NOTES:

Hi everyone,

First of all, thanks to all those who have taken the time to read my story and MANY thanks for the reviews. Your support really cheers me up and makes me want to go on with this story, and your insight is really helpful.

I also want to clarify that this story will be focusing on the confusing emotions and misunderstandings that stand between Sasuke and Sakura. Much like in real life, things will not just magically fall into place. I will try to set this story in a bigger plot with a meaningful background, but I have to admit I'm still a beginner at this, so I'm not sure how it will turn out.

Morever, I want to emphasize how being in ANBU affects the characters' lives, emotions and development.

In this chapter, I will go more into depth into Sakura's and Sasuke's thinking, yet, be aware that not all is revealed yet. There are other issues that make them who they are today, and why they can't just come together that will be revealed... later on.

Enjoy!


Sasuke had left the Ichiraku right after having finished his bowl of ramen, annoyed with the blond's prying in his private affairs. Hanare was his business, one he felt no inclination in sharing. It's not like his stupid friend would understand anyway. Yes, they were lovers. Or maybe fuck buddies was a more accurate description. She didn't want more from him and neither did he from her. And that had been fine by him… up until a month ago. After that night, everything had changed. And yet, nothing had changed. He had hoped they had finally broken the ice barrier standing between them, thought they had at last overcome their own shortcomings and doubts. It had all felt so obvious. It was obvious…. they could only belong to each other. And yet, she was still running away. That night had been the only thing she had given him of herself.

A slouched figure topped with messy silver hair marched out of a bar standing along the street he was walking on. With a small nod, Kakashi fell in step with his old student, both walking silently in the same direction. After a while, the silver-haired man broke the silence accompanying their steps:

"Sasuke?"

"Hm," acknowledged the dark-haired man, hands in his pockets.

"What the heck is going on?" asked Kakashi, voice laced with seriousness.

The younger man slowed down and turned his face to look at him, one eyebrow raised in a silent question.

"First Sakura and then Hanare. Or maybe not in that order. What are you playing at?"

"I'm not playing."

"No? That's certainly not what it looks like. Naruto's angry you know."

"Let him be."

"So you don't care? This whole mess means nothing to you, nor the consequences it has on our team."

"There is no Team 7 anymore. You all should stop pretending like there is one. We haven't worked all together in years. We all know why."

"And why is that?"

"Her. She left. She left us." He paused, eyes turning south, gazing without seeing at the floor beneath his feet. "She left me."

"She never left, Sasuke."

"She did. You and Naruto are just too hooked on the past to allow your small bubble to explode and actually confront reality. It's finished. Team 7 is finished."

"If that's how you see it…"

"It is. And so does she."

"You don't know that."

"Stop being stupid, Kakas-"

"You don't! You don't understand her. You never have."

"Oh? And I suppose you do then?" asked the Uchiha angrily.

"I do," answered Kakashi.

"So I am the fool then?"

"Possibly." The older man paused for a moment. "Or maybe you're just not able to see what's right under your nose. You want her so much, you can't even properly look at her."

"That's your assumption."

"It's not an assumption. You know I'm smarter than that. Especially when it comes to you three knock heads. I also know you're not telling everything."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"You slept with her, didn't you?" asked Kakashi,

"What?"

"Sakura. You slept with her."

"How did you come up to that conclusion?"


That was all they could think about...

She remembered…

He remembered…

That one night…

That one and only night…

Their teeth clashed first, both too much in a hurry to taste each other to angle for a proper kiss. It didn't matter. Nothing about them had to be proper. It all came down to feeling each other, touching each other.

Then, lips started their dance, awkward and aggressive. They caressed each other with a hunger close to starvation. Sakura didn't know what she was doing, how she was supposed to do it, but she was determined to take as much of him as she could before retreating to the painful dull of reality and his all-consuming absence. She would satisfy her hunger tonight. She had to.

She whimpered as she felt his hands grabbed her sides, one thumb pressing against the underside of her breast as he roughly pushed her against the wall, their lips still feasting of each other. She felt a fleeting heat tease her belly, one she had felt occasionally without ever being able to turn it into something more.

Sasuke didn't trust himself to stop. He knew he wouldn't. Couldn't. There, was the girl who made his blood boil in a frantic manner every time she spoke, be it from anger, annoyance, desire, longing, despair. And she was biting his lips, gluing her face to his with an intensity he had never encountered before and he wanted more of it, more of her, more of everything. And he would have it.


September 4th

The dawn was just settling in and a rare bird was to be heard here and there, calling out the others in anguish. Or what she supposed to be anguish. Whatever. Sakura was standing on the red wooden bridge that linked her old Team 7 training grounds with the busier parts of the village. Leaning on the barricade she gazed past the line of trees, further and further... where it all began. She didn't know why exactly she had come here. When waking up this morning, she had felt a wave of nostalgia wash over her with such a frightening intensity that she had no choice but to do something about it. So had she come here. She had walked up the small canal like she used to when she was younger, taken the same turns she had taken all those years ago. But this time her pace had been unhurried, not like when she was younger. Back in her early genin days, she used to run there, eager and excited and frightened… a delicious mix of sensations that no longer coursed through her veins.

The stillness around her was addicting and she wondered for a second if she shouldn't make this bridge her own refuge. Kakashi had his monument for the dead, Ino had her flower shop, she could pick up a bridge, right? Right.

"You're mine," she muttered at the red wood under her palms, a firm grasp on the barrier she was leaning on.

But all too soon, her internal clock for punctuality rang alarm bells in her head, and she freed the dead wood of her strong grip. After having walked further up the canal for another ten minutes she took a turn left to walk to her recently assigned training grounds. Those weren't like the bright green forest of her teenage years but an underground facility. The entrance was a sad grey metallic door with two masked guards posted on each side. She knew one of them was a sensory type, able to identify each and every ANBU's chakra, so as not to let anyone suspicious within the underground compound. She waited for the small nod from one of the guards that allowed her to walk up to the door, which opened itself at her approach.

Getting used to the dark underground alleys had taken some time, but she could find her way in this maze with closed eyes now. Masked and unmasked shinobis passed her by, each going on about their business, few sparing her a glance or acknowledging her presence with a polite nod. This place reeked of order and discipline and small chit-chat in the corridors was a rare occurrence. Here more than anywhere else, people stayed within their team, hidden in the shadow of a renowned Captain and went on with their bloody duties. She was no different.

Coming out one of the main artery of the underground compound, she found herself in a big oval room with different desks, crowded with waiting fighters coming in or going out, some in shiny ANBU uniforms some half-covered in blood. Among those, she saw a tall dark-haired shinobi, and even though she could only see his back, she knew who it was right away. She could have recognized that body anywhere. Sasuke. From afar, he seemed to be listening intently to what another ANBU was saying, nodding his head from time to time with arms that seemed to be crossed. She imagined the way his brows were probably furrowed in concentration or in annoyance... probably both... imagined the way his dark eyes fixed the talking figure in front of him, unwavering and intense.

If she where to disappear tomorrow, die forgotten in an empty field, she knew she would think about his eyes before drifting away, if her dying consciousness allowed her. This was the part of him she loved most. His mouth was harsh and inflexible, his hands carried too much danger to convey a sense of safeness, his body was too sinfully attractive for her to handle, his heart had been torn to pieces for too long to be ever properly healed. So, she would only take his eyes in her memory should fate claim her. Not that they were hers to take, but she was selfish, and it's not like he would ever know what her mind claimed for itself.

When he had first come back, she had thought that maybe they could move forward, that they could fit back as a team. She had been young and naïve, hooked on a crush that had gone on for too long, obsessed by an absence that had determined their choices for so long. And then suddenly, that goal had been reached, all their hopes and failures and doubts had no reason to be. He was there. He was alive. He was with them. She had been scared of him of course, remembering all too clearly the sound of his angry chidori, the blood thirst in his eyes, the smile on his lips as he had envisioned killing her.

She had told herself that she could forgive, could see past the mistakes and betrayal. She had convinced herself it all belonged to the past. But every time she had been in his presence, her heart had beaten frantically, not from silly excitement like when she had been younger, but from sheer fear, uncontrollable anger, a desire to hurt and flee all at the same time. The confusing emotions had been driving her mad, bringing her to the point of exhaustion. She would cry herself to sleep, night after night, wishing for the madness to finally stop, willing her mind to command her emotions. But it didn't work. It could never have worked. She knew that now.

Looking at him now, standing with the powerful aura of a renowned ANBU Captain, she couldn't help but remember this one day, this one day that had changed everything, changed her by finally making her accept it could never be…

A year after his return, when he had just joined the ANBU squad, she had been alone with him, healing a messy wound on his abdomen, the type of wound people didn't expect to find on a ninja of Sasuke's caliber. But for all his strength, he too was bound to fail sometimes. And in those cases, she was here to heal him. They had been alone in the small room made of white walls, her glowing hands on his freshly closed wound. She remembered how her throat had been tight from anxiousness, how her palms sweated under the stress. That day, in that hospital room, she had decided that she would talk to him. That she would tell him she wished for the awkwardness between them to stop, that she was exhausted… that she wasn't asking anything from him but she wanted to be there for him somehow, sometimes… that for the well-being of Team 7 and her own fragile mental sanity, they had to talk… just that.

Her glowing hands having finished their work, he had stood up and put his torn shirt back on.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Silent steps headed for the door.

"Sasuke?"

He stopped but didn't turn around to face her.

"Um… I was thinking maybe… Do you think that we could…" she stuttered, mumbled words and racing thoughts hindering her ability to express herself properly.

His tired body turned around and cold unreadable eyes fixed her.

"What do you have to say, Sakura?"

"… I just wish that we could … somehow … mend things…"

"What things?"

"Us," she breathed, brave green eyes holding his frozen gaze.

"Is there an 'us'?" he asked.

"… I don't know… well there's the team but…"

He sighed, and she thought she caught a glimpse of anger shine in his onyx orbs. His upper body turned around to face the door again, his feet already moving with a set purpose.

"You don't want to?" she asked, her voice sounding broken to her own ears.

"Let me be," he said, one hand slowly resting on the wounded area on his belly, the other hand clenched at the pain that still coursed through his body. "I don't need you."

I don't need you

I don't need you

I don't need you…

.. And so she had been fixed. He didn't need her, didn't want her. He had said so himself. Then and there, in that room, he had thrown her out of his life. Not that she had ever been a part of it. It was over, just like that… four words sealed her fate, breaking her heart one last time, relieving her mind of the anguish of hopeless hope, freeing uncontrollable anger and bitterness, letting sorrow and silent fury overcome her being.


September 6th

That night, walking back home after a mission that went more smoothly than expected, Sakura was letting her gaze wander across the small houses bordering the path she was walking on in an attempt to distract herself from the dark presence behind her. Almost inaudible footsteps were following her… had been following her since she had stepped out of the ANBU compound. Her tired body was tensing up with rising anger, her skin tickling with the feel of his eyes roaming over her back. Her anxiety rose with each stride she took, each one a futile attempt at escaping this reality.

And then she stopped, hearing the footsteps behind her do the same. Where is this going? she thought. Standing in the middle of the dusty road, she slowly turned to face him, letting cold green eyes stare at him.

"Why?" asked the pinkette.

A simple question, one that raised so many more. He wished he knew why. He wished she did too.

But they were lost fools

Assassins tortured by the sound of dying screams

Hands itching at night for all the sorrow they plagued this world with

Throats aching with an unquenched thirst for love

Hearts beating at the sounds of flying weapons

Minds torn apart at the thought of what could have been

Bodies awaiting their fatal hour

He remained silent, standing still, eyes locked on hers, void of answers. The chilly wind made her pink locks dance around her face, partly hiding her from his gaze.

"Why?" she repeated. "Why are you here again? Following me when we both know this doesn't mean anything. Pretending for a moment… only to ignore better the day after. Why?"

"So it's just anything to you?"

"It was never meant to be something. Not with you. Not with me. Not for us."

"And who decided that?" he asked, tone accusing, dark eyes not leaving her.

"I didn't," she breathed.

"No? Then who? Because I didn't either."

His answer was met with a face that had turned into stone, pale and sharp, one he couldn't read no matter how much he tried to break through the mask she had just given life too.

"I see," was all she said, eyes suddenly appearing moist in the fading light. "Go home, Sasuke." She slowly turned on her heels and started to walk away, small steps carrying the source of his pain away. His gaze followed her until she disappeared from his sight, his tortured mind finally admitting to what he had always known deep down...

I will take everything from you

Regardless of your wishes

Regardless of your tears

Because you're mine

Always have been

Always will be

"It's just you and me in this world, Sakura," he murmured at the silently growing shadows.