Akira moved around like she was part of a choreographed dance. Her swings, lunges and kicks flowed with ease and, once in a while, the glint of a blade could be seen in the early morning light. Training and practising her martial art techniques in her family's old dojo was a tradition Akira never got to partake in before her parents died. Now that they'd passed, Akira went past the derelict torii to the old Uchiha compound every morning to show her dedication to her family. She told no one of this, although she suspected Sasuke knew what she was doing. She'd taken weeks to clean up the dojo, fix up the walls and the doors, and put in new tatami. It was already getting worn, forced to suffer through Akira's gruelling training. By the time her training was done each morning, the sun was well up in the sky, and the breakfast that Sasuke had made for them earlier sat cold on the counter.
Akira put the teapot back on the stove as she came back to hers and Sasuke's apartment, and she used a kitchen towel she wanted to throw in the wash anyway to wipe off the sweat from her face. She threw it over her shoulder and poured herself a cup of over-steeped tea, then took a sip before wincing and pouring it all down the drain. Akira pulled a face at the food Sasuke had made and put the leftovers in the fridge, refusing to eat the shellfish he knew she hated. Akira headed towards the bathroom for a long hot shower, and when she emerged, clean and clothed, Akira made herself another small pot of tea. She noticed the wilting flowers on the dining table as she slowly sipped on her tea, and wondered if Sasuke had changed the water like he was supposed to. With a frown, Akira quickly downed the rest of her burning hot tea and pulled the flowers out of the vase, hissing as she tried to cool down her tongue.
On her way out, Akira tossed the flowers in the bin and then left the quiet confines of the apartment. The morning was gone by the time Akira reached the main street, and several people were lining up at restaurants and food stalls for a snack or an early lunch. She waved hello to a small boy who smiled at her but frowned when the woman gave her the stink eye. With a sigh, Akira walked off in her intended direction, her mood a little soured.
The Yamanaka flower shop was a quaint little store run by Ino's family, and it was the only place that Akira could, or would, get her flowers. Ino was always a bit of a pest when she was working at the register, but her mother was the sweetest woman imaginable and always gave her good discounts for being such a loyal customer. Akira perused the displays of flowers, taking her time to look at all the beautiful blooms.
"Good afternoon, miss Yamanaka!"
Akira turned her head to see Sakura walking into the shop. She spotted the Uchiha nearly immediately and came over, a big smile on her face.
"Hey, Akira! What brings you here?"
"Well, if I'm in a flower shop—"
"Oh, you know what I mean! What's the occasion?"
"No occasion," Akira said. "I have a vase on my dining table that needs fresh flowers. I get some every week."
"Have you decided what to get?"
Akira sighed. It was strange that she was so undecided today. Usually, she would just glance over at the blooms and something would immediately catch her eye. But when Akira's eyes scanned the flowers, all they seemed to find were the austere purple hyacinths.
"The hyacinths, I think."
"Oh, those are really nice!" Sakura said with a smile. "Did you know that they symbolise—"
"Regret," Akira interrupted. Her voice was soft. "Yeah. Fitting, no?"
Sakura looked over to Akira and smiled sadly. Akira returned the smile and took a few stalks of hyacinths from the display. Sakura went over to pick out her own flowers, and they exited the shop together after paying.
"Do you want to have lunch?" Sakura blurted out. A few passerby's stared at her strangely. "With me, I mean."
"Uh, sure," Akira said, a little confused.
"All right! Go put those flowers in that vase of yours and we'll meet at the sushi shop!"
Sakura marched off looking rather determined, which made Akira laugh a little under her breath, and they met back up as planned about twenty minutes later. The girls took the booth by the window looking out on the street and ordered drinks while they decided what kinds of sushi they wanted. Sakura made small talk quite awkwardly, asking about Akira's friend "Kita" and his dog "Haru".
"Kiba and Akamaru."
"Oh, dammit, that's right," Sakura said dejectedly. "What's wrong with me?"
"You're trying too hard," Akira said with a small smile. "Calm down. We're just two friends having lunch."
"Friends?"
"Well, sure."
"Then... Can I ask something? As a friend, I mean."
The waitress came over to bring the girls their drinks and take their orders.
"Yeah, shoot," Akira said as the waitress left.
"How are you?" Sakura asked with a sigh.
"I'm fine, why?"
"No, I mean, really."
Akira suddenly found her green tea very interesting to look at.
"The hyacinths, huh?" Akira said after a beat. "That easy?"
"Well... it wasn't just that," Sakura said honestly.
The waitress came over and brought them several plates of food. Both girls immediately tucked in.
"It was everything from that mission, really," Sakura said. "You—You killed someone, Akira."
"I'm all right, Sakura, really."
"No, you're not. Don't pretend that you are. You were soaked with blood, you were bruised and scraped—you spent hours scrubbing your hands raw instead of eating and you haven't stopped to rest since we all got back. You look tired, Akira. Exhausted."
"Thanks," Akira chuckled, poking at her sashimi.
"You know what I mean. I'm just—You're my friend. I'm worried."
Akira looked out the window. For a moment, she stared at the way people walked, roughly in one direction, weaving a little, chatting as they went. She watched them, some with their heads down and lost in thought, wondering what their private worlds were like and if they knew this feeling she was feeling.
"I'm not fine, that's true," Akira said after a while. "But I'm not not fine, you know?"
"I don't follow."
"I don't think that this is something I'll ever get over. It's one of those big firsts, you know? Usually, it's—what am I saying?—like a first kiss or your first boyfriend or the first time you ride a bike—"
"Are you seriously comparing killing a person to riding a bike, right now?"
"Yes, look, the point is—I'm never going to forget it. It's always going to be there. And sure, I suppose, that might mean that I'll never really be okay—"
"That's not reassuring me!"
"Fine, over time, the feeling of wanting to vomit all my insides will leave. And one day I won't see blood on my hands every time I wash them. And one day I'll stop having nightmares. Trust me. I've been there before. I know how to get through this, Sakura, it'll just take time."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, I'm sure," Akira said. "And since you're my friend, if there's ever something wrong..."
"I've got your back."
Akira smiled and stuffed an entire salmon nigiri into her mouth. For a moment, Sakura was pleased. There was a little shine in her eyes that was reassuring, but the memory of the blood soaking Akira's clothes and skin was still far too fresh in her mind for it to be completely at ease. But the lunch went without any other displays of sadness and regret and grief, and both girls left the restaurant far too full and complaining about the weight they were going to gain. Sakura, still feeling a little worried for Akira, suggested a girl's night in, with board games and a sleepover, and while Akira wasn't really the type to do either of those things, she knew what Sakura was up to and agreed without hesitation.