A/N: Things are starting to move faster now that I'm finally starting to reveal things. I am also soooo glad most people are happy with the pace of this story.
Also, sorry I've been taking long to write the chapters, but I'm almost (finally) going into med school and I barely have time to write with all the community hours and research I'm trying to do, plus the mcat I'm preparing for. To make up for it, I'm including some ever-awaited steamy and hot scenes in the next chapter that I know you guys will certainly enjoy. ;)
Please, take breaks if you need to while reading this, because it's a lot and it has plenty of heavy content. I tried not to make Sasuke too ooc but obviously he has to speak his mind once in a while, and I think it was about time something like this happened. A breaking point for them both, if you will.
Thank you everyone for the reviews! I wasn't even expecting to write a sasusaku interaction as big and dramatic as in the last chapter since I was saving that for this one, but it just kind of happened. Hopefully it wasn't too dramatic or too out of character for them both. I like to think that Sakura is very oppressed by Sasuke's strict rules, and now that they are even stricter she can't help but feel even more frustrated. I hope you guys got that part. The girl can barely do anything, you know. Pero don't worry, the dynamics and perspectives are slowly shifting, as you will come to see. This chapter is about tying some loose ends that are very much needed, just so you don't think I forgot about the ever-present weight on our boy Sasuke as the tension about a war increases :))
Enjoy!
Sasuke decides it has been enough weeks of research and patrolling one rather chilly afternoon. He sits on a cushion at one of his offices, drinking freshly-brewed tea from the bamboo set neatly splayed out for him on the small table.
Shikamaru sits across from him, though he does not take a sip of his imperial tea. Instead, he has a few papers on his side of the table and a few more in his hands, looking through them as if decoding the biggest mystery in the history of their nation—but most probably just the task he has been assigned to, by no other than Sasuke himself, for the better part of the new year.
Sasuke realises it has been too long. Not too long for other beaurocratic matters, where he would definitely have some leniency and grant as much time as needed, but too long for this specific topic.
Fire—his nation, his recently united country, his responsibility, the only driving force behind his every decision—can't fall into the wrong hands again. With Danzō, it had done just that, and the aftermath of his fires had taken countless of years to heal. In some ways, Sasuke is still fighting to restore and repair the deep, irreversible damage up to this day. However much damage he had done, and however burnt his country had been in all those years of blood and carnage, Fire has been a peaceful nation for years now. All the hard work he has put into its fruition shouldn't go down the hill in light of another civil war.
Another war would only bring the nation down and, most importantly, the Uchiha Shogunate with it. For the respect he will forever have left of his family, of their long-lasting and candid ruling, and of his own self-respect for what he does for a living, he can't allow himself to let that happen. Under no circumstances must a small attack in any of his villages ensue, much less a nation-wide downright war.
Which is why, as he takes another sip of his herbal tea and looks at everything his advisor is reading and sketching with precise certainty, Sasuke decides it's about time there are some results from his plans.
"Shikamaru," he announces, watching as said man freezes for a second and raises his gaze to meet his superior's.
"My lord," he answers, waiting for a command that comes not a second later, but itching to look down at his documents again all the same.
"Gather Rock Lee and Aburame Shino. Tell them to come here," he says, his firm and impending voice cutting through the silence in the room like his blade cuts through grass. "I need the three of you for an official status report."
"Right away," he answers him like the dutiful and loyal advisor that he is, and yet Sasuke can still tell his listless comrade finds no pleasure in getting up from his comfortable position, as characteristic of him.
He watches as Shikamaru leaves and nods to himself, knowing it's only the wiser choice to check up on his men and get updates—updates he had not asked for before in order to let them have plenty of time for completion. He had assigned them missions a little over a month ago, and although that wouldn't be enough time on more formal and customary matters of the kingdom, they have no more time to waste.
And as he waits, he gets up slowly and walks to the back of the room, sliding the double doors open and stepping onto the narrow balcony that surrounds most of the second floor of the castle. The white railing and the white columns provide support for the brown, signature ceiling of most homes in Konoha. Though there are some Western, imported components to the architecture of his castle (and most of Konoha's homes) from when his brother still allowed trading to happen, most of it retains the usual, Japanese markings and general design, something for which Sasuke is glad. If anything, it provides a sense of security he had only felt when younger, for he'd made sure most of the details of this new home resembled the ones from his past one, burnt to the ground so many years ago.
Sasuke looks up at the sky, devoid of clouds and winds, and over the horizon as the sun gets ready to dip under in less than an hour. The city below the hill his castle sits on is quiet, and so is his entire nation beyond the borders—just how it should be.
Today, as with any other day after the war ended, is just another ordinary day in the grand scheme of things, and Sasuke can only do so much as breathe in the serenity of it all and hope it can stay this way for many more years to come. With a small, imperceptible smile, he breathes out against the cool early spring air, closing his eyes for a second too long—it's not often that he gets to find the calm and quiet in a job like his, and the spell breaks two seconds later just as he had only feared.
He stands on the wooden, finely handcrafted balcony and rests his hands on the smooth railing when he notices it.
More than notices it, he hears it. Amidst the sound of birds and general commotion inside the village surrounding his castle, he hears her.
His wife, ethereal and in all of her delicate complexity, with a small pink attire and her long hair around her like a curtain, laughs. Sitting on her favourite bench near her gardens, she has the biggest grin plastered on her face a few feet below him, and as he looks down from his height, the sight only makes his breath hitch on the back of his throat.
Surprise turns into confusion as he looks at the person who's making her laugh like he has never heard before, only to find none other than his best friend seated next to her. The Emperor moves his hands in an exaggerated manner, exclaiming here and there things that Sasuke hears, but can't distinctively make out from such a distance.
Another laugh from his wife only makes his confusion increase. As far as he knew, Naruto seldom made an appearance in Konoha, much less his castle, mainly for security reasons. As far as he knew, he hadn't made an appointment or told the blond to visit today, out of all days, in any way or form.
It doesn't help that, although he can't exactly hear what they're talking about, Sakura is facing Naruto on the bench and the angle gives Sasuke enough clarity so as to be able to make out most of her expressions. He can see her face from here; can notice the way she smiles at the blond and giggles, laughs, from time to time at something ridiculous he probably says. He notices the way he makes her smile and knows that he hasn't made her laugh this way in the entirety of their long marriage.
Sasuke's not a jealous person by nature, and much less when Naruto is concerned, but it's the way in which she shares such happiness with him, such glee and content, so freely expressed as she has never shown him before, that makes him take a step back and move into the quiet of his office as if someone has physically pushed him back inside. It makes him tighten his jaw until he can't feel his teeth and slide the doors shut as soon as he walks inside, hoping to forget the way her soft giggles and even softer complexion had made his heart stop beating in the otherwise busy mansion.
Sasuke's not jealous, but he's also not stupid, and he knows exactly what this is. He sits back on the floor and waits for his three advisors to come through the door before he has the chance to think more about the inexplicable feeling tugging at the corners of his chest.
It only intensifies anyway when he lets his mind drift back to what little he could make out of her happiness from the small of his balcony, two stories up from over their heads. What else is he supposed to think, when he has nothing else to do but wait for Shikamaru to come back?
Some would say what he feels isn't jealousy, per se, but a deeper, lonelier sentiment etched in stone; clear as day, knowingly present for the first time in their four-year-long marriage: pure, raw and uninhibited envy.
For what he's never had, someone else did.
Sasuke curses under his breath when another second passes by slowly and stands up from the floor with yet another curse, this time louder in the empty space around him. Has it really been one second? He feels as though it's been more than enough for him to get up and walk toward the door of his office. It serves as a good enough excuse to slide the door open and damn Shikamaru and the other men, walk down the set of stairs with a scowl that never leaves his face, and follow the sound of his best friend and annoyingly happy wife.
He steps outside and takes a moment as he sees them on the bench a few steps in front of him; he takes a breath, squares his shoulders, and hides his hands under his regal sleeves, the material making it seem as if he's calm and collected—totally unaffected by any of this.
Sasuke takes a few slow strides over to them, finally catching on to their conversation as he gets closer and closer.
"Listen to this: he never ever can win in our spars. Every time we finish training, you should see the look on his face!" He hears Naruto exclaim. "You know, the one where he's all frowning and almost growling like a sore loser!"
Sasuke feels a twitch in his left eye when he hears that, and he can only infer this so called 'sore loser' is himself as he wouldn't be telling Sakura about anyone else so ridiculously. His right eye twitches next when he hears Sakura giggle at his confession, and Sasuke then stops walking to a halt merely two steps behind them as he glares holes into their backs.
Naruto notices him first amidst a fit of laughter, and he points a finger at him immediately.
"Look, Sakura-chan! Just like that! He looks just like how I'm telling you!"
And then, as if electrocuted, Sakura looks back and notices him and physically jumps. He hears her shriek before he sees her stand from the bench and hang her head low, hands on her lap as if embarassed by laughing at his expense; making fun of him so openly.
"Yo, bastard! I was just telling Sakura-chan how-" and then he looks at Sakura's display of shame, frowns, takes a moment looking between them both, and makes a crude gesture at Sasuke. "Hey! No need to make Sakura-chan stand and bow to you, you creep! Tell her to stand down right this second!
Sasuke moves his gaze from Sakura's small form to Naruto's agitated state, and sighs.
"The only sore loser here is you, dead last," he says, surrounding the bench so he can face them.
"Huh? What now? I'll show you who's a dead last!"
Sasuke pays him no mind. As he reaches the front of the bench and comes to stand next to Sakura, she takes a step back and bows further, and he can only frown more.
"I apologize if you heard any of that, my lord!" She almost yells, holding the material of her fine dress on her lap forcefully, as if scared of him. "I should not have laughed so carelessly behind your back."
Sasuke's, if anything, confused at her strange behaviour. She has never acted so formal, or taken the role of strictly dutiful wife, someone who is respectful and extremely professional toward himself. Naruto, on the sidelines, can only close his mouth and look between them both, surprised at this show of shamefullness when just a second before he had been sharing a good time with the woman.
"Sakura, that's enough," Sasuke announces, hand up in front of her as a show of dismissal; so she can stop behaving this way, doing whatever she thinks she's doing for him. He doesn't understand, and with this sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, he doesn't want it at all.
Sakura then straightens herself up a little too mechanically, keeps her gaze focused on the ground, and doesn't move an inch.
Sasuke's more confused than before. Who is this Sakura, and where is the one he has lived with for four years? Where is the fiery, strong personality she has carried with herself ever since he met her? Could it be because the Emperor is present? But she had been laughing with him, so that doesn't quite make any sense.
He wants to shake her, place his hands on her shoulders and demand answers, know why she's acting like she doesn't even know him and is only fulfilling the traditional role as a wife to a husband she has never spoken to. So quiet, so calm, so empty. So unlike her.
The last time he had spoken to her, she had been so cold and distant at the stables, much like she is right now. Could it be she hasn't let go of her resentment?
He takes two steps and reaches out to her with a hand, intent on placing it on her shoulder, and sees the way her downcast eyes widen slightly before he realises there are people walking toward him from the door to the gardens.
Shikamaru, Lee, and Shino all walk toward him and stop a few metres as a sign of respect, but clearly waiting for him to start the meeting which he had called to begin with. With a pause, Sasuke slowly retreats the hand back to the confines of long sleeves and looks down at the woman in front of him, hard eyes trying to decipher something which should be crystal clear, but isn't.
"My lord, I have gathered Aburame Shino and Rock Lee as requested for the meeting," Shikamaru says, looking at them all one by one with a face that clearly shows he does not care about what exactly is going on.
"A meeting? Can I come too?" Naruto asks as he already makes his way to the three men anyway.
Sasuke gives his wife one last look before he walks away and toward the castle once more, feeling her longing eyes on his back with every step he takes.
.
.
.
Shikamaru, Shino and Lee all sit in front of their leader, spines erect and faces set. Now that it has been enough time since he gave them their respective tasks, he thinks it the appropriate moment to check in on their progress, however much.
Shikamaru and Shino had split tasks a few weeks back, just to take off the load on the former's already heavy back.
Shikamaru's in charge of the spies that are trying to get any clues so as to incriminate the elders on the council, Shino's in charge of inside-relations and any hints that could give away every traitor in his main village of operations, and Lee scouts the outskirts of Konoha with more and more Samurai each and every day.
Sasuke sighs as he looks up from the table and observes them, resting his eyes on each one of them as he speaks. Naruto sits next to Sasuke, looking at the three men with a foolish smile.
"I have gathered you here for updates on your respective missions. As it has been more than a month, I trust there are developments."
Sasuke shifts his eyes to Shikamaru's calm presence and nods once, indicating he should start the report.
"As I lead the group of spies I have personally selected, I know what they see from my own experience," he starts, pausing in between his words as he tries to find the right ones. "We have observed, day and night, the council's routines without stop as they navigate their house and attend meetings."
Sasuke stares and doesn't give any input, signalling him to continue.
"We have found little to no incriminating evidence, my lord. Most of their day-to-day is ordinary and uneventful, I fear, with just a few meetings and a few parades around the town here and there," he finishes with a small bow, eyes downcast at the lack of progress in the past weeks.
Sasuke takes a deep breath and turns his attention to Shino, who bows and starts his status report without being verbally prompted, simply because there is no need with Sasuke and they know it.
"There is nothing to worry about inside the village, at least for the most part. It may be useless information, but we found Yakushi Kabuto doing something out of the norm a few days ago," he explains, and Sasuke's interest is immediately piqued.
"What is it?" He asks without wasting a beat, inching closer in his place on the floor.
"He appeared to go inside an old woman's home, and a few minutes later he came out and walked back to the castle as if nothing. The interesting part is we could hear the woman's cries of sorrow from inside the house, so it could be inferred that the healer was the one to ellicit such a response."
Sasuke blinks, hands under his sleeves on his lap, eyes on the floor while his brain turns the wheels slowly as he processes this new information.
He has never fully trusted his appointed healer, much less after he had to forcefully distance him from the presence of his wife, but this only proves that he most definitely can not be trusted.
"Did you go inside?" He inquires, watching as Shino's face morphs into one of surprise. "Did you try to talk to the woman?"
Shino shakes his head slowly, wondering what could possibly go over his superior's head if he thinks he had gone inside some villager's house, invaded her privacy, and then asked questions about Kabuto's business, which could only blow his cover in the long run.
"Go inside," Sasuke states, voice clear and rough, strong and edgy. "This is not a game. I need answers by any means necessary, even if unconventional. As with the risk that comes with these tasks, it's your job to cover up well so the nation doesn't end in chaos."
Naruto, next to him, holds a serious expression much unlike the faces he usually wears. He may have already realised the extent to which this meeting is being held; with utmost importance and nothing less than that.
"Is this clear?" Sasuke asks, watching as each men nods once. "Lee."
Lee nods once more with a little more effort and enthusiasm than necessary, and straightens up.
"Yes, my lord! I was instructed to lead some of my men into the forests surrounding Konoha's border, and we found no clues. Other than the occasional rogue bandit trying to cross or escape the village, all has been quiet."
And with a pause, he confesses something that Sasuke silently agrees on, but certainly wasn't expecting to hear.
"Too quiet, if I may add."
Sasuke nods once and furrows his brows, taking in all the information provided and trying to fomulate a plan; come up to a conclusion.
He reaches it faster than expected, as if the answer had been at the forefront of his mind all along. It probably had been.
"Lee, continue as you have, but take a small team up into the village that is overlooked by lord Orochimaru," he sighs, looking down at his small table. "I think it's time to pay him a visit since he's the one who started all these rumours in any case. And make sure he does not see you. I will need answers in three weeks, at most."
Lee agrees with him, and he shifts his eyes toward the remaining two men.
In the end, there is nothing he can do but give small commands that seem obvious at the moment—seeing Orochimaru and spying on his every-day activities after all that he has done only seems logical, and something he has been waiting to do for quite some time now. Any bigger decision must wait until he can think it through. Whatever he decides on, it must be executed to perfection—he can't be wasting any more time than necessary, and this can't drag on for much longer under his careful watch.
"You can continue as you have been doing so far. If I make any changes to your plans, I shall let you know in advance. You may all leave now," he announces, and watches as all the men leave the room together, sliding the door shut as they do so.
Naruto, who has been distinctively quiet during the unexpected ordeal, turns to him with a beat.
"So, now what?"
Sasuke finally drops his rigid stance and relaxes in the presence of his most trusted companion, moving a hand down his face in a show of exhaustion. Rubbing his eyes with his index finger and thumb, he sighs and looks at Naruto whilst shrugging his shoulders slowly in defeat.
He can't think now. He needs to process this barely eventful or significant update, turn it over in his head, and come up with the next plan of action. What Lee has said is most certainly a cause for concern; everything is too eerily quiet, almost as if it's planned to be that way, and Sasuke must make a drastic decision as soon as possible because of this.
Then an unrelated thought hits him and he pauses in his movements, dropping his hands on his lap as he focuses his eyesight on the blond.
"Now what? I should be the one asking the questions. Why are you here?" He genuinely asks, now remembering he isn't even supposed to be at his castle today.
Naruto gives him a nervous smile and scratches the back of his neck, as characteristic of him, before answering in a hushed, embarrassed tone.
"I missed your wife, that's all."
"Really," Sasuke deadpans, crossing his arms over his chest with a million questions dangling from his tongue.
"Well- I mean, I get so bored inside the palace and then you live so damn far! You haven't visited in so long I thought you were dead!" He exlaims, moving his hands in exaggerated gestures, for which Sasuke can only roll his eyes at.
"So you had to risk your life and your family's life because you wanted to see me? Naruto," he puts a hand on his shoulder and looks at him in the eye, feigning seriousness only for the moment he speaks next. "You know you're not my type, right?"
Sasuke expertly dodges the punch to his face, watching as the blond curses at him before turning red in embarrassment, muttering things that only bring a small smile to Sasuke's face.
They take a sip of the already-turned-cold tea before Naruto speaks again.
"You know, I had no idea Sakura-chan learnt the art of healing. She seems very knowledgeable about it, though I already forgot her explanations."
Sasuke only hums to that as he leaves his cup on the table, once again reminded of Kabuto's existence.
"My healer is getting old and sick himself, so I was planning to appoint a new one," the blond says, realising the present opportunity when he speaks next, voice excited and eyes shiny. "What if Sakura-chan is my healer? She can come by for routine checkups on my wife, and if we ever fall ill!"
Sasuke frowns and turns to look at him, snapped out of his thoughts about a crying old lady and his healer causing her to cry somewhere in town.
Something just doesn't click; it doesn't feel right, as if the blond is forgetting something. Sasuke answers to that with a question of his own a heartbeat later.
"What about Shizune?"
Shizune, the healer who has been checking on his wife's babies for decades now, and was present for the twins' birth so many years ago. Naruto shakes his head in any case.
"Shizune has found one of the best healers in the nation, and she has been training under her wing for the past few weeks in other parts of the country" he explains. "I don't think she's coming back, at least until she is done, which is why I'm asking this of you now. Please, please let me have Sakura-chan?"
It takes him a moment to process his words, but the answer had been in his head from the start regardless.
"No."
"What!" Naruto yells, clearly offended at the clear one-word answer from his friend. "But why not! She's probably so bored in this mansion with your monotone answers and indifferent persona! You don't even spend time with her!"
"Don't assume things so blatantly, Naruto. What happens in this house is none of your concern."
He receives a pout, but the topic is obviously not dropped so easily.
"Fine, but it would still do her good to go outside once in a while! I have plenty of guards around my castle, and it's in the middle of nowhere on top of it all. Nothing would ever happen to her!"
Sasuke stays silent, as if considering his proposition, before he shakes his head and sighs.
"The trip alone is enough. It takes me two days to get there by foot, and since she will be escorted in a carriage guided by the men of my choosing, it'll probably end up being three days," Sasuke explains as if he's talking to a child, scoffing the more he thinks about this ridiculous proposal. "With the way the nation is plotting against my ruling, is three days not enough time to ambush my wife in the middle of nowhere?"
Naruto glares at him and makes a face, clearly not happy about his friend's infuriatingly logical train of thought.
"Sasuke, don't be unreasonable now. The nation is as peaceful as usual, if not more. These are just unnecessary precautions you're taking. Sakura-chan will be guarded with many of your Samurai on the way there," he says, muttering the next words with certainty. "And this could be the perfect opportunity to trust her a little bit more."
At that, Sasuke looks at him with eyes narrowed and hands in fists under his sleeves. Trust? What does he know about their trust, and how could he possibly have known? Is it possible that even if they have only met, his wife has already been telling him about them? About their relationship and its hardships? About trust? About how he has only taken her out once, and it had almost cost him his ever-lasting ruling? About how he had to change the way his nation is handled, and had to murder his best Daimyō because of it? Sasuke doesn't think Naruto understands.
Sasuke trusts her. What he doesn't trust is his nation at the moment, and his friend should know better.
"The answer is still no," he repeats, his tone unwavering even as his friend stands and stretches, a sour look on his face.
"Well, bastard, just think about it," and as if someone had pressed a button, he suddenly walks toward the door and smiles at Sasuke. "It's almost completely dark, so I'm gonna go ahead and sleep here tonight. Thanks!"
Sasuke watches as he slides the door shut behind him, but his gaze gets lost on the wave print on his door. He sees past the waves and the paper-thin structure, and imagines a thin and lonely Sakura, sitting alone on a bench with no one to talk to, nothing to do, and nowhere to go.
.
.
.
It's nearing the end of March when she's called to her bedroom by one of the maids. She's small and fragile, and bends her body in respect as she speaks to her, though in a low voice and with wobbly knees.
Sakura has to look up from the book she has read twice already to pay attention to what she has to say, and in the middle of a rather ordinarily dull week, it's nothing short of surprising.
"My lady, I apologise for interrupting your reading," she says, bowing by the door as if afraid to overstep.
Sakura's too stunned to utter anything at first, so she only nods and smiles, which at least makes the poor girl less rigid in the uncomfortable position. She stands straight but averts her eyes from ever meeting her lady's.
"I come with urgent news. My lord requires your presence and would like for you to show yourself at your lordship's bedroom," she breathes, stumbling over the words here and there. "He has told me to summon my lady and so I came as soon as I could."
Sakura closes the book and watches as the girl jumps at the sudden gesture. Nevertheless, she stands and walks to one of the shelves in other to put it away—not that she would have missed anything anyway—whilst nodding to the maid in agreement.
"I will go right away, thank you," she announces, giving her a small smile that goes unnoticed as the girl refuses to meet her face, much less her smile. After deeming it an appropriate time to depart, the nameless girl bows again and leaves the way she came from, and Sakura takes a moment too long to accomodate the book on the shelf.
Her husband had been out of the village for over three nights, spent one night in the castle, then left for an entire week without so much as saying goodbye—other than a simple explanation he was due to leave again soon by the foot of their bed.
Seeing as Kabuto hasn't left in all the time her husband has been away, she hasn't been able to go check the entrance under the rug again, back at the cottage. And seeing as she's strictly forbidden from going over to his cottage in order to pass the time learning, her only form of entertainment has been re-reading books on the fifth floor and tending to her garden alone.
Usually, when her husband returns from diplomatic missions or battles, someone is always there to let her know of his arrival. Had he just arrived now? Nobody had let her know except the maid, and she had not even mentioned Sasuke's arrival, just the fact that he apparently wanted her to go to their room.
Sakura looks back at the only window in the room and watches as the sun is already dipping behind the horizon. She would normally head to the dining hall at this hour for dinner, though that seems improbable now.
She sighs and walks out of the library, going down the several flight of stairs slowly so as to prolong the first time she sees him—and speaks to him—in over a week; to drag it out as long as she possibly can without raising any flags, just so she can get her head straight and her face set for anything that may come. By now, she has accepted their conversations are an unpredictable script that somehow never end on a happy ending.
Eventually, though, she has to step off the stairs and walk along the hallway leading up to their room. Their big, gloriously decorated, usually-empty room stares back at her through the thick door as she comes to a stop in front of it. And just as she's about to take a hesitant step back, her hand somehow finds its way to the handle of the door, and she slides it open before she can object to her body's immediate, premature reaction.
But is it really premature, when her husband stands inside facing the window, giving her his back, hands in his pockets and hair wet from a bath? Is it really premature, when her mind agrees with the logic in her body's immediate reaction? Is it really premature when her husband turns at the sound of the door opening, when their eyes meet, and she feels like the air has been knocked out of her chest?
Yes, it is premature, just like the smile that threatens to surface on her lips, or the blood that somehow starts moving faster through her veins in anticipation; an involuntary reaction to meeting his fathomless, strong gaze after all the distance between them in these last few weeks.
She enters with a step and shuts the door behind her, taking a deep breath in that moment before she turns back around to face him on the other side of the room.
Sasuke, wet hair framing his already defined face, stands still with his hands inside his robe's pockets. She can only guess he has just taken a bath, and called for her as soon as he was done.
She has that premature, repressed urge to smile, walk up to him and weave her hands through his long, silky hair, pulling him close to her like she has only ever done in the midst of his nightmares. But that's all that they are: repressed urges. Because then, as she sees him turn back around and face the window with an uninterested air to him, she remembers why she has been putting distance between them to begin with. Why she has been angry at him, and repressing everything in the form of soft, practiced words; the role she has to stick to, right now, is the only thing that keeps her from leaving the room.
"I heard you wanted to see me, my lord," she says, watching as he gives an imperceptible nod toward her while still giving her his broad back. For a moment, she wants to feel the fire; feel the rage, the silence that controlled her for days and nights, and the angry feeling that had consumed her for the longest time. At the moment, all she feels is repressed anger and a tiredness to her bones that has no true explanation.
"I did," he responds, turning to face her again, and she wishes he hadn't.
The deep timbre in his voice only makes her skin fill with small goosebumps. And then she doesn't feel angry or sad, but she feels relief. She feels glad that he's home, feels like seeing his perfectly sculpted face and looking into his bottomless eyes has been what she's been waiting for since he left. She wants to give him the biggest, warmest smile and walk toward him, embrace him in her arms and welcome him home properly. She feels the urge to do that and so much more, so much more that it scares her.
She quells the desire to smile at him by frowning at the abruptness of it all, eyesight falling from his face to the floor below them.
"I trust you had save travels, my lord. Did you just arrive?"
Sasuke finally takes notice of her excessively distant tone and the scowl that she carries around her, and she sees the way his jaw locks and hears his hum of agreement at her question, as if tuned to his every reaction even if on the other side of the room.
Sakura's frown deepens.
"My dear, I would have come sooner if I knew," she admits, though what she feels and what she says are completely different things. "What is it that you wanted me for, if I may ask?"
There's a silence on the other side of the room and Sakura's tempted, for the longest time, to sneak a glance at her husband. If she had, she would have seen the strange look on his face and they way his eyes had been trying to decode the mystery surrounding her completely detached voice.
Instead, she waits and hears him clear his throat after a few more seconds. She hears him take a few steps toward her only to stop by their large bed. After sighing and running a hand through his hair, he sits on the edge and looks to one side, not nearly reaching her intrigued face. He faces the window, yet she still doesn't have it in her to look up.
It's a few seconds before he speaks again, and the room seems to turn colder in the middle of Spring, which only signifies this is more serious than she ought to have expected. Sasuke takes a breath and looks at his hands, back hunched forward and arms hanging from his legs.
"I know I have been absent from our home," he starts, and she feels the air catching at the base of her throat at this. Nothing, she thinks, would have prepared her for this confession from him.
"I know you... may have disliked my decision to keep my healer away from you at all times," he says, taking a deep breath and turning his head to look at her from his seated position. "I know."
When he sees no reaction from his wife, it only makes his patience wear thinner. After a long week and an even longer bath, he had hoped to have his mind clear. At least, clear enough to talk to her without this ridiculous treatment getting on his nerves and tempting his patience.
But as he looks at her, her back straight but head down in a show of submission, he feels that the blood boiling inside his veins shows just how foggy his mind is slowly getting.
"Will you not speak?" He asks, but only receives silence.
He's been out of the city for a few days, and, during the few times he has been inside the castle in the past few weeks since Naruto's visit, Sakura has made it her mission to avoid him at all costs. He can't really explain it, but having Sakura in this state only makes him want to talk to her so as to make her less... This. Whatever this is, he thinks, is like watching the ghost of someone he used to know. It brings a painful feeling to the bottom of his stomach, one that can only, for some reason, leave whenever she decides she doesn't hate him anymore.
But even now, as he admits he knows he has done wrong in the past, she remains the same. Even now, as he asks of her to speak to him, she stays silent.
"Come," he demands, because if demanding her is what's going to work, then he can use that to his advantage.
She does as told not a second later, as if programmed to follow his every command.
When she stands in front of Sasuke's seated form, he takes a moment to look up at her face. She avoids his eyes, but from this angle and from this distance, he can tell just how distraught she is over this. He can make out her clenched jaw, tight fists, and shaky knees perfectly.
He wants none of this unfamiliar, shaken girl in front of him. He wants none of the cold stares, the quiet submission, or the forced attempts to please him. He wants none of the shell she has become or the childish treatment she has chosen to give him. He wants none of it, so that's what he tells her.
"I want none of it," he says, and watches as their eyes meet for one split second at his unexpected words. "This anger you hold toward me? I want it no longer."
Sakura only frowns further, clearly wanting to say something but holding back.
And Sakura has never, ever, in the entirety of their marriage, raised her voice at him. She has never yelled in his face, laid a hand on him, or showed displease toward himself only because she has been curteous; she has been smart, respectful, and dismissive of his every wrongdoing. She has held him in high regard, and even when their opinions have crashed and burnt, she has never showed her disagreement so openly.
Right here, right now, he only wishes she would do all these things and more.
"Say it," he tells her, looking up at her face and seeing the way her face morphs into different emotions he can't really make out from the tight restraint she holds over herself.
"Tell me, Sakura," he warns, a little louder this time in order to ellicit some kind of response. Any would be fine, even if the one he does end up with is no progress in the long run.
"What would you like me to tell you, husband?" She asks, but the sweet tone to her voice is gone, and the question seems more forced now than genuine.
"I know that you are angry, but why?"
"Why?"
And then, it finally happens.
He sees the way her eyes lock with his own in defiance, in contempt for asking that kind of question. He sees the way she opens her mouth, and the way her expression goes through disbelief, anger, sadness, and then settles on anger once more.
"How can you ask that? I have been nothing but complacent and diligent to you in all these years. I have done nothing but to indulge you in your every desire, and treat you with respect."
Her voice is strong, but quiet. She's fighting back, but still holding back so much more.
"You may be treating me with too much respect."
"I have been treating you as I should have from the start of our marriage: as my husband. There is nothing wrong with that."
There's a pause in their conversation before she decides he has spoken enough, and looks away.
Sasuke bares his pearly white teeth at her for a second too long when she makes a move to walk away, quickly grabbing her wrist to keep her in place. "In the process, you have made me forget who you are," he offers, daring her to answer with his eyes.
Surprisingly, she answers almost immediately.
"Your wife."
If Sasuke's taken aback by her biting tone, he only shows it by pushing her over the limit even more; maybe to see how far she can actually go, or maybe because he's too deep to just let it go now.
"There is little resemblance," he says, and it's as if she has been slapped across the face.
There is little resemblance.
The words, though small and barely muttered under his breath, make her freeze in the spot.
He's saying the person he knew has nothing to do with this new side of her. He's saying he doesn't recognise her. He's saying she's not his wife anymore. He's saying he doesn't want her like this.
But this is how she has to behave now, because this is how he has indirectly asked her to be. A wife who supports him no matter the decisions he makes is a wife she has been taught to follow. A wife who agrees with his every say, even if it goes against everything she believes is right, is a wife she should follow. And she has to. As Uchiha Sakura, she just has to adapt and conform.
If he wants her to nod and smile without a voice—an opinion that matters in the grand scheme of things—then she has to bury everything she wants to feel. She has to forget how his words hurt her, how his eyes dig holes inside of her with every disapproving glance, and how his touch burns her sensitive skin every time he doesn't notice their hands brushing.
She has played her part and she has been learning along the way, but now he dares to disagree? Isn't this what he wanted? A pacified, trained companion? Someone he doesn't have to speak to, share anything with, or hold close?
The subdued fire in his eyes now only proves her wrong, and it's the thing that finally breaks her.
Sakura takes a step back and shakes her wrist out of his grasp. She uses the same hand to point a finger at him, a lack of conviction dancing in her gentle features. At some point in her stupefaction, she takes the necessary steps forward for her dainty finger to touch the top of his chest.
"You went behind my back, and forbid me from seeing Kabuto from one moment to the next as if nothing," she finally confesses, looking down at him as she speaks.
It would be a lie to say he's surprised by this declaration, but he can't help it if he still feels his blood run cold.
And for a second, time stops still as he processes her words inside his muddled, confused brain.
It only proves his dark suspicions to be true.
Sasuke scoffs, knowing this has been the root of her anger from the start. Sasuke scoffs and shakes his head, knowing that for weeks, her affection toward his healer is all that she has been angry about. This had been the only reason it had bothered him so much; so much so that he had to call her to the room; had to summon her, push her buttons, and hope for her to finally admit to the real reason of her strange behaviour toward him.
He stands from the bed, the abrupt motion pushing her finger away and making their chests bump.
"All along," he starts, staring at her perplexed face down the bridge of his nose. "All along, you truly have been lying for his sake."
Something dark flickers across his eyes, and she has a vague idea of what exactly is going on in his mind. But it's too late, it's too late as he moves closer, raises his tight fist by her face and clenches his jaw in a show of restraint. As if, as she watches the silent rage displayed on his face, he's trying his hardest to not touch her.
"You must know he will die by my hand first," he says, inching closer to her as he whispers his next words. "And you'll be next."
"Sasuke-"
"Is this why you are so angry? Because you can no longer be with him?"
"That's not-"
"Even though you reassured me, was I so foolish to trust you?"
"There is no trust, Sasuke!" She yells, hoping he will stop talking and instead listen to her.
There is a flicker of pain in his stare at her outburst, a sight that inadvertently makes something clench inside her chest. She can't stop the words that come out after that, hand clutching at her dress exactly where it hurts—her heart.
"You don't trust me, and that's why I'm angry! You went behind my back, did not think to consult me about the issue, and ordered me to stay away from the only other human being I can ever interact with. The moment I start seeing you care, you go and do this! You breach my trust and expect me to follow because it's your word, but if you had only stopped for a moment to ask, I would have understood your reasons and I would have agreed."
She stops talking, breathing hard against his chest, watching as his face slowly sets into stone—just like she has seen before. Suddenly, it gives nothing away.
And yet, when he doesn't give anything away, at all, she feels she has already said too much to stop any time soon. She hugs herself and lowers her gaze from his impenetrable stare, staring at the fabric covering his chest instead as she speaks again.
"I have spent four years trying to understand you, trying to get to know you, but all you give me is the cold shoulder. And I understand that you may not like me, or... even be attracted to me, but there has to be some kind of understanding in a marriage like this. There has to be some kind of trust. The one where, if I need you to know something, I will let you know right away."
She keeps telling him things, but he barely hears them. All that he sees is this woman trying to explain to him the meaning of trust, and all that he can think of is that, ironically, he had been threatening to kill her not a minute before. He had been ready to end her life over a misunderstanding without letting her explain herself, as if what he had been saying was the law and there was no other possible explanation out of it.
He stands in front of her, arms down and shoulders sagging slightly, with nothing but his thoughts as he frowns to keep himself busy.
And maybe she's right. Maybe they have always been hesitant around each other, not nearly trusting each other as any couple should, especially in the position of power they hold in the country. And maybe, because of said power, they should be more aware of each other. And maybe, with the precautions he's been taking to keep his nation safe, they should be relying on each other more.
Sakura keeps talking, her voice wavering here and there and pausing to take deep breaths, but Sasuke doesn't listen to any of it. He doesn't, because all he can focus on is the way in which she hugs herself more than she can manage, and they way in which she holds back tears he has only seen her shed twice in their marriage. And she looks so fragile, so ready to walk away from this and damn him to hell, so ready to punch him, slap him, shake him until he realises just how much she's hurting, that he knows he wouldn't stop her if she ever decided to do just that.
But he knows she would never. More than that, she could never.
Unable to swallow the lump that remains stuck in his throat, Sasuke waits for her to finish her infuriated speech, and only then does he realise that she's expecting him to answer a question.
What it is, he doesn't know. She seems to take the prolongued silence as his way of rejecting whatever she had asked him, and sighs against his robe for quite some time.
"Months ago, I asked you to give me the chance to get to know you, do you recall?"
He looks at her, and answers when she looks up at his face again.
"I do."
She nods and gives him a small smile in the penumbra of their room, now with the sun below the horizon.
"I would still like that," she breathes, clearing her throat when he doesn't immediately answer.
And he doesn't answer. Instead, his gaze drops to the hand clutching at her chest. Her small, delicate hand, holding close to her dress in hopes of holding herself together as well, keeps shaking moments after her outburst.
He raises his hand, then, and takes her own with as much care as he is able to from her chest. He holds it still in his grasp, hoping to stop the trembling that she carries around, but still trying to be as gentle as possible.
Her skin is soft and warm, shaking even though it's not cold inside the room. And then, even in this dim lighting from the twilight outside the room, his eyes travel further down. Unfortunately, it doesn't escape his eyes that there are imprints of his own doing on her soft, otherwise pale skin.
And where once he had held her in his strong hold, now lie finger-sized red, angry marks along her wrist.
Sakura follows his line of vision and gasps, opening her mouth to tell him that it's fine, it's okay, and that it's a very superficial thing. That it will go away, and that he doesn't have to worry.
The reassuring words die in her throat when he looks up from her wrist. He gives her a look, and then, as fast as he had called her to their room, he steps out just as unexpectedly.
.
.
.
Sakura doesn't see Sasuke for another week. She hears from one of his advisors, after almost forcing it out of him, that he has merely gone to the land of Grass. Shikamaru had then told her it was diplomatic business that he had to attend to, and that he would be back in a few days.
After a week and one day, her husband steps through the gates of their castle, walks inside the building itself, and sits at the dining table without sparing her a glance. They eat in silence, and he finishes his portion before she's even halfway through her own.
When he stands from the cushion and rounds the low table, he walks by her in order to get to the stairs that lead up to their room.
She doesn't expect him—sweaty and tired to the bone from the journey to Grass—while still being in this nebulous state with her, to speak as he passes her. But he does. He stops by her side, tells her, and keeps walking out of the dining area.
"As long as I am within the castle's perimeter, you can resume your studies with him."
She's left looking at his retreating back, the food cold on her plate as she drops her chopsticks on the table's surface.
For days, she's too afraid to even attempt to visit Kabuto at his cottage.