Disclaimer: English: Naruto isn't mine. Leet: N4ru70 15n'7 m1n3.
COLD FLOWER
Chapter 2: Confessions
By Mokora
Blurry.
Her senses began to react slowly, her memories flooding back, the room nausieatingly still.
She was awake.
Her eyelashes fluttered a bit as dazzling emerald irises looked about like a curious child's would. She was in her room. She recognized the baby-pink floral-patterned curtains, the creamy walls, the slick white-wood flooring. The bed she woke in was springy also, she tested, remembering how startled she'd been the first night in this room. She'd mistaken the bed for more of a squishy material and discovered the coiling springs reluctantly when she'd leaped upon it, promptly flung off with considerable force. Her wall collision was rewarded a significant welt atop her head that she'd prodded gingerly and winced. She sighed, still gazing about curiously, thankful no one had witnessed her 'feat' of humiliation that night. She was amused by the memory, though, baring a well-rounded sense of humor, and she decided that yes, this was definitely her room.
But how did she get there?
She strained slightly to remember where her memories of the night before had ended. Then she froze; overwhelmed by that sickening feeling one would get when remembering something that made your day significantly worse, another worry to throw in the box.
He was back.
Was it all a dream? No, it was too real. She remembered the chill of the night air, the sting of his sharp voice, the soft and seductive undertone his words still bared, flowing like molten sugar, just as before. She was completely torn, seeing as a large part of her wanted to dance about the silent room, joyous that her prince had returned and was undoubtedly sexier than ever. But another significant piece of her wanted to forget him completely, and, though it hurt, it was true. Why? Because it would always hurt.
Seeing as she'd matured quite a lot since she was just a girl of twelve, she'd since then made a realization. Sasuke brought pain. There was no way she could love him and be ridden of heartache and confusion. Because he needed no one. Even now that he'd returned, he needed nothing besides his dear self, which could suffice. Maybe. If he played his cards right, maybe his life would end with no one.
But what a sad fate, she'd sympathized. It didn't have to be that way.
Time.
Time would tell all. She was generally rather optomisitic, and even though every sliver of hope she'd put forward he'd promtly shot down in flames, it recovered and burned still. She'd grown to where she sort of enjoyed his insults and rejection, in a warped sort of way. After all, it was the only way he acknowledged her being at all, really. And even though it was foolish, she treasured his sneer upon her every time. She wished he'd scold her more, just so his melodic words would be directed at her, and only her. It was the only way she'd been successful at tricking herself; tricked into feeling special. Pathetic, she knew.
Light seeped into the room from the startling sun's late-morning rays. Her curtains filtered a childish glow onto the sleek floor, gold and peach dancing across the opposite wall, bare of everything but a photo of her and all of her friends she'd hung just the other day. She decided it was time to get up, thus she rose, with some difficulty, stretching for a moment as the need to yawn became too much. She sucked in the warm aromatic air and slung her legs over the side of the bed, still in one of her daily uniforms, which conveniently all looked the same. She touched her toes to the cold floor gingerly, stood, and swung her arms a bit.
She fumbled to the dresser, pulling out a little black hairbrush and running it through her long bubblegum tresses, tying the Konoha ninja band about her head, neatly behind protruding bangs and petite little ears. She offered a tiny smile in the mirror and sighed. She'd never really thought of herself as pretty. She was thoroughly average when compared to Ino, who was utterly gorgeous. She envied her, and she'd always felt shadowed by Ino's unfathomable beauty. Such a lucky girl she was.
She made her way to the door and crossed the hall, rubbing at her right eye lazily. She rounded the corner, seeing Lee at the bottom of the stairs. "Ne, Lee." She called mildly, giving a little smile.
He looked up and looked her over a moment, determining whether or not she was alright. Seeing her smile, though small, he decided she seemed fine. In the furthest part of his mind he also wondered who else could look so beautiful after just waking up.
"Sakura!" He chimed, grinning. "You're finally awake! It's already eleven!"
"Really? That late?"
"Yeah. I guess you were really exhausted."
She made her way down the stairs and approached Lee, still rubbing at her sleepy eyes.
"We wondered where you'd gone after half an hour passed, during the game yesterday. We told the others we'd hafta continue later, because you'd vanished. We looked everywhere for you, until Ino discovered you asleep against a tree at the far edge of the woods." He informed, with a worried expression.
'So that's what happened,' She voiced internally. 'I fell asleep after he walked away.'
He.
A question struck her suddenly, and, without thinking, she asked.
"Where is he?" Her voice was suddenly much more sober.
Lee looked puzzled for but an instant and then pointed around a corner nearby. "His room, number 112. Ino went to see him earlier and offered to take him for breakfast, but he wouldn't. Said he didn't need it. She looked pretty discouraged." Lee noted, trailing off a bit and continuing to ramble onward within his own thoughts.
Sakura nodded a bit and passed him without a second thought, rounding the corner directed by Lee. He watched as she receded, and then disappeared behind the seperating wall, sighing. She loved him so much.
She approached his door, hesitant. She shot a quick glance to the bottom of it, seeing no light peeking from beneath. This amused her slightly. Typical that he'd sit in a room, reclusive and brooding, in of course, complete darkness.
She reached forward to knock, but hesitated again, her hand retreating to the comfort of the other one, which pulled at its fingers. A feeling of genuine unease rested upon her heavy, troubled heart. She turned her back to the dreaded door, feeling all courage sucked from her in one swift breeze. She couldn't do it. She couldn't face him again, after her harsh words the night before. After what he'd become.
She felt that same lump form within the depths of her throat and she cursed it. Always crying. Why did she cry so much? Was she really so childish as to cry whenever she didn't know what to do?
"Come in."
She jumped, almost tripping and crashing to the hardwood floor below. Her thoughts were promptly torn to shreds, the interruption significantly more important. His voice sent spiraling chills down her spine, and she turned to the door again, shaken. She swallowed nervously, reaching for the doorknob, turning it slowly. The door creaked a bit as she pushed it open. Darkness immediately clashed with the light that ricochetted from the hall and she entered his room meekly. Once in, she closed the door, without haste, and took a tiny step forward.
Silence.
She saw him there, assuming his usual thinking position: his chin rested upon folded hands, elbows placed atop knees. He was amazing, she noted, seeing his face illuminated only by the light that managed to escape the dark cascading curtains before his one tiny window. It brought out his beautifully masculine features. His long, noble nose, his set cheek bones, his pale, sleek skin, his deep, endless black eyes with pupils that bled into twin irises, merging to form two complete obsidian stones for each side of his angelic face. His hair was thick and glossy, and she'd always dreamed about tangling her fingers through the inky mass. He was truly a sight, and it made her weak, seeing such an unreachable creature before her. It was like dangling a slab of meat in front of a starving dog. It was cruel and unfair.
She shifted, nausieated by the nervous atmosphere. She felt his eyes upon her and her flesh burned beneath his withering gaze. He was watching her. She was suddenly rather self-conscious.
"Do you need something?" He asked sharply, yet roughly, not intending to sound rude or dismissive. After all, he hadn't seen his comrade in quite a long time. His voice was thick and raspy, and Sakura had always found it attractive. She'd once wondered if he might have a considerably good singing voice.
"N-No, not really." She squeaked, taking a little step back. "I'll leave." She forced an awkward and lying smile, reaching behind to feel for the doorknob. She hated when he always assumed she needed something. She never needed anything from him but his prescence. What would he say to that?
But she just watched him for a moment with crestfallen eyes and turned to the door.
He noticed this, and assumed she felt unwelcome. But he needed her thoughts. He needed her to talk to him sincerely.
There was a pause as Sakura turned the knob, reluctantly willing to leave her prince in peace. Peace without her.
But he wouldn't have that. Not yet.
"I had second thoughts." He hissed, obviously ashamed. She stopped, and turned her head sharply. She looked at at his ominous silhouette, bewildered. His words pizzled her. What second thoughts? She retreated from the door and stepped toward him, hugging her arms to her middle. She didn't understand.
"I had second thoughts about killing him." He began again, averting his gaze to the ground. "It was almost as if, after all these years, I didn't have it in me. As if I couldn't slay the one man who took my life from me, a long time ago. My real life."
Oh. So that was it.
He'd had second thoughts? Sakura's expression became troubled, still confused, but more understanding nonetheless.
"I can't boast." He explained, hanging his head a bit. "I have no room to boast. I ended up taking his life by accident." He confessed, a wistful smoke stirring about in his eyes.
She looked at him wide-eyed, genuinely troubled. Her beloved was obviously having a hard time handling the weight of guilt, and, because he was unhappy, so was she. She wished she could help somehow, but she couldn't help but wonder why he was telling her all this. He'd never attempted to speak to her like this before.
"I felt pleasure though, seeing him dying upon the ground. Though it was an accident, it was still revenge, and it felt liberating. But he didn't say a word. And after he died, I..." He faltered, giving her testy glance, which she managed to catch through the blackness and softened her gaze. It was a comfort thing, urging him onwards.
'You can tell me.' She thought affectionately, still twisting her hands about nervously. 'I'll understand.'
He heaved a deep sigh. This was difficult, admitting his problems. But, who else could he seek? Kakashi? Way out of the question. Naruto? His mind rewarded him with a definite 'Hell no.' to that. But Sakura...
"I felt guilty. I still do."
She hesitated, choosing her words carefully before speaking. This was the first time he'd ever talked to her so seriously, and she definitely wasn't going to ruin it.
"That's normal." She said quietly, her sad eyes following her fidgetty fingers at play.
"But why? Why would I feel guilt after I'd worked for so long? It makes no sense." He hissed acidically. He avoided her eyes more now, turning his head away from her ever so slightly.
"You said I was weak."
"I... I didn't mean that. I was upset."
"Did you?"
"N-No--"
"You're right. I am. Killing my brother has made me weaker." He stated flatly, with obvious reluctance.
This was definitely not like Sasuke. She struggled with a loss of words and took a deep breath. He was a complicated person, but she swore that she could love every little complex detail he harbored. She sweared she could love everything about him, every flaw.
"No, you're not." She snapped, mildly startling him, though it went unnoticable. "You're so much stronger than anyone here! Naruto and I can't compare, and you work harder, with more determination. You always end up saving us when we're in trouble. Do you know why?" Her voice was soft and encouraging.
There was a pause of complete silence, and she gave a sheepish little shrug.
"Just because you can. Because you're strong."
Her defending comment stirred him. It was just like her to try her hardest to make him feel as though he were the greatest man alive. He thrived on praise, that was true, but she... He had a hard time believing her compliments, especially after he'd witnessed what a murderous demon he'd become. He'd become a tool. He hated himself and how easily he'd been fooled, and sometimes, he just wished it would end. He wished at times that his life would just escape him, so that someone else would be given a chance in his shoes, and maybe they'd do better. Maybe they'd find happiness.
He felt her eyes upon him. He didn't move.
"I must improve."
"I'll help in any way I can." She offered, feeling her cheeks flush.
She felt a warm sensation within her heart and she felt the longing to hold him, while he sat there, across the room. He willingly isolated himself, sure, but she wondered if he honestly needed the comfort of others. She doubted before, but he'd confided in her this time. She picture her arms about him tightly, laying across the bed, unmoving for hours. Her heart glowed.
Suddenly, Tenten's voice rang out, muffled by the door. "Sakura! Come 'ere!"
Sakura was ripped from her dreams and thrown back into bitter reality rather violently, flustered. "Uh, I gotta go. I'll see you... later?" She asked openly, turning towards the door, her eyes still upon him.
He just huffed.
She smiled. "Alright."
And with that, she slipped away, out into the light. He sighed, closing his eyes, as her words repeated themselves within his thoughts.
'...You work harder, with more determination. You always end up saving us when we're in trouble. Do you know why?'
All of his other thoughts abruptly faltered as her words rang like bells.
'Because you can. Because you're strong.'
He gave another sigh, thankful that he'd shared his troubles with another, who had in turn comforted him. Just as she always would. But before, she'd said she couldn't stand him. Understandable. He'd never truly acknowledged her feelings before. But she'd always given him more than acknowledgement. He gave wry and empty laugh, hoarse. He never treated her fairly. But had he ever anyone?
He pictured her smiling at him in the darkness, where she'd been standing. His guilt was significantly less now, after a sincere talk with his teammate. A smile flickered across his lips.
'Thank you, Sakura.'
And then it disappeared.
Ah, a more sentimental chapter. Sasuke confides in Sakura for the first time, and discovers she's a good listener. xD
Also, to make up for my total lack of depth with Itachi's death in the last chapter, I revealed a bit more here. Hm, seems Sasu-baby's warming up to Saku-baby a little, ne? x3 Oh yes. He is, he is.
Review responses! o.o
Sahara Storm - Thank you, dearest. I hope you do stay tuned, because it gets much better. xD
EDIT: I revised this chapter. It's EXTREMELY revamped, so you might want to reread. xD;;
