A/N: I was NOT planning on writing anything for ItaSaku week this year. Then the "soulmates" prompt crawled into ear canal and refused to come out. I accidentally combined it with the "I think you're flirting, but you could also be trying to kill me with your eyes" prompt, and this happened. Thank you to F.M. White and crew for this event!
-o-
Like Pears in Summer
-o-
"Ino, stop pulling," Sakura groaned, wrenching her wrist from the other girl's grip. "I'm going, I'm going."
"Don't be so cranky. This is exactly why we're doing this," Ino fired back, picking her way over a tangle of roots jutting from the dirt path.
"It's hot."
"Cranky, like I said. It's summer. It's supposed to be hot."
"How exactly will chasing after nonexistent love legends make me less cranky?"
"Instead of just being lonely like a normal person, you get moody. So it's either this, or I'm throwing you into the river."
Sakura glanced wistfully at the stream trickling beside them as they walked. The late summer sun beat down above, and even the pear trees along the path weren't providing much relief. "I might prefer the river option."
Ino turned and made a grab for her waist.
"I'm kidding, I'm kidding!" Sakura laughed, ducking out of reach.
Ino straightened, resuming her brisk pace, but she was smiling. "See? We're not even to the mill yet, and you're already feeling better."
Sakura snorted. "As if—"
"Look!" Ino pointed, and there it was, looking exactly as boring and decrepit as Sakura had expected: the old, abandoned rice mill. Its wooden waterwheel still turned slowly in the lazy current of the stream, though the reeds were overtaking it. The roof looked in danger of caving in.
She crossed her arms. "So this is the romantic setting of your big important myth, huh?" No wonder no one came through the outskirts of this part of town anymore. It looked as though Konoha stopped maintaining the area fifty years ago.
"It's not a myth," Ino corrected, in hushed tones of reverence. "Can't you feel it? A hundred years ago, the couple who ran this mill were so happy together, so in love, that all this time later, even the very air here—"
"All I feel in the air are mosquitos," Sakura interrupted, slapping a palm to her thigh.
Ino glared. "Well, it's not the air that's important, it's the water. If you look in the water and try to sincerely picture the love you want—"
"'—the reflection of your soulmate will gaze back at you.' I know, Ino, I attended Academy, too."
"Well, then at least try for some suspension of disbelief! Tanaka Mitsuki swears she came here two years ago, and—"
"What, met her husband here?"
"Well, no, not exactly. But the reflection of the pear tree branches looked exactly like his face, and now she's married into his clan, and she's rich, and all three of their kids have these awesome kekkei genkai—"
Sakura rolled her eyes. "Oh, well, I can't argue with the tree branches. I mean, if that's not a sign, I don't know what—"
"Just go!" Ino cried, exasperated, giving her a shove toward the mill.
Sakura glanced back. "You're not coming?"
"No, it's a private thing! I wouldn't want to—to mess up your love picture and end up in some weird triangle with you or anything. Again."
"It's hardly a triangle if only two parties are invested," she muttered, thinking of the dark days of their fights over Sasuke, which never failed to blacken her mood further.
"Stop thinking about it, just go!" Easy for Ino to say. She had recovered from that rejection long ago. Like rain on an oilcloth tent: it slid right off her.
Sakura was cotton, absorbing everything. Always much slower to recover from blows to her dignity. She'd never really gotten over Sasuke's refusal to be on her team when they were assigned together all those years ago. He'd gotten his way, as a member of the prestigious Uchiha clan, of course, and she was reassigned to Ino and Shika's team. They'd never spoken again.
It was all for the better, really. Even by clan standards, everyone knew the Uchiha were snobs.
"I said less thinking! More walking!" Ino called, making gestures with her arms to demonstrate.
Sakura made one particular gesture in return that had Ino gasping in offense. Then she turned and ran toward the mill.
It was quiet without Ino's chatter. She lost sight of the overgrown path and had to pick her way over crumbling stones and roots and weeds, but she made it to the water beneath the overhanging roof. Birds were singing and the stream lapped gently at the rocky shore. This might be kind of a peaceful place to escape from the bustle of Konoha, under different circumstances.
Sighing her resignation, she settled into a crouch on the bank beside the waterwheel and closed her eyes.
What kind of love would she sincerely want?...
Someone kind and respectful. A mutual love based on real appreciation for each other. Someone helpful and supportive, who liked talking to her, spending time together.
That was all, really. She hadn't thought finding such a person would be so hard. But she'd only ever seemed to seek out people with the exact opposite characteristics, which is why she was so single, and so tired. Too tired to try anymore, whatever Ino thought.
Knowing nothing would happen and trying to be fine with it, she opened her eyes.
A face stared back at her in the water beside her own reflection.
She gasped, whirling around so fast she toppled backward into the stream, ass first. She sat in the shallow water, palms stinging from catching herself on the rocks, and gazed up.
And up.
Sasuke's brother was perched on the roof, staring down at her.
A minute passed in silence, then another. A frog croaked. Then he asked, "Are you alright?"
Sakura, who felt herself turn an interesting shade of purple, exploded. "An Uchiha?" she shrieked, hauling herself to her feet and scrubbing blood and gravel from her palms off on her wet shorts. "This is so stupid! This proves I was right!"
And it did—every Uchiha in that pretentious and insular clan wanted nothing to do with other villagers. They might work with them despite looking down on them, but they certainly didn't date—let alone fall in love with—anyone outside the clan. Especially villagers like Sakura, who didn't come from famous families or have any special bloodline limits.
Sasuke hadn't even wanted to be friends.
"Stupid!" she muttered, swearing under her breath and climbing out of the stream, trying to wring water from her sodden clothes. "I'm gonna kill Ino—"
Sasuke's brother was still looking at her with what might be concern for her sanity. "Excuse me, are you—"
"Haruno Sakura, yes," she said. Let him judge. Her identity was nothing to be ashamed of to normal people. "And you're Uchiha Itachi. I know."
His expression turned calculating. "Actually, I was only trying to ask if you plan to stay here."
Her eyes narrowed. "What? Why?"
"Don't take this the wrong way," he began carefully. "But you're a little noisy, and I—"
"Oh?" she said, pitch rising. "I'm noisy, am I? I'm sorry, is that illegal now? Is this Uchiha property? Do you own this area?"
"No, but I could move—"
"Don't bother, you can have it. Me and my noise are outta here." She turned on her heel and began stomping her way back to Ino.
"Haruno-san, wait," he called.
Without turning, she made the same gesture she'd offered to Ino earlier.
He didn't call out again.
-o-
Sakura groaned as Ino dumped another thick folio onto the paper-strewn table. "There's more?"
Ino nodded grimly. "There's always more. The summer festival is huge."
"How does Asuma-sensei always manage to get us elected to push papers? We did it last year, you'd think some other team could take a turn."
"What's more amazing is how Shika is coincidentally unavailable to help with planning yet again."
Sakura froze, not having realized this until now. "Why that conniving little—"
Ino poked her forehead. "Back off. He's mine to abuse. Get your own."
"Ow!" Sakura complained, rubbing her forehead. "I tried, remember? And the universe spat on me."
Ino glanced up with that look again. "Are you sure you did it right? You sincerely pictured—"
"Pig. We have rehashed this argument for days. We have supplies to order and deliveries to coordinate. And if the Council still doesn't have a venue picked out by Thursday, I swear I'm going to—"
"Okay, forgive me if I doubt your sincerity, but there's just no way you were being honest with yourself. If you had been, it would've worked."
"That's ridiculous. We agree that it couldn't possibly be him, which means that the logical explanation is that it didn't work and the whole thing is a myth. This debunks it, let it go."
Ino hesitated, pen tapping against her stack of papers. "I mean, if you're sure you didn't mess it up...I know it's crazy, but is it possible that maybe your soulmate actually is—"
"If you finish that sentence, I'll cut up your sweaty training clothes and bake them into your birthday cake next year."
"As if you could manage that without burning down your kitchen."
"That was one time, Ino, I—"
But Ino had already moved on, chewing on the tip of her pen in thought. "I mean, it's not how it worked with Tanaka Mitsuki, but you did see his reflection—"
Sakura stood, chair screeching. "Okay. Fine. I have a solution to this." She grabbed up her things, shoveling papers back into their folios at random. "I will go back. I will picture the love I want sincerely, with extra sincerity on top. And when his face isn't there, will you finally drop it?"
"Yes," Ino agreed immediately.
"Promise?"
"I promise. But if it is, if it is, even you would have to acknowledge that it's proof that—"
"It won't be," Sakura said confidently, pulling on her shoes.
"We'll see!" Ino called as the door swung shut.
Sakura stormed her way through the busy streets, but her gait slowed as she neared the outskirts. There was something about the quiet that made it harder to hold onto her anger, which seemed ever-present back in the thick of Konoha. The sun was even brighter today, and it was so hot she had to pull her hair back. She idly wondered when the last time she went on an actual camping mission with her team was, but couldn't remember. Probably even back before her teammates had gotten together. Maybe she needed to get out into nature more, even if alone.
There was a strange turbulence in her chest as she caught sight of the rice mill in the distance. Some dangerous, self-destructive part of her actually did wish the legend could be true.
She supposed she really was that lonely.
Trying not to dwell on it, she turned her attention to the pear trees as she walked. It was still early in the season so there were only a few on the shelves at the market, but the trees were looking fuller than expected. Their branches hung temptingly low, heavy with fruit, but she didn't allow herself to stop to pick any.
She marched straight to the mill but slowed with caution as she approached. She studied the roof warily: empty. She glanced around. Seeing no one and hearing nothing but birds and frogs, she took her place by the side of the stream and closed her eyes.
Maybe she had messed it up last time by thinking about how she kept pursuing people with the wrong traits. She tried to focus only on the right traits: kindness, respect, appreciation, companionship.
Was it really so hard?
Her chest squeezed in want, and she opened her eyes, trying to prepare for inevitable disappointment.
A face stared back at her from beneath the water.
She screamed, throwing herself backward as he surfaced.
Uchiha Itachi. Again. He was staring at her, hair dripping into his eyes, like he couldn't believe she was real.
She clutched her heart through her shirt, unable to believe he was real. But then her eyes dipped lower. And the clear water didn't lie. "Are you—are you wearing anything?" she spluttered.
His ears were red. "I wasn't expecting anyone to be here."
"I—I—" she abruptly turned aside and tried not to pass out. "What are you doing here?"
She could feel his stare on the side of her head. "Just cooling off after training." There was a pause, and a frog croaked. "It's hot."
"I'm aware," she said shrilly, holding a hand up to block the edge of her vision so she wouldn't be tempted to look. "But why here?"
"I come here all the time."
"But no one ever comes here!"
She could tell he was looking at her oddly. "Yes. Exactly."
She was too stunned to speak.
After another moment of heavy, awkward silence broken only by that intrusive frog, he shook his hair out. Droplets spattered her shoulder, and she was just on the brink of climbing to her feet and hightailing it in the opposite direction when he spoke up:
"Why are you here?"
She paused. Never in a million years could she tell him—or anyone—the truth. He would laugh at her. He'd take that juicy morsel back to the Uchiha compound so they could all laugh at her: 'Haruno Sakura, that nobody who was obsessed with Sasuke, now stalking Itachi instead and claiming it's fate, how sad.'
"You—your family doesn't own the whole village. I'm allowed to be here." She hadn't meant it to sound so hostile, but couldn't take the words back.
His hesitation was underscored with confusion. "I never said—"
"Just leave me alone!" She leaped to her feet without glancing in his direction. Her legs sprinted the whole distance back to Ino's house without stopping, whereupon she promptly lied to Ino's face.
Ino was visibly disappointed, and Sakura did feel guilty, but she vowed never to tell a soul what happened.
-o-
The summer festival was rapidly approaching, and there was still so much to do. All of it tedious but urgent—the worst combination. As if fate were taunting her further, the Council had finally chosen a venue: the Uchiha compound. Again.
Sakura swallowed her scream and did her paperwork.
She tried to relax during the hottest part of the afternoons by taking breaks to walk through the village. Sometimes she wandered to Hokage monument to spend a few minutes gazing out at the rooftops; sometimes she walked past the practice grounds to watch the genin pummel each other, heedless of the heat as only children are. Sometimes she even thought of swimming in the river by the old rice mill. It really was a good idea, she could admit that. But she refused to go back.
Today, she thought of pears. Juicy, sweet, crisp. So she went to the market.
She was craving them powerfully by the time she arrived, and went straight to the back, hope tight in her throat. They'd been flying off the shelves, but it was still early enough in the day that there might be a few left before the evening shopping rush.
She nearly gasped in delight as she caught sight of one last pear—perfectly round and golden-skinned—sitting on the shelf. She dodged customers, elbowing her way down the aisle, already able to taste it in her mouth. She reached out a hand—
Only to see another pick it up first.
Uchiha Itachi stared blankly at her as if she were the aberration.
Her fists tightened at her sides. "This isn't funny."
He blinked. "What isn't funny?"
"This," she growled, gesturing vaguely between them.
"I don't under—"
"Fine," she spat, glaring. "Take it. Take everything. The pear, my dignity, whatever."
He glanced down at the fruit in his hand as if surprised it was there. "Wait. You wanted—?"
But she was already turning on her heel. "Nope. Don't want it."
"Do you want some tea, then?"
She stopped. She spun slowly, looking at him like he'd asked whether rain fell upward. "What?"
"Would you like to have tea? With me?" he repeated, drawing out each word, as if she were slow. Or a dangerous animal liable to explode into a flurry of fur and teeth.
"What?" she repeated dumbly.
He glanced down at the pear, then back at her. "I thought, perhaps we could—"
Horror was bubbling up in her throat. "No. No! No, I do not want to have tea with you," she choked.
The hurt that flashed across his face was so brief, but clear enough that she felt a stab of guilt. She went to apologize, but the words came out all wrong:
"I just—nevermind."
She felt his eyes on the back of her head up until the moment she was out the door, chimes jingling with false cheerfulness on her fleeing heels.
-o-
"But A-suma-sen-sei!" Sakura whined, trying to cling to his sleeve even as he shook her off. "Why can't Shikamaru go? He's weaseled his way out of doing anything—"
Asuma pinched the bridge of his nose. "I know, but he's not back until tomorrow, and these need to be delivered immediately."
"But—"
"Listen." He gripped her shoulders, cigarette pointing down from his frowning lips. "Shika's gonna get it from me when he gets back. I didn't realize what he was trying to pull when he offered to take that solo mission. Next year, I will ensure he does all the planning himself. But right now, I need these tokkuri delivered to the Uchiha compound, or I'm gonna have a new asshole come morning. Do you understand?"
She softened, releasing his sleeve. "Right. Of course."
He put his hand on her head. "Thank you. The handcart's outside, I loaded it up for you."
Nodding, she resolved to suck it up and stop being a coward. Nothing was worth getting Asuma in trouble. He was already too soft with the Council, which is probably how they always ended up stuck with festival planning. She turned to head out.
"Please be careful with them, Sakura. They're for the ceremonial sake. If anything breaks—"
"I'll be careful." She gave him a tight smile, and he smiled back with relief.
True to his word, the cart was carefully packed with dozens of ceramic tokkuri, their round bottles and slim necks gleaming in the sunshine. She picked up the cart handles—it was really heavy, even with all the bottles still waiting to be filled—and began the long trek toward the Uchiha compound on the far side of the village.
She had to go slow, carefully picking her way over the roads, watching for bumps and darting children and all other manner of potential hazards. There was a law of the universe that wanted to upset carts, she knew, especially when their contents were both delicate and important.
By the time she reached the gates of the Uchiha compound, she was sweating so much she had to keep stopping to wipe her palms on her shorts. She couldn't risk letting the handles slip. The air was too warm, and the bugs were out in full force, but she was grateful most of the Uchiha seemed to still be gone, out and about on daytime business.
She was just wondering, for the tenth time, why all the good festivals had to be held here, or at the Hyuuga compound, or the Yamanaka, or anywhere a powerful clan happened to call home. It wasn't just a space issue—Konoha had nothing if not plenty of space surrounding it, and forest could be easily rearranged with a little jutsu—when something dark streaked across her path.
A black cat. It froze at the sight of her, in the path of her heavy cart, and she yelled, but had no choice but to swerve to avoid it—
The soft shoulder of the path gave way beneath her wheels. The cart tilted, and to her abject horror, the carefully stacked tokkuri cascaded out. Several smashed immediately against rocks, or shattered against each other, but the rest began to roll down the sloping hillside, out of control—
Yelping, Sakura abandoned the cart and ran after them, but it was hopeless—they'd scattered in all directions, and were rolling so fast, and she was just one person—
Then, like a miracle or a hallucination, Uchiha Itachi was there. Again. Only this time he didn't speak, just ran after the careening tokkuri wordlessly, snatching up armfuls as he went. Sakura did the same, and they raced toward the bottom of the hill together, managing to beat the majority of the bottles there. They caught them one by one as they rolled down, setting each aside on the grass to snap up more.
By the time they rescued the last few, Sakura collapsed to the ground. Sweat ran into her eyes, but it was more from fear than exertion. They were surrounded by a small mountain of bottles, but she gazed in despair back up the hill at the ones that shattered. There were simply too many of them, far too many to hide the problem.
A hand appeared before her nose. She looked up into Uchiha Itachi's face.
"Come on. I have an idea."
She didn't know why, but she accepted his outstretched hand in silence, and let him help her to her feet. She even let him lead her back to the cart. His palm was warm, and she didn't understand what was happening.
He moved the cart to more level ground, then began packing the surviving tokkuri back into it. They made dozens of trips up and down the hill, unspeaking, just carrying armfuls of ceramics.
When the job was done, he lifted the cart by its handles. "Follow me."
Sakura did.
He led her through a few back alleys of the compound—she was vaguely grateful for the discretion, though her brain was having problems working—until they reached a kind of storage shed. He opened the door with some kind of jutsu, and moved to enter, but paused.
He turned to watch her standing there, staring. "Aren't you coming?"
If Sakura was capable of feeling anything at the moment, it would have been amazement. But her feet moved, and she followed him inside.
The little room was full of Uchiha artifacts—scrolls, antiques, valuables—certainly all kinds of things that outsider eyes shouldn't see. He didn't stop or slow until they reached the farthest shelf, toward the back. A row of beautiful tokkuri gleamed in the dim light of the open door—a slightly different beige from the others, but nothing too notable.
Then she understood. "Wait. We can't—"
But he was already bending to lift several. "It's fine. No one will miss these. We'll just use them until the festival is over." He held out an armful to her.
She took a reluctant step back. "But—"
"It'll be fine. I promise."
Somehow, despite herself, she believed him. She accepted the armful from him, and they carried them out to the cart.
As they loaded them, Sakura found herself saying, "Why—why are you helping me?"
"You needed help."
"Yes, but—"
"Do I need another reason?"
"Well, yes, actually—" her head was clearing, reality seeping back in around the edges. "Yes. I—I haven't exactly been friendly to you, so—"
"Why won't you drink tea with me?" he interrupted, straightening as he put the last bottle on the cart.
"I—what?"
"Why are you so angry at me?"
She had to look away in shame. It wasn't him personally, she didn't even know him. She'd let herself get carried away with her prejudices against the Uchiha. She'd vented all kinds of feelings on him, and in hindsight he'd never been anything but kind. Respectful. Supportive in a crisis, too, apparently.
She stared at the ground. "Why would you want to drink tea with me?"
Strangely, he seemed taken aback. "What?"
"I mean...between my behavior, and...well, you're an Uchiha."
His brows pulled together. There was a tiny crease between them. "Do you think we don't like tea?"
He was straightforward almost to the point of idiocy. She almost laughed, despite herself. "No, I just—"
"Please have some tea with me, then. We can talk about it."
So Sakura did.
-o-
The tea house was one of her favorites—easily the best brew in Konoha—but too public. And Uchiha Itachi's natural reticence wasn't exactly helping the situation.
Sakura sipped her tea, unable to even touch the umeboshi on the plate between them. She had no appetite at all.
They sat in silence for a time, until she absolutely couldn't stand it any longer.
"Are you sure you should be doing this?" she asked, glancing about. It was only tea, but people were staring at them.
"It's fine."
"But—"
"You're very concerned with my family's opinion."
"Well, yeah," she said bluntly. "I live here. Why aren't you concerned?"
He studied the contents of his teacup in thought. "Is it really so important?"
She huffed. "Maybe not to you. You were born with a lot of privileges. But the rest of us have to be concerned with these things."
He raised an eyebrow. "Do you, though?"
Her grip tightened on her teacup. Everyone was concerned with clan opinion, to some degree, just as you had to be concerned with public opinion in general to live in a small village. But maybe others weren't quite as concerned as she was.
He seemed to read her thoughts. "Are you jealous?"
Her jaw dropped. She considered standing and walking out—after dramatically dumping her tea in his lap—but refrained. "How dare you?"
"I only meant—" he took a sip. "I only meant that I would understand if you were. You're not wrong—people born to prominent clans do have a lot of privileges."
She puffed her chest out. "Yeah, well, there's more to life than—"
"I agree."
This response deflated her, somewhat. She returned her eyes to the contents of her cup.
"There are also drawbacks," he continued in a murmur. "Being born into such a clan, I mean."
She tried to keep a scowl off her face. "Like what? Name one. Just one."
He was gazing out the window over her shoulder. "It can be lonely."
Sakura shut up, struck. He did seem lonely. She was always finding him alone, in any case, but had assumed he preferred it that way. Maybe he did, but she supposed nearness to others wasn't a real factor in determining whether someone was truly lonely. No matter how many friends she had, she still felt it.
That feeling.
She swallowed. "I suppose you didn't choose your fate any more than I chose mine."
His eyes met hers as he finished the last of his tea. "Would you walk with me?"
She put her cup down on the table and stood.
-o-
Sakura wasn't entirely surprised to note that their feet carried them back to the old rice mill. They didn't say much, but the silence didn't really bother her. It didn't seem to bother him, either, punctuated as it was by the quiet sounds of insects and animals, or the murmur of the stream. As they approached the cluster of pear trees, she glanced longingly at their branches.
"Here." He reached up, and a moment later a pear appeared before her nose. "I'm sorry for taking the last one."
She accepted the fruit from him, allowing her fingers to brush his. "I'm the one who should apologize. I'm sorry for taking out my prejudices against the Uchiha on you. I know you may be a family, but you're not all the same."
He was looking at her with a soft kind of curiosity. She fidgeted, tossing the pear from hand to hand. Then she blurted out: "I came here because of the legend, you know."
His cheek lifted, and he turned his face toward the mill as they resumed their pace. "I thought so."
She nearly stumbled in her surprise. "Wait—you knew? About the myth?"
"I did grow up in the same village as you, Haruno-san."
"Sakura," she corrected absently. Though that was technically true, she'd thought the Uchiha must have all their own myths and stories. It was strange to imagine him even talking to other children when he was in Academy. Sasuke certainly avoided others like they were contagious.
But perhaps that was what he meant when he said it was lonely. Maybe he could only listen.
"Do you believe in things like that?" he asked, leading the way toward the bank by the waterwheel.
"No. Of course not," she said quickly, stepping around a patch of slippery moss.
He said nothing, helping himself to a seat, just staring at the water.
She hesitated for a long moment, then sat beside him. But the longer he didn't speak, the more suspicious she became. "Do you believe in things like that, Uchiha-san?"
"Itachi," he corrected in turn. "We're discouraged from dating outside the clan, as you know. So it wouldn't matter."
"That's not an answer," she pointed out. "And I thought you didn't care about your clan's opinion."
"I didn't say that. I asked if it was really so important."
She accepted that distinction. "And the myth?"
There was something almost coy in his eyes as he looked at her. "I don't know. I'm...curious...about such things."
Sakura's hand tightened around the pear in realization. "Wait. Wait. So—that day—both those days—you weren't here because…?"
He was almost smiling at her. "I've been coming here every week for many years."
"Oh," she said, half-laughing, caught strangely between relief and disappointment. "For a moment, I thought you meant you were...well, waiting here. For something to happen." She took a bite of her pear.
"I didn't say I wasn't."
She nearly spat out her bite and had to cover her mouth with her hand. "I—what!? Years? Years? No—no one would—not even someone who was totally sure it was true—I—years?"
But he wasn't paying attention to her sputtered disbelief. He was watching the pear wave as she gesticulated with it. Watching with what she realized was desire. Unthinkingly, she held it out to him in offer.
Surprise colored his features, then appreciation. Then he leaned toward her and took a bite from the fruit, straight from her hand.
She flushed. He chewed thoughtfully. "Years," he repeated.
Her heart was hammering in her ears. "Was—was there ever a reflection? Did anyone show up while you were here?"
She watched in fascination as he took another bite. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, catching the drop of juice rolling down his chin. He looked at her. "Just one."
Sakura had lost the power of speech. He was looking up at her from beneath long lashes. Excessively long. Just silly, really. Unfair.
Sort of beautiful.
"Will you go to the festival with me?"
She opened her mouth, closed it, then opened it again. "I—but won't your family object?"
"Yes. But I won't mind if you don't. Not if you really do want to go with me."
And just as Sakura was processing the thought that maybe she really didn't care about other people's opinions as much as she'd thought—that maybe there really were more important things in life—he leaned forward and kissed her.
He tasted like pears. Like kindness and respect and appreciation and companionship. Like pears in summer.
"Yes," she breathed.
It was a beginning.
-o-
The Beginning