Fistful of Love
Kakashi had told his three students to get a good night's rest before he had disappeared off to his own room to sleep for the night, leaving the three of them in the hallway. Naruto bounded off instantly, the oaf, probably to crawl straight into bed without brushing his teeth, Sasuke thought coldly as he returned from the bathroom after washing up.
"Good night Sasuke-kun," Sakura's voice made him turn in his tracks, she watched him with wide eyes, holding a small bag of toilettries in her hands. She smiled at him brightly, the way she always did. But he didn't smile back this time, he never did.
"Good night." He replied stonily and he was already half turned away as he uttered his last constenant. He moved down the hallway, hearing Sakura shut her own door with a wooden tak. No matter how many times he turned away from her she still smiled, he thought dully as he entered the room he was sharing with Naruto for the night.
Naruto was, of course, already lying in bed, his back turned to the doorway. He was snoring lightly and Sasuke, grateful for that fact, quietly moved to his own bed. He knelt down and dragged his rucksack towards him. He undid the buckles and tucked his toothbrush down the side. His fingers brushed something down at the bottom, it felt like a screwed up piece of paper. With a frown Sasuke pulled the paper out, searching his memory for what it could possibly be.
He unfurled it and found his own face looking back up at him; along with the faces of Kakashi, Sakura and Naruto. Sasuke blinked and smoothed the paper out a little more. He remembered this photo being taken and remembered that they all had a copy of it. He also remembered packing it for this mission but not the thought process behind it.
He had been in his home, packing his freshly cleaned and sharpened kunai. Then he had opened a drawer and it had been lying in there and now it was in the bottom of his rucksack. He hated the photograph for what it represented, the fact that he was part of something bigger than himself and that the others relied on him as much as he was beginning to rely on them. At the same time he couldn't get rid of it for the same reason.
He sat staring at it, thinking about her, about Sakura and how with this photograph he could look at her without her knowing it. How he could watch her smile at him the way she always did without her knowing that it meant something to him. This way he could care about her from a distance. It was just like smiling; caring for her through a photograph was cleaner and safer, and it meant that she didn't have to know.
He smoothed his thumb over the photograph before carefully folding it up again and slipping it back into his rucksack. He stared at the bag for a moment or two, frowning. Sasuke glanced over his shoulder at Naruto, through a curtain of dark hair and then undid his bag once more. He drew the photograph out and unfolded it once more; instead of staring at it he slipped it under his pillow and set his head down on top of it. He didn't need to look at it anymore tonight.
He had her smile memorised.