love at first sight
theeflowerchild
neuf
A part of him can't believe that Suigetsu would put him out like this, but another part of him—a much larger, saner part—believes he should have known.
He should have had Naruto pick him up, Sasuke thinks, when Suigetsu's train rolls to a stop almost an hour after he claimed it would. What made him offer to get their annoying friend anyway when Naruto had clearly stated he would? And what made him think that his friend would have enough respect to at least text him that he was running late, let alone tell him in the first place that he, obviously, caught a later train?
He's nearly the last off, with a wily grin and sleep still clear in his lavender eyes. He should smack that shit-eating-grin right off his pasty face, Sasuke thinks, but he stays put against the wall, hands stuffed deep in the pockets of his jeans. He waits for the silver-haired idiot to approach him, and he does, slowly, tauntingly.
Sasuke thinks, in passing, that it must truly say something about him, the fact that he surrounds himself with nuisances disguised as his best friends.
But, then again, Sasuke thinks a lot of things.
When said nuisance is finally in front of him, smirking like the bastard he is, eyes lit with amusement, he claps Sasuke on the shoulder. "Long time, no see, fucker."
With a scowl, he pushes the hand off of him. "You're nearly an hour late."
Suigetsu's eyes light with amusement. "Sorry about that. Train traffic, you know how it is."
He shoots him a nasty glare, and begins walking past him without so much as an offering to follow.
"Don't be like that!" Suigetsu calls after him, but Sasuke can hear the grin in his voice. "My phone was dead."
"I'm sure," he snaps, but stops nonetheless, waits for his friend to catch up to him. "We're taking the subway."
He rolls his eyes. "No car, still?"
"I live in the city." He sighs. "Why on earth do I need a car?"
"Oh, I don't know," he quips. "To get around?"
"I got here just fine, didn't I?" he asks dully as he approaches the turnstile. "I have an extra swipe on my card—though, I'm not sure if you really deserve it anymore."
Suigetsu rolls his eyes, and flashes a toothy smile. "Sorry, Sasuke-chan."
"Don't call me that," he hisses, a fierce glower surfacing on his face. He passes through the turnstile toward the subway, and hands him the card. "Seriously, take it now, before I change my mind."
He does as he's told, swiping himself through, but not without the same, sickening smile plastered on his damnable face. "Whatever you say."
With a sigh that's almost a groan, he begins walking toward the trains, Suigetsu in tow. What a nuisance, he thinks again, this stupid excuse of a friend he just had to be stuck with in college, because the idiot just had to go and get married and move out on his own. "Why am I letting you stay with me again?"
"Because I'm a great friend," he says, without missing a beat. "And because you adore me."
"I don't think that's it," he deadpans.
"Don't be such a brat, Uchiha," he says, but it sounds more like a reprimand, only annoying him further.
The train rolls to a stop in front of them with a loud screech, much to Sasuke's relief, or, at least, to the relief of his eardrum's, as it drowns out Suigetsu's unbearably loud voice. He steps onto the train without another word, maybe only slightly enjoying the annoyed look on his friend's face from the raucous sound of the subway cart, a sound he's obviously not used to.
It's rush hour, the train ride is express, and quiet as strangers push up against them to grab hold of the bars.
When they step off a few stops later, Suigetsu makes a disgusted face. "How do you do that every day?"
He shrugs. "You get used to it."
"I don't think I would," he claims, frowning. "The city sucks, man."
They step out of the dingy subway into the fresh air of the city, and Sasuke counts his lucky stars that he can already see his apartment, only less than a block away. "As if Oto is any better."
He scrunches his nose and shakes his head. "Better than this."
His apartment comes up shortly, but not without enough sarcastic comments from his asshole ex-roommate about how incredibly dirty the city is, and how absolutely annoying the commute must be. Sasuke questions why he had to choose one of the top floors during the long, suffocating elevator ride—maybe the longest of his life, he thinks. Suigetsu's voice scratches his ears like sharp nails, and he debates asking the man to shut up, but he goes quiet with the "ding!" of the elevator bell.
For a moment, Sasuke remembers that it didn't used to be like this, and being around his friends never made him feel so sour, never felt like a chore. Maybe, he tries to believe, that it is because he has matured, and that he has changed drastically since college, and not because, no matter where he is, he'd much rather be someplace else.
Or, rather, with someone else.
"Damn, man," he says as they walk into the hallway. "Living up here must have cost you a pretty penny."
Sasuke rolls his eyes. "I'm not talking to you about money."
"Yeah, well, you don't even have to!" Suigetsu whispers with wide eyes as he unlocks his door, revealing an apartment that's maybe a little to big for such a tame bachelor as Sasuke. "Your job must be paying you well. Now I see why you stick around here!"
He scoffs. "As if I'd leave, anyway and, what, work at your hospital?"
"Hey, I worked my butt off to get there!" he sneers, carelessly dropping his heavy backpack by the door. It hits the ground with a resounding thump, causing a frown to surface on Sasuke's face. "What the fuck crawled up your butt and died?"
Sasuke raises an eyebrow, his permanent-scowl only, almost impossibly, deepening. "Excuse me?"
"I mean, don't get me wrong," he says, smirking. "You've always been a jackass, but like, you've managed to level up, or something—congratulations!"
"What does that even mean?" he asks, throwing his jacket over a chair in the foyer, and ushering Suigetsu to do the same.
"You seem…" he trails off, thinking, before smirking. "Crankier than usual."
Not before shooting him another displeased glare, he begins walking toward the kitchen, a kitchen obviously too big, and clearly unused. "I don't get cranky."
"Well, I'd beg to differ," he says, following. He plops down in a chair at the kitchen table. "You've always been a little bitch, Uchiha."
He scowls. "Do you want a place to say?"
He raises his hands in defense. "I just tell it like it is."
"Or, maybe, how you see it in your own little la-la land," he counters. "Tell me, is it hard being that clearly vacant all that time?"
"I don't know, is it hard having that stick shoved up your ass all the time?" he argues.
"More comfortable than it must be being as dumb as you are." He smirks, and reaches into his pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes before sitting down across from his friend.
Suigetsu frowns. "You still smoke?"
He pulls out a long, thin cigarette, and places it between his lips. "Obviously."
"And in your apartment?" he asks. "No wonder it stinks in here."
He lights it, takes the first drag long, and slow, deliberately exhaling at his friend with a tiny smirk, ashing it in the tray in the middle of the table.
"You're disgusting." He waves his hand, clearing the smoke, scowling marginally. "That'll kill you, you know."
Sasuke rolls his eyes. "So I've been told," by little, pink faeries, with tiny smiles, and jingle-bell laughs, he remembers.
He'd quit, for her.
"I'd hope so, you work at a fucking hospital." He leans his elbow on the table, cupping his chin in his hand, and releases an all-too-toothy grin. "Speaking of which, how's that going?"
He raises an eyebrow, ashes his cigarette. "Fine. Like always."
"Just fine?" he questions. "Not amazingly, wonderfully perfect?"
He scoffs. "Is anybody supposed to find their job perfect?"
He shrugs. "Maybe not, but I find my job in Oto a little more than fine."
Sasuke rolls his eyes, and takes another long drag of his cigarette, thinking. Finally, he says, "Well, I guess it's more than fine." At least, he thinks, some of the people there are—but he won't say that, of course.
"Do you love it?" Suigetsu asks, his smirk turning into a little smile that makes Sasuke uncomfortable.
He makes a clear noise of disgust. "What is this, sharing time?" he sneers, putting out his cigarette, standing up, and walking toward the fridge. "I'm not really interested in talking about my feelings—do you want a beer?" He throws open the door, and grabs two before his friend can even answer.
Suigetsu laughs, and nods his head. "Hey, two men can talk about their feelings."
"Well, not this man." Sasuke sits back down, passes his friend a drink. "Do you have anything else to say, or can we move on?"
"You seem unhappy," he says.
Sasuke rolls his eyes. "Why does everybody keep saying that?" He opens up his drink using the corner of the table, and it snaps open quickly, steam letting out the top. "Let me guess, you've been talking to Naruto?"
He shrugs. "We talk."
"Too often, it seems." He takes a swig of his drink, and slams the bottle back on the table. "What, don't you guys have anything better to talk about than me?"
"You're our topic of choice, of course. What else would we gossip about?" he teases.
"Stop worrying about me, and start worrying about your idiot selves," he grumbles, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms.
"Are you happy, Sasuke?" he asks, finally, leaning toward his friend. "Are you happy, here, in Konoha? Have you ever considered that, maybe, just getting out of the suburbs wasn't enough?"
He pauses for a moment, and mulls over the question, only to sneer. There's no other place for Sasuke than Konoha. If Naruto can stay, why can't he? Of course he belongs here, and of course he's happy—confused, sure, and maybe a little unsettled at the moment, but unhappy? How could he be unhappy when he spends his days surrounded by flurries of pink, and sparkling emeralds? "Have you ever considered that you're fucking dramatic?"
He purses his lips. "Orochimaru is interested in you."
Sasuke takes another long drink, and says, "Who the fuck is Orochimaru?"
"Head of Oto General," he explains with an annoyed sigh. "You've met him. My boss, sort of. He's a neurosurgeon, one of the best, so he's not really involved with my department, but he runs the hospital."
"And you're telling me this, why?" he asks.
"Well, he's the best neurosurgeon around," he says. "And you graduated Valedictorian of our class, and as a double major. Of course he's interested in you."
He raises an eyebrow. "I don't really remember him."
"He offered you that position," he reminds him with a frown. "In the neurology department, but you turned it down for that position under Tsunade. Don't you remember?"
He thinks for a moment, and then nods his head slowly. "Vaguely."
Suigetsu rolls his eyes. "He's the tall, skinny guy, with the long black hair, and the—"
"I get it," he cuts him off, frowning. "What about him?"
"Well, like I said: he's interested in you," he repeats. "Interested in offering you a position."
"So, what, you're not only talking about me to Naruto now, but to the chair of your hospital?" he asks, glaring. "Really, don't you morons have anything better to do?"
"Hey, he approached me about you." He throws his hands up in defense, smirking. "He knows we graduated together. I was the only other person from our year that was offered a position in Oto."
"And he's offering me the position again?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.
"Yeah." He begins reaching into his pocket, and produces a small, white card with large, black lettering on it, and slides it across the table. "He'd like you to give him a call."
He looks at the card for a moment, reads the number, and the tiny, script writing at the top, and shakes his head. "I don't need to call him."
He raises an eyebrow. "Why?"
"Because I'm not interested," he says, and stands. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a shift I have to attend to. Some of us can't just take off work for a whole week and fuck around—"
"Sasuke, wait." He stands, frowning. "You can't just ignore me—"
He spends the rest of his drink down the drain, doesn't bother making eye contact with Suigetsu. "I'm not ignoring you. I considered the offer, and I'm not interested."
He sighs, running a hand through his sleek, silver hair. "You didn't consider anything."
"Actually, you're right." He turns around, and leans against the counter. "There wasn't really anything to consider, because I'm not interested."
Suigetsu shakes his head. "Sasuke Uchiha, you are a stubborn fuck."
"Drinks are in the fridge," he explains, walking towards the foyer. "You're welcome to the food. You know where the guest bedroom is. Don't do anything stupid, I'll be back by no later than eight, tonight." He grabs his jacket off the back of his chair, and sighs loudly, exasperated. "If you need anything, please, refrain from texting me."
He laughs. "Whatever you say, master!" he yells, only annoying his friend further. "Oh, by the way, Sasori is having another one of his infamous parties tonight, and we're going! No buts, you'll be home early enough!"
He slams the door shut.
Sasuke knows, at this point in his life, it is far too late for him to leave Konoha. He knows that, after growing up here, going to school here, and then college, and then medical school here, and settling in a comfortable job here, he cannot leave.
He knows that, after meeting her, he cannot leave Konoha.
The thought is tempting, though: just picking up and leaving, starting a new job under a world-renowned neurosurgeon he had of course heard of, no matter what he had told Suigetsu. Of course he remembers the man's offer, only a few years back, to make Sasuke a star, a gem, and, perhaps in the future, head of his own hospital. He remembers being horrifically torn, and then choosing to stay not only for himself, but also for his family, and for his friends.
Sasuke knows that he knows nothing but Konoha, nothing but rolling suburbs, and cluttered city streets. He knows no other subways, no other shortcuts, no other favorite restaurants, or favorite spots to read, knows no other bike trails, or bookstores, or best coffee shops. He's never been anywhere else, never lived anywhere else, never been trained to exist anywhere else properly, never learned a new routine—and Sasuke is a man of routine. He wouldn't be particularly interested in learning anything new, anyway.
Sasuke enjoys his life, his comfortable lifestyle that he's grown to know and love. It doesn't even occur to him to question his surroundings, or his job, or the people he chooses to love and surround himself with. The idea of picking up and leaving, no matter how alluring, is ridiculous, and unrealistic. He's happy where he is and, at some rate, no matter how young he is, he feels too old to pick up and leave, now.
Sasuke thinks that, maybe, if Suigetsu had asked him a year ago, he would have considered it. Maybe if Suigetsu had presented the offer to him before she had twirled into his life like a ballerina, spun it with gold, and fixed him in his place, maybe for good, he would have taken it. He would have left the place he had called home for far too long, and moved somewhere new, somewhere fresh, and started from the beginning. Maybe, to some extent, Suigetsu is right: maybe Konoha isn't enough for him, but that doesn't matter anymore.
It is impossible, now. Her gold holds him too tightly, too securely in his little job as head of a department. He can't leave, he can barely move, for fear of something going wrong, for a string pulling too tight, and a string snapping—
"You alright, Uchiha?" he's interrupted by a feminine voice at his doorway.
He sighs, barely jumps, and leans back into his chair with a tiny shake of his head. "Tsunade-sama, hello," he says, and nods respectfully. "Come in, please."
Her heels click loudly as she enters the room, a tiny smirk on her pretty face. Sasuke has heard all the rumors about her—or, well, about her age. He himself questions how possible it is for a woman so beautiful, so youthful, to be in her late fifties, even sixties.
She gracefully takes a seat across from him, crossing her long legs and placing her large, dainty hands on her knees. "I haven't checked in with you in a while, so I figured I'd stop by."
He raises an eyebrow in questioning, but nods his head nonetheless. "I see."
"Things are going smoothly, I assume," she says, her tiny smirk widening into something a little more menacing. "You would have told me, of course, if something went wrong, correct?"
He watches her carefully for a moment, biting down a smirk of his own at her infamous intimidation, before nodding slowly. "Everything is fine."
She smiles, more terrifying than alluring, though he'd never admit that. "Very good, Uchiha. I expect nothing less."
He shrugs. "That's what you hired me for, right?"
She raises her eyebrows. "Among other things."
He pauses for a moment, watches her carefully; he begins to notice the twitching in her fingers, and the shifting of her honey-colored eyes. She's tapping her foot, and fidgeting in her seat.
She's nervous.
His eyes begin to narrow. "Is that all?"
Her eyes sparkle with something he can't name. "... Not quite."
He sighs loudly, running a hand through his already messy hair. "What are you really here for, Tsunade-sama?"
She purses her lips. "Well, now that you mention it—"
He nearly groans.
"—I do have a little request for you," she finishes with a pretty smile. She flips a long, blonde ponytail over her narrow shoulder, and sighs. "I'm a busy woman, as you know."
He nods his head, decides not to comment on her excessive drinking on the job, or total avoidance of her responsibilities only to leave them with her poor assistant, Shizune. "Of course."
"And recently, I've taken on an…" she trails off for a moment, finding her words. "Intern of sorts," she decides.
His throat goes dry. "An intern?"
"Yes, I'm sure you've seen her," she says with a wave of her hand. "Short, pink hair; you can't miss her. I believe I've sent her your way with files before, as well…"
His fingers rise to the collar of his shirt, suddenly stifling against his neck. "I've seen her."
"Nice girl, really," she explains. "Very smart, reminds me of myself."
He nearly rolls his eyes. If Sakura is like anybody, it's certainly not his crazy, menacing, overtly sexual boss. "I'm sure."
"I've done what I can with her, but it seems she's fallen into a routine of sorts," she continues. "She does just about the same thing every time she's here; she doesn't complain, but I can tell she's getting a little bored."
He clucks his tongue. "That's too bad."
"I was gonna toss her with Naruto in oncology," she explains, "but it doesn't seem like Sakura is very interested in that."
"Is that so?" he asks.
There's a glint in her eye, like she notices his dodging of her comments, but if she does realize it, she doesn't say anything about it. "I believe she's very interested in neurology, Uchiha, and you seem to be the best neurologist I've got."
He almost chokes; it takes every cell in his body to keep him calm over what she's about to do to him. Quickly, he says, "I head psychology, Tsunade."
"Just as interesting to her, I'm sure," she says. "I'd like you to teach her a little, Uchiha. As great a doctor I am, this is your field of expertise more than it's mine."
"What about Kurenai?" he asks, a frown surfacing on his face as he feigns annoyance more than his suffocating unrest. "Can't she do it?"
"She's having the baby soon, as you know," she explains with a frown. "And you're the head of the department, anyway; Sakura should learn from the best."
"She'll just be a nuisance," he lies with a shake of his head. "Sorry, Tsunade-sama, but—"
"It seems I've made a mistake," she says, and the glare fixed on her face is fierce. "I seem to have posed this as a question, so let me rephrase: you will teach the intern, or there will be consequences."
His heart stops.
"And you do not want consequences, Uchiha," she finishes, and her frown turns into a little smirk. "Have I made myself clear?"
He swallows sharply. "Fine."
"Fine," she agrees, and stands. She brushes off her pencil skirt, and shoots him another, infamous smirk that makes his blood boil. "You could learn a thing or two about working with others, kid."
He frowns. "Whatever you say."
Before leaving, she adds, "She's a smart girl, I'm sure you'll find her fascinating, if anything."
She really has no idea.
When he finally loses the sound of her heels clicking against the linoleum, he sighs loudly, exasperated. It's been hard enough having to simply exist knowing she's in the same hospital as him, but to have to teach her on top of that?
Impossible.
The more he thinks about it, the tighter his fingers curl, the dryer his throat becomes. He has to teach Sakura, be in the same room as her, instruct her, assign her work, talk to her, and he has to do it all while acting like he isn't terminally lovesick, like he doesn't have irrevocable feelings for this little girl that means more than she'll ever be allowed to know. The thought makes him sick.
Now that he thinks about it, maybe Oto is looking good, looking better by the second. Maybe he is better off leaving, maybe his feelings for her shouldn't ground him, but push him away as far as possible—
"Excuse me?" a tiny, sweet voice interrupts him, accompanied by a knock, the last voice he wants to hear right now. "Uchiha-sama?"
She looks so beautiful; her hair tied up in a little, spiky ponytail, her scrubs the same pale pink as her lips. She smiles kindly, but the blush on her cheeks tells her embarrassment.
He coughs, clearing his throat. "Can I help you, Sakura?"
She nods her head, bangs flying in her face. "I know you spoke to Tsunade-shishou," she says softly, stepping into his office. "I understand that I will be taking away from your time, and I wanted to thank you."
His eyes widen slightly. If he speaks, he'll stammer—he knows it—so he doesn't say anything.
She continues, stepping even closer to him. "I will work hard, I promise."
He nods his head, and swallows.
"I won't be a burden," she explains, and the fire in her eyes makes his heart beat fast. "I promise, Uchiha-sama."
There is a pause for a moment, and he simply looks at her. He looks at her petal pink hair, curling from perspiration, and her sparkling eyes, determined and hard. She's breathing a little quickly, and her fingers are twitching, but if he's ever seen honesty in his life, it'd be in her. From the stutter of her lips, to the flush of her face, he believes her.
He nods again. "That will be all, Sakura."
She looks taken aback for a moment, but he looks away before he can see any hurt. "Of course, Uchiha-sama. I'll see you tomorrow."
He doesn't bother looking up, lets her leave. When she turns around, his eyes finally trail after her. She walks like a ballerina, and swings her hips like a woman, and he can't do this.
He can't do this.
He tries to swallow again, but there's nothing in his mouth to get down.
Hey guys! Finally updating wooh! Hmmmmm it seems this story is starting to come into place...
Thanks so much for all the support thus far, you can't imagine how thankful I am. I'm so glad this story still has so much support, and so many followers. I love each and every one of you! Thank you!
I just want everybody to know, because I get this question a LOT: this story will be written, totally, from Sasuke's POV. You will see what Sasuke sees of Sakura, but as the story develops, you will get more information about her through him. A big portion of this story is Sasuke looking at Sakura, and looking at others, an important trait of his! But dw you will learn more about her!
Please review :) They make me happy! I've posted my prompt tumblr on my profile which is accepting requests right now, and go follow my other tumblr! I follow back! :)
Peace.