distance once more.
One mistake after another, she thought she'd made too many of them to count—But perhaps the biggest mistake of her life was that she never cared to stop and think about the difference between love and obsession back then, when she went through lengths to be by Sasuke's side.
"I'm really stupid, aren't I? I mean, what kind of idiot would marry a guy even after he's called her 'annoying' so many times?" She still wasn't looking at him when she laughed a humorless laugh.
"Sakura-chan…"
Her gaze remained on the horizon, where white, blue, and green blended together in a perfect painting. Her mind began to wander. She stared long and hard, as though she'd be able to see the outline of something, someone at the far end of the picture... After all, they were sharing the same sky, weren't they?
To that person whose presence felt closer in her fond memories than in reality now, she couldn't blame him for anything, didn't want to. Bad habits were hard to get rid of. And the only thing she came to regret was the way she went about doing things; otherwise, she could've preserved a friendship.
For him, she worried. And there was no easy switch she could turn off for this tendency of hers.
Have those vicious rumors that plagued her now reached beyond the borders and landed him in a bad place? Have they cost him more than his reputation?
"But…" Pensively, she spoke, her fingers curled inward as they rested atop the windowsill. "...The one who shouldn't have to suffer any consequences of my actions is Gaara..."
It was a private thought she could've kept to herself; but the reason she wondered out loud sat not far from her, blinking his blue eyes at her in a confused manner that made her think she really was never effective in her subtlety...
It was her way of asking, if there was a chance that he's heard from him...
How is he doing?