Yay, chapter two! I'm almost overwhelmed by the response the first chapter got; you are all so freaking sweet. And I'm not gonna name names (mainly because I literally can't) but there are some very awesome guest reviewers out there who need to come out of hiding and make an account so I can thank them properly. Anyways, lovelies, I'm enjoying this so much and as I mentioned in Reflective, I couldn't keep the story out of this one so buckle up because we've got a ways to go. Enjoy xo
The next frigid morning, upon awaking far too early and much too often, Sasuke bypassed the gardens and placed himself directly outside of Sakura's doors to await her. He thought it only inevitable that she would seek him out before it was time to resume his post, and why should he prolong the inevitable? He could convince himself that his anticipatory actions were only practical, but, truthfully, that morning, he had found a motivation within him, a keenness to seek her out instead. The desire had burrowed inside his mind, permeated his thoughts, and seemed to cloud all reason. It silenced the voice inside that told him he should keep his distance, that she was a danger, that nothing good would come from her companionship.
She was the Emperor's daughter, after all.
And yet, there he was, waiting diligently for her, gazing at the morning light and wondering what exactly she would have in store for him that day. Would she vex him with more incessant questions? Would she like to puzzle him with a myriad of topics he had no basis of knowledge in? Or would she simply like to beat him mercilessly at another game of shogi?
With a bemused smile, he thought that he should not have been surprised by her cunning at such a strategic game. She seemed to have a prolific talent when it came to positioning people right where she wanted them, be it through simple action or dexterous syntax. It had hardly been a few days and he had already found himself at the mercy of her silver tongue more times than he could count.
Or than he would like.
The doors opened behind him, silencing his thoughts, and he turned about.
"Good morning, Sasuke-kun," there was surprise in her voice and a smile on her face as she found him waiting. Sasuke bowed his head as the night guard left and halted before responding,
"Good morning, Sakura-san."
"How did you sleep?" she ushered him inside her sitting room where he noted the fire was already blazing. He was grateful for the warmth as it seemed it was to be a particularly cold day. The frost on the outside of her large window was evidence of that.
"I suppose as well as you," he offered, glancing at her adorned countenance. Though she looked as beautiful as the day before, perhaps more so, he could see a vacancy in her eyes, the indication of her lack of rest. If he had not become caught in her verdant gaze, he might not have noticed at all.
"You suppose correctly," she laughed and took her seat by the window again. He wondered why she did not use the throne that sat like a statuesque ornament in the back of the room; it seemed more decorative than functional. In fact, Sasuke thought it odd that she so rarely seemed to exercise power over him, and that, when she did, it was for the most trivial of things, like commanding him to share a meal with her.
"Then you are still troubled?" He furrowed his brows as he looked down at her, but Sakura was staring wistfully at the world outside. Not a shaft of light was able to penetrate the thick clouds that day, so only a dim illumination caressed her features. The storm was starting, snow falling heavy and thick as she watched, further obscuring the glass.
"I am, though I would not know where to begin," she heaved a weary sigh and propped her chin upon her open palm, "To understand it, I mean."
Sasuke stood awkwardly beside her, his posture rigid; he should not be listening to her talk of such things. It was improper for a royal and a commoner, let alone a woman and a man who was certainly not her husband.
"Is this not something better discussed with your ladies?" Even he was surprised at the frustration in his voice, but she did seem to know how to irk him. Although, Sakura did not appear to be as bothered by the abrasiveness of his tone.
"I suppose," she said slowly, gaze dropping from the window to the table. He could see her studying him through her peripheral and measured his next words,
"Where are they today?"
"I do not require them when you are here," she simpered, fixing him with an odd look as though he were a puzzle missing pieces. Was he to take that as a compliment? His brows furrowed as she beckoned him to the seat facing her. He took it promptly, obedient to her command, much to his dismay. Sakura leaned forward, jewels clinking together with the movement. He could not help but notice that day that she had unbound two elongated tendrils of hair to frame the curves of her face. Like a silken waterfall, they fell to her waist and he found himself looking not at the shimmering gems seated atop her head, but at the loosed strands instead. "What would you like to do today, Sasuke-kun?"
He snapped his eyes to hers, catching sight of that coy smile lingering on her lips.
"I believe that responsibility lies with you, Sakura-san," he responded resolutely.
"I do wish that you would simply call me Sakura," she mused, becoming forlorn as she glanced once again at the dismal condition of the weather just outside her window.
"Does it make a difference?" his tone held a twinge of irritation, but it seemed not to bother her since she smiled at his grit.
"Yes, it does," she kept her eyes infuriatingly cast to the snowfall, refusing him the satisfaction of meeting his annoyed visage.
"Would it make you feel normal?" he leaned forward, clasping his hands in his lap, rather eager for a response from her. He supposed that was the only explanation for such a silly request. Such familiarity was customarily reserved for those select few who truly knew her, for the ones closest to her.
"No," she shook her head, laughing to herself. A compromising flush took over her cheeks when she looked at him unabashedly. He watched a slim finger twirl itself in one of those loose tendrils, covering her skin until he could see nothing but the tip of her nail, before she released it leisurely. He was transfixed as it unfurled back to her waist. She considered him for a long breath, a recognition of something apparent in her expression. Sakura exhaled softly and murmured quietly, "It would make me feel special."
He clenched his fists and drew himself back, pulling in a deep breath to quell the flutter of his heart. Not for the first time, she had caught him off guard. Was it his recitation of her name that would make it special? Or was it merely to be called by her given name, no matter the person? Was it the informality of referring to her as such? The fact that, for however brief a moment, she was not regarded as royalty? Sasuke berated himself silently. He should not be wondering such things. What did it matter the reason? She was his superior and he should do as he was told.
Sakura seemed embarrassed by her admission and was made even more so as he contemplated silently to himself. Though she pondered his reaction to her statement, she also found she was eager to move past the uncomfortable quiet. Moreover, she was fearful she might have upset him.
"We could talk of my aspirations for a career in medicine," she laughed, a flippant exhale accompanied by an errant wave of her hand, "Or, perhaps we could sample more foreign delicacies," her shoulders tensed as she pulled herself up from the slouch she had been in, "And if that does not succeed in passing the time, I suppose I could always bore you with more useless information about medicine."
He watched her expression droop with a frown; he did not understand her. This was more than a restlessness provoked by a dormant season. Something plagued Sakura in a disturbing, encompassing way. He was certain of it. From the dip in her brow, to the listlessness of her gaze, and even the stiffness of her posture, he could see it. What nightmares could possibly plague her? What errant thoughts caused her discomfort? Furthermore, what was he to do about it? For only a moment, he wondered if it was all an act, a means to some end he had yet to foresee. Perhaps she did it on purpose, intonating in such a way as to raise his suspicions so that he might do. . . what?
But as quickly as the thought came, it was gone, because he could see quite clearly in those jade eyes the desperation behind her blight. She did want something from him, but it was not what he thought. She wanted a distraction.
Sasuke turned his head ever so slightly, still keeping her within his sights, but averting their contact. He felt his chest swell with the words before he'd had a chance to assess them. He spoke quietly, voice almost lost in the crackle of the fire opposite them,
"I doubt very highly that you could ever begin to bore me."
"Hm," Sakura brought her fingers to her mouth, skimming them across her lips. He felt the air calm between them when she giggled, "Careful, you have given me a rather tempting challenge."
Sasuke smirked and looked back to her, in awe and at a loss from her humor. She in turn smiled so genuinely that he wondered how anything could tamper with her spirit so thoroughly. Though he could only imagine what it might be, he thought then that he would like to do whatever in his power to keep that smile on her face, to keep her from looking out that window with such a melancholy gaze. Was she aware of how much her beauty grew when she smiled? He supposed it could be, if he told her, Sakura might keep that smile painted there indefinitely.
"I wish to indulge in anything that gives you pleasure," Sasuke said plainly, drawing the words from a place within him that her presence was quickly coming to occupy, "If that includes books of medicine, or food sampling, so be it."
"You give me pleasure," she rested her chin on her hand again, leveling him with captivating eyes, "I would like to indulge in you."
Sasuke at once became skeptical; he was unsure of what precisely that entailed, but it both delighted and petrified him. Reticent of her interest, he began,
"I do not think - ,"
"What books do you prefer?" She interrupted him quickly, quelling his protests. He was careful not to show how much she unnerved him, so he composed himself before he answered,
"I have not read enough."
"Have you experienced much music in your life?" Sakura tilted her head, studying him as he came to notice she did when he spoke.
"Only lullabies," he said, beginning to ponder how odd it was that he was her subject of choice, and that she sought out such specific details of his life, "From my childhood."
"What was it like growing up with a sibling?" she sounded a bit envious as she expounded, "I've always wondered how it might have been to grow up with another child."
Sasuke swallowed thickly. Once again, she had come too close for comfort, bordering the edge of his defenses. Did she realize that? Was she doing it on purpose? Was she willfully ignorant? Or was she simply naive? Whatever it was, surely she must know how much she affected him, try as he might to conceal it from her.
Still, he did not wish to lie to her, but he was unsure why - perhaps because she was so obstinately forthright with him? For that, he supposed that he owed her much the same in turn. . .
Or at least as much as he could give her.
"Naruto enjoyed it far more than I did," Sasuke adjusted his posture in the chair, trying to keep his eyes on her through the process.
"Why does it make you uncomfortable to speak about your family?" She questioned brusquely.
"Do you think me uncomfortable?" Sasuke cocked one of his brows. She did know. Then, why did she pester him so?
"Yes," she laughed as if it were the most obvious notion, "You become terribly restless when I ask about them."
"I had not noticed," Sasuke shrugged, hoping to portray nonchalance.
"You have just done it again," Sakura pointed accusingly at him, "Your movements become forced, it looks unnatural."
"How can you tell that?" his brows furrowed in confusion.
"When we are in unpleasant positions or situations, we pay more attention to the way we present ourselves and make adjustments accordingly. Often times we do not notice it; it is simply the body's defensive response, a product of our subconscious," she gestures to him, "When we are comfortable, or find that we are enjoying ourselves, we become more relaxed; our postures slacken, our shoulders drop - little things like that."
"Did you learn that from your medical books?" he fought the scowl that threatened to break free. How was it that she could read him like one of her journals?
"Years of etiquette training," she responded with a grin, "Years of learning how to behave in uncomfortable situations. Years of attendance at courts," she exhaled a soft laugh, "And a lifetime of watching people interact with my father."
"Because they fear him?"
"Don't you?" She asked curiously.
Sasuke supposed he did, somewhere within him; the man was the Emperor, after all, the supreme ruler of the only land he'd ever called home. But he also new real fear, that palpable, visceral response of the body and psyche that cast out rational thought, leaving room only for the response of fight or flight. He knew fear, had looked into its rapacious eyes and been consumed by its violent soul. Kizashi was not a man of fear. He was not a man to be feared.
"I respect him," he answered resolutely. Sakura expressed a thoughtful hum and nodded in understanding.
"Respect breeds respect, don't you think?" She was staring at him quite intently then, but this time, he did not feel the urge to look away.
"Yes."
"I respect you, Sasuke-kun," she said softly, without missing a beat. There was no hilarity in her tone, no indication that she was poking fun at him or goading him for her amusement. She was serious, gravely so, as it seemed the course of her joviality hinged on the response he would give her.
But there was nothing for him to think about. With a quieted, but sure voice, he said,
"You already have my respect, Sakura."
A blush crept over her skin and she turned her eyes to the window while Sasuke watched the smile resume on her face.
Sakura swung herself to the other side of her bed, fitful in a way that was becoming too familiar to her. However, that night, she would not allay the thoughts disquieting her sleep for anything. She had replayed the day in her mind over and over until she had effectively memorized every intonation of his words and tilt of his lips. She recalled the way she had managed to crack his stoicism with a simple joke and the echo of his laughter seared a smile upon her face. She let his voice linger, his words winding through her body to plant themselves in her heart.
You already have my respect.
A giddy feeling fluttered in her stomach, rolling over her and settling around her like a thick blanket. She was infatuated and enamored by him, craving the look in his eyes when he gazed upon her; the way he watched her so adamantly and attentively. He seemed to regard her with a genuine interest, to not only take in her sentiments and mentations, but to do so in stride. His subtle efforts to engage and contribute so did not go unnoticed by her. Whether it was out of a desire to humor her or simply because he did not wish to rebuff her, she did not know, but she hoped for the former. She wanted to experience more of him, to know more of him, to have more of him. She wanted to bask in these feelings he sparked within her and in the joy she felt in his presence.
She was willing to admit to herself that she, in some ways, delighted in making him so flustered with her inane questioning. It was not without its purpose, though. With each day that passed, she came to understand his coarse demeanor just a little bit more and she wondered just precisely what it was that he was harboring beneath that unflinching exterior. Sakura tossed atop her bed with a sigh.
Surely she should not find herself so fascinated with a simple guard.
But then again, Sasuke was not so simple.
"You have to be brave for me, darling. You have to listen to your brother, no matter what he says," the voice trembled, vibrating as the world surrounding them collapsed. He would not open his eyes; he did not want to see. It was difficult enough to hear the sorrow in her words.
"I do not want to go," his voice was cold, distant, rougher than it should have been.
"Be brave for me, Sasuke. I love you."
"I do not want to go!" Sasuke yelled, the ferocity in his words startling him.
"You have to be brave for me, darling," she repeated, her voice cracking and breaking, "You have to listen to your brother, no matter what he says. Be brave for me, Sasuke. I love you."
Why was she not listening to him? Did she not care what happened to them?
They should not leave. They had to stay together! How else could they protect each other?
"I will not - "
He opened his eyes and was consumed by fire. Her image burned into nothing before him. The hands that had been wrapped around him, embracing him for the last time, disintegrated. All that remained was the echo of her words and the hollow pit of her loss. Sasuke ran forward, dirt crunching beneath his feet, branches snapping against his arms, as he tried to run into the pyre ahead of him. But the closer he came, the more difficult it was to see. Smoke, a thick black haze, blurred his vision more than the tears that fell plentiful down his face. Around him, the sharp groan of buckling wood rose almost above the screams of his clan. It was too much and he went to his knees on the ground, locking his hands over his head.
Suddenly, he was being pulled again, yanked away from the tremors that upset his world and led back into the darkness, to the safety of pitch black. He did not know where he was going, but he no longer cared. He just knew that he needed to get away, and he felt a solace there, in the darkened silence, as he was dragged down, falling once more into nothing.
There was a chill in the air when he woke, cooling the perspiration on his heated skin almost instantly. Sasuke sat up sharply, one hand clutching his sheets and the other flattened against the cold wall. His chest heaved, expelling the fear and dread polluting his body with every uneven breath. His nightmares were merciless now. They had sunk their claws in his heart, teeth snapping and lashing at its rotting center. He was already a broken man, what more damage could they possibly do?
But he had to wonder, why now? For so long he believed that he had been able to lock those loathsome secrets away, somewhere far within that even he would not be able to find, scattered like pieces of torn parchment and taken by the gust of his sorrow.
But it seemed they had found him instead.
His head rose unsteadily to peer out the window. The clouds were too heavy to see the moon, but he wagered that it was late enough in the early morning for him to dress and leave the barracks.
As he stepped outside, he noticed that the snow must not have stopped falling since he left her rooms the previous day. It now reached his mid calf as he trudged forward, his normal path completely hidden from his eyes. The lake was buried beneath a few inches laid upon its thick sheet of ice and he could not even see the stone bench beside the willow tree. Silently, Sasuke hoped that the fire in her sitting room was blazing. They would need it that day.
When she opened her doors to him, she did so with a thick blanket draped over her shoulders, the train of her skirt peeking out from under it. As the night guard left, Sasuke entered and saw the robust fire aided by numerous candles to illuminate the space around them.
"How are you this morning?" She asked glumly and he supposed that that time it did have something to do with the weather.
"Well enough," he watched her tread to the back of the room where she had mistakenly left the door to her private quarters aloft. He could not help but tilt his head just so to glimpse what lay inside; perhaps it might provide some clarity to the enigma that was the woman before him, "And you?"
"I should like to set this snow aflame," she muttered bitterly, turning back to him as she released the handle. Sasuke chuckled as she carried herself listlessly to her table by the window. He could not recall ever seeing her so careless with her posture and gait. Outside of her rooms she seemed to glide through the palace grounds, an entity of poise and perfection, unhindered by the flaws of mortals. Yet, in the privacy of her rooms, in the presence of him, her guard, she appeared frighteningly human. She beckoned him forward as she took her seat, "I am afraid I have not yet become accustomed to these winters."
"No?" Sasuke pulled out his chair and sat stiffly as her eyes followed him.
"I am used to spending the winters at the other palace, but that was before the war came to our doorstep and it was not so dangerous to travel beyond these walls," she recalled pensively. He bristled at the thought.
"Surely there have been greater losses in this war," he bit out, paling as soon as the words left his mouth. Sasuke cursed himself inwardly; he should not have spoken to her so recklessly, or so crudely. It was not his place. Sakura turned her eyes on him, narrowing them sharply, her lips pursed.
"Of course," she agreed, unwilling to let him flee from the steel of her gaze, though he did not try. He held it steady, awaiting the inevitable reprimanding that he deserved for speaking out of turn. But then she softened, her expression falling as she said calmly, "I suppose it is easy to ignore the extent of this war's reach when we live inside a gilded cage. It is a privilege I often forget I am awarded."
"I did not mean - ,"
"Thank you, Sasuke-kun," she bowed her head slightly, "For reminding me."
He was silent as she returned her stare to the world outside. Swallowing his compunction, he awaited her direction.
Sasuke had not expected such humility from her. Or patience. Or forgiveness. Jarring as it was for him, it did not seem to weigh upon her much at all. Rather, she took it in stride, with all the grace and aplomb one would expect from a ruler. So, he wondered why it was he still dwelled on such a simple action so long after he'd parted from her. He laid upon his cot, staring up at the ceiling. His belly was full from dinner, the moon was high, the snow having stopped later that day, and he was warm beneath the blankets provided to him, but he could not sleep. Granted, he was not eager to seek out the dreams that had been haunting him of late, but for all purposes, he was properly comfortable enough to finally rest. The only piece of him that seemed reluctant to do so was his mind that remained intent on recounting the events of the day, to his interminable chagrin.
He should not have acted so rashly; she did not know what such a sentiment would mean to him, what he had lost in this war. She could not have known the impact her innocuous words would have on him. She could not have known that it was like a knife twisting in his gut. It had not been her fault. Like her, he had been born into it.
He wondered just how much her father told her about the war, if anything at all. Perhaps he sought to keep her from its atrocities until it was her time to assume the throne. But would the war last that long? What would she do then? If it fell on her shoulders, could she bear its weight?
Sasuke shifted beneath the covers, the anxiety of his thoughts permeating his very bones. It was not an act so uncommon to admit one was wrong, so it should not have meant so much. But it did somehow. It weighed upon him with a significance he could not yet comprehend. Much like the boundless depths of her eyes, he feared it was something he could lose himself in if he was not careful.
Still, he had difficulty staving off his thoughts of her. By now he had realized, and perhaps even accepted, that she was a fascination to him. She spoke with an intelligence and understanding beyond her years. She exuded majesty and dignity, but she was not above compassion. It made her beautiful and lethal in her attraction to him. But it also made her more dangerous than he ever would have expected her to be.
And yet he could not wait to see her the next morning. He could not wait to hear the questions she would pose to him. He could not wait to see the smile that would bless her face. He could not wait to find ways to spend the day with her.
Turning on his side, the cot giving a soft squeak beneath him, he resolved to put the whole thing, and her, out of his mind. It did him no good to think of such things, especially so late at night. Tomorrow was not so far away. He would see her then, and he knew by the morning that she would find some new way to surprise him.
She always did, after all.
"Tomorrow is your day of rest, correct?" Sakura took a seat on the stone bench facing the lake. The sun was finally out, shining on her in favor, thawing away at the snow still on the ground.
"Yes."
Sasuke had taken his place beside the willow tree, shaking his head when she offered him to sit. There was much activity already about the palace given the more pleasant conditions that morning, so he was careful to keep his distance. He did not think it wise to leave their comfort with each other open for the world to see. Sakura did not press the matter, so he assumed she had either understood and shared his reasoning, or, for once, she did not feel it was a battle she would have won.
She straightened herself and placed her bare hands in her lap. Though there was a nip in the air, she had neglected her gloves for the sole purpose and intent to take Sasuke's hand when she inevitably rose to her feet.
"You should know, I shall be inconsolable tomorrow," her tone lilted towards humorous as she peered up at him with doleful eyes. His brows furrowed the longer she kept his gaze and he bit back a more acerbic response. Kami, help him.
"You will manage," he tore himself away, focusing instead on a group of guards making their way to the training building. Why did she put him in such compromising positions intentionally? How was he meant to respond to such a leaden accusation?
If he did not know any better, he would think she were infatuated with him. Sasuke set his jaw tight, curling his hands to fists as they rested behind him. Ridiculous. How silly of him to think that. She was royalty, and she knew nothing of him.
"Do not make light of my sorrow, Sasuke-kun," he turned to her then, watching the way she wrung her fingers together, fighting off something he could not quite recognize, but had edged its way into her gaze and into her words, "How cruel."
"I did not mean to be cruel, only truthful," his hands twitched as he felt an unanticipated urge to reach for her then. He wished to take her upon his chest and soothe whatever ache he had created. Sasuke exhaled sharply; how absurd. He let his vision waver from her again. He had almost forgotten about his rest day; he was becoming accustomed to her presence at all hours. But now, it could not come soon enough; he was desperate for a reprieve from her. He needed to breathe, to think, to cleanse himself of her company, even if only for a day.
"Why are you so quiet all the time?" he heard the tremor in her voice, but it was not despondence, "It is infuriating."
Sasuke seethed as he turned on her.
"Then perhaps it would benefit you to replace me," he snapped. Sakura shot to her feet and closed the short distance between them.
"Why should I want anybody else?" she was shaking with fury before him, tendrils of wild pink locks pulled free, framing her beautifully twisted face.
"You scrutinize me and question me every second I am around you. Do you enjoy making me miserable?" he clenched his jaw and forbade himself from saying anything else. That had not come out as he had intended. He was too harsh and he saw that something in her eyes crumble as his words hit her with the full force of his ire.
"I do not seek to make you miserable," her jade orbs shimmered as she raised a dainty hand between them. He flinched as he watched her push forward, pressing her palm flat to his chest. Slowly, she lowered her eyes and spread her fingers out over the space above his heart. His breath hitched; surely she could feel how rapidly it began to beat then. But if she did, she made no comment on it. She did not subject him to her merciless observation or lecture him on what his obvious reaction possibly meant. She only parted her lips, drawing in a sharp breath, before uttering a quiet plea, "I wish only to understand you."
Sasuke took up his hand, reaching for hers, ready to take it in his grasp, but she turned away. He faltered, her name caught in his throat, as she began walking back, towards her quarters. Despondent and with his eyes cast to the ground, Sasuke followed a safe distance behind.
He was distracted. He could still evade attacks, but he couldn't land a punch. Nobody volunteered to spar with Uzumaki Sasuke, not unless they had a desire wind up face down on the ground, but suddenly everyone was eager for their chance at a victory against him. It never came, but there were too many close calls. Too many times his defenses came up late. Too many times he nearly lost his footing trying to sidestep a leg. Too many times his fist could not meet its target. He was distracted.
And he knew precisely why.
Sasuke bowed to his opponent and stepped aside for the next soldier to spar. He trekked to one of the open windows, taking in the cooling breeze that kissed his perspiring skin. Taking up the end of his wrappings, he started unwinding them from each arm, casting his gaze to the gardens outside.
He was distracted because she was there, sitting on the stone bench beside the willow tree. Dutifully at her side were her ladies in waiting, every one of them with a perfect view inside the dojo. Wiping the sweat from his brow, he caught her gaze and tried to quell the feeling that rose within him when she smiled. She was dressed in a bright yellow jūnihitoe that kissed the ground as she sat. Paired with her pink hair twisted high, she was a vision against the dreary absence of color outside. As he watched her, he saw her shiver against the wind and pull her robes closer.
Sasuke frowned. Would she freeze out there just to see him? What was she thinking?
Coming to kneel on the floor, he stuffed his cotton bindings in his pack, then pulled out the rest of his uniform. He redressed hastily, throwing on his tunic and then his vest. With his bag on his shoulder, he left the building and walked out into the frigid winter air. He walked along the trail towards the gardens with a sour expression on his face; it was his day of rest, and yet he still could not be rid of her. When he finally came upon the Emperor's daughter and her envoy, she looked all too pleased to see him.
"You should be inside, Haruno-sama, with a guard," he addressed her directly, sternly, "Keeping warm."
"I miss my garden," she simpered. Her ladies petted her affectionately, consolingly, all the while shivering in the harsh wind. Would she subject them to the same torture just for her own insipid impulses?
"Do you not think you have seen enough of it now?" He asked, though he knew she had not paid any attention to it at all. He knew, because he had been too busy paying attention to her to properly fight.
"Not at all. I am quite happy to spend the rest of my days out here," she looked to her ladies, only one of whom nodded in agreement. He recognized her; Hinata. Sakura turned back to him, simpering with a devious glint in her eyes, "You are so gracious to be concerned for us, Uzumaki-san."
Sasuke clenched the hand that gripped the strap of his pack tighter.
"It is my duty," he said flatly, but Sakura could see the slightest hint of a scowl breaking across his rigid features. With a bow of her head, he turned on his heel and made for the barracks. There was no doubt in his mind that she had ventured outside for the sole purpose of being able to watch him. Why was it that she took so much pleasure in playing these games with him? In toying with him so? And why was it that he could not even have a moment of peace without her? Not even with his own thoughts?
Sasuke resolved to prove his point by emerging not a half hour later to pass through the gardens. He smirked to himself, satisfied when he saw that Sakura was nowhere to be found.
She could not shake the image of Sasuke, perspiring and half naked, as he pit himself against his fellow soldiers. He commanded attention through his technique and skill. Every sweep of his arm or kick of his leg had kept her captivated. Even if she had wanted to, she would not have been able to look away.
After their spat the previous day, she had let him stay outside, finding that she needed some peace of mind and marveling at the concept that it might not involve him. But now, she was unable to stall her thoughts of him. She wanted to think of him. She wanted to remember the way he had so strictly chastised her for being out in the cold. She wanted to imagine how he might act around her tomorrow. She wanted him. She wanted him as she had never wanted any courtier that had gone so far as to pledge their love to her. Admitting that thought alone stirred new fantasies to life within her.
Sakura imagined that, with all his carefully concealed passion, Sasuke would conjure a gaze that would promise much more than mere words ever could. She desired to see him look at her in such a way, the same way it was described in novels when a man gazed at the woman they adored. Her cheeks flushed hot as she envisioned what it might be like to be worshipped by a man like Sasuke.
No, she thought. Not a man like him, just him.
Just him.
Closing her eyes, she laid herself back on the bed, allowing her mind to procure him above her with his hooded orbs and unkempt hair and roguish smirk. She allowed herself to imagine the way that smirk might feel against her skin as he moved his mouth upward. Kami. Sakura took in a sharp breath, frozen as she imagined he had stolen it from her lips with his own. She pictured him looking down on her with a primal gaze, ready to devour her.
An ache settled itself in the region between her thighs then, pulsating with an angry, urgent need. It was insistent that she was missing something in that moment. She responded to its call, bringing her hands up to travel along her torso, skimming the tops of her breasts that peaked out from her slip in a teasing motion. Reaching to her thighs, she gathered the silk of her nightgown and pulled it above her navel. The cool air hit her suddenly, a stark contrast to the heat pooling in her abdomen.
For a few heavy breaths, Sakura worried the fabric in her hands, biting her lip as her mind's version of Sasuke settled between her legs. Her fingers inched towards the heat of her entrance, testing the edges of her desire. She skirted the rim of her opening and found herself wet at just the thought of him. How could he command such responses from her when he was not even near her? Sakura pined for his worship and yet, it was her body that worshipped him. It was her body begging for his attentions.
She slipped her fingers along her sex, the friction pulling her back into an arc and a soft moan from her lips. Though she knew there was no one around to hear it, she felt the heat of embarrassment flush through her at the sound. But she was not deterred. Rather, she desired to feel what else she could do with her suddenly mystical fingers. Carefully, she worked one inside and found a sweet pain as she did, stretching herself to accommodate something she had never had to before.
Her hands were slight and soft, but she wondered how it would feel if they were Sasuke's fingers instead. What if his large hands were holding her thighs as she quivered and cried while he attended to her most intimate parts with his mouth?
Sakura uttered a forlorn moan and slid her finger out. Surely she was going crazy. Was she supposed to feel this way for another person? Was it natural to feel such passion for him? Rolling over, she clamped her thighs tightly together, but it did nothing to pacify her discomfort.
Was it normal to feel so dissatisfied? Where was her sweet release? Her climax of passion? She twisted beneath her sheets.
Where was he?
"Are you lonely?" Sakura fingered the edge of the page. She had stopped mid sentence through an article on the effects of traumatic experiences to mental health, and raised her eyes to his adept gaze. Sasuke had been listening to her, giving his full attention, because for some odd reason when she read aloud to him, the subject became far more interesting. But her question had caught him off guard. She blinked rapidly, as though she had startled not only him, but herself, too. She scrambled to explain herself and elaborated, "Without your family, Sasuke-kun, are you lonely?"
He tensed under her widened gaze. He had gone so long without his family that he had forgotten what it was to not be lonely.
"I suspect you know the answer," he said slowly, carefully, "And I suspect you are only asking because you would like me to ask the same question," Sakura released the page, chewing her lip and leaned back in her chair. The flush of pink in her cheeks confirmed his suspicions. With a satisfied smirk, he said, "But I know that answer, too."
"That is enough," she tore her eyes away and stood abruptly, dropping the journal carelessly to the table. Sasuke followed suit, getting to his feet simply because she had, and then recoiled within himself for the silly action. She paced to the end of the room before rounding on him, "You say I make you miserable and yet I am the one suffering at your hand as you mock me."
"No," Sasuke frowned and took a cautious step toward her. She folded her arms over her chest and turned away from him.
"I would never mock you," he swallowed harshly, attempting to navigate his language delicately without giving himself away. But when she did not turn, he stepped toward her again, "I do not wish to make you miserable."
She did not tense as she heard him approach, so he held his hand out, as though he might reach for her. He realized he wanted to. His eyes were tracing the pale curve of her neck, the nape of which was exposed beneath the intricate wrap of her hair. Gingerly, he let his fingers settle there at the base, and they were tickled by the few tendrils that had slipped free. Sasuke felt her pulse quicken, thrumming through the soft skin beneath the pads of his fingers and he heard the sharp hitch of her breath as he slowly flattened his palm against her.
He felt hot, like a flame had been ignited in his blood, but he was unsure if it was shame or remorse. . . or something else. Whatever it might be, he felt it spur him to touch more of her, to explore whatever else she bore to him. The fact that she had not flinched from him, but had instead leaned back into his hand, was only encouraging him more.
"Forgive me, then," she cleared her throat and turned back to him. Sasuke let his hand drop to his side, his gaze slipping over her, unable to focus on any one aspect of her, least of all her benign eyes, "I do enjoy your company, Sasuke-kun."
"As do I," he nodded once, in affirmation, and she smiled in response.
"Then, shall we be lonely together?" she extended her hand to him, palm up in offering, but he clenched his fists. He could not, should not, touch her again. Sakura maintained the tilt of her lips, even in the face of his rejection, and led him back to the table. They resumed their seats and she picked up the book, turning to the page where they'd left off. Her gentle voice filled the room once again.