Disclaimer: Do I even need to tell you?
Chapter 2 is finally here! To all you OC's, R&R! More fluff and sappiness ensues!
The second time he held my hand, his eyes were warm and inviting.
It was a rare winter for Konoha, the first time in many years that we had actually had snow in this little village in the Fire country. Everyone had been surprised to wake up to a white desert, but I had been expecting it.
I sighed, small wisps of vapor escaping my cracked and nearly blue lips. It had been three years since Sasuke's escape, three whole years and a few months to be exact, but no one in Konoha seemed to have remembered. I stood still in front of Sasuke's old apartment, my cleaning tools in hand, wondering to myself why I continued to cling on even when there was nothing left but a sheer drop. Perhaps, it was because I had always been a romantic, a hopeless believer in the absolute power of unyielding and everlasting love. That had been what I had promised him, hadn't it? I sighed again, and trudged on forward.
The apartment had been bought by an eager young shinobi a few months before, but he had agreed to let the winter pass before finally moving in. I remember the pity in his eyes as he looked at me, and I remember the disgust I felt at how weak he thought me to be. Did he know I was Tsunade's apprentice? Did he know I was the top medic in Konoha aside from Tsunade-shishou, a fact that was quite praiseworthy seeing that I had only been 16 when I earned the title? Did he know that I was Kakashi-sensei's favorite sparring partner, a jounin, a master at genjutsu and seals?
No. I suppose all he saw as I stood close to tears before him was a little girl who had had the misfortune of promising her undying love to the worst man possible. In some way, that was how everyone else saw me.
In some way I had been expecting it, just as I had expected the snow to fall then.
The keys jangled lifelessly in my hand as I turned the lock and pushed open the door. Immediately, my nose was assaulted with the scent of Sasuke and of everything he had ever been. Blood, sweat, tears, and the strange mixture of rainy days and soap, clung to the space like he had never left. My eyes watered but I wiped them away. If Sasuke had been there, he would've scoffed at my blatant display of emotions.
I steeled myself. I knew it would be the last time that I would be able to surround myself in something concretely him, and I struggled to cope with the overwhelming feeling of loss. It was the final threshold, which I had to overcome. But for all the life in me, I somehow wanted to be held back. Even for just a little longer. Even forever. Just so long as I would be there just in case he ever did return, and I wouldn't have the guilt of knowing that I had ever doubted him to begin with.
I sighed. I remembered that young shinobi's face and I knew there was no way else around it. It was time to step forward.
I went straight towards the kitchen to set up my tools. Outside, the wind hurled crystalline flakes unto unsuspecting windows and I was glad Sasuke had had the presence of mind to fix his windows before he left. They had been broken when the only blonde in team 7 decided to give Sasuke an early call by throwing a can of liver spread through our broody teammate's window. Sasuke had been furious. I had laughed nonstop the entire day.
I smiled to myself. There had been good memories then. I had feared that coming into Sasuke's apartment would only push me into wallowing over regretted actions and fearful recollections. I had been afraid that everything about that space would only tell me how perfectly right Sasuke had been in leaving Konoha and everyone else behind. I had been afraid it would justify his actions in my eyes once again.
A knock at the door.
I looked up. I hadn't told anyone I would be there.
"You in here, Sakura-chan?"
An overwhelming relief rushed through my veins, only to be replaced almost instantaneously with bitter dread that he would rob me of my time alone with Sasuke's memory. I focused my attention on keeping a smile perched on my lips as I headed towards the door to welcome my uninvited company.
"Hey," I greeted him, opening the door fully to let him in. I gestured towards the couch as if it had been my home I was inviting him into, and he settled into its soft albeit dusty cushions with nothing less than a relieved sigh.
I raised an eyebrow at him and he laughed sheepishly in response.
"What brings you here, Naruto? I thought you had a date with Hinata-chan," I began, hoping he would get the hint that I wanted to be alone. It startled me a little that a small something in me grumbled at his having a date with someone else but I knew it was only my possessive streak at work. I had always been possessive about my boys; Kakashi-sensei, Sasuke, and even him, although it hadn't really been that obvious until Sasuke left. After that, I had feared that the two would leave me as well and so I had clung on as hard as I could. Kakashi-sensei once commented that no woman came close to him whenever I was around.
"Date? Oh! Right!" He gave another laugh, although more nervous than sheepish, and turned his body so that his arms and chin rested on the back of the couch and faced me.
I ran a hand through my short locks as if to tell him to hurry up. He knew my mannerisms well enough to read what I implicitly wanted, but for some odd reason, he didn't seem to be getting my drift at that particular moment.
He seemed at a loss for words as his eyes jerked from one position to the next, never really meeting my gaze. For a moment, I felt sorry for him, seeing that he had never been one to feel comfortable in silence, but I had nothing else to say. I wanted him to go away. Some part of me still blamed him for the fact that Sasuke had yet to return, but I knew that it was all irrational and blameful thinking. If I wanted to blame someone, it should've been me. I hadn't the strength to stop him from leaving.
"Ano-sa, uhm…..I was wondering if you'd like some help cleaning this place up. I heard from Hinata that you'd be fixing some things for the next owner so I thought I'd give you a hand. How about it?"
I was surprised at his offer, and more so with the pleading in his eyes as I looked in them for confirmation.
He was staring at me determinedly, though his too active hands seemed to reflect his inner agitation. It took me a while to respond, my mind a proverbial mess of pros and cons of his staying. On one hand, I wanted—no—needed this time alone with Sasuke's memory. It had taken me three years to finally be able to speak his name openly without bursting into tears but something inside of me had refused until now to fully let go. Seeing Sasuke's absence, this was the closest thing to a closure I could ever get.
But then again, Naruto had every right to a closure as well, seeing as we had all been in a single team once. Though it shamed me that I had been jealous, I knew that the two had formed a stronger bond than what Sasuke and I had and would ever share. Surely, Sasuke's self-declared rival and quasi-best-friend was the best choice for a companion in this type of situation.
But I had always been a selfish little brat. I shook my head in an off-handed manner and told him to go home.
"It'd be better for all involved if you just went home, Naruto. You're not exactly the most hygienic person I know and I can't fix any more mess than what I have in my hands." I gestured towards the dust-covered living room and the few cobwebs that had found home on Sasuke's ceiling fan. I made sure to smile and to keep my voice light and amicable, as if I were berating him on one of his mishaps as I have done every so often.
I almost regretted every word when his determined and hopeful face fell and then immediately lifted up into a wide pleasant grin instead. Despite the fact that he seemed to have been happy about the arrangement, that miniscule instant when his eyes seemed filled with so much uncertainties and sadness had me reeling inside. There are some things that do not belong on his face and that look had been one of them.
Too embarrassed and prideful to admit my mistake, I decided to take refuge in silence once more. I knew he hated it but I wanted him to go away and leave me to my own mourning. I had let him go alone on those wild chases for Sasuke all those years though I wanted nothing more than to be there alongside him if he ever did find our missing comrade. I had let him mourn on his own terms without once interfering. I knew he needed the time alone in order to fully understand that there were some things sheer stubbornness could not bring about. Sasuke wouldn't return just because he never said die.
I understood the way his thick skull worked. I was hoping, at that very moment as I stared evasively out the window into the dull white that was Konoha, that he understood how my weak heart worked as well.
After a few seconds of awkward gazes and silent breathing, he stood up and dusted off his pants; patted of the dust that had clung to him from Sasuke's couch. I suddenly felt so lost, like I had somehow been left behind once more. It felt as though he were ridding himself of Sasuke's very essence but I could not, no matter how much bleach and soap I used, rid myself of his stain.
I stood still in anxious limbo. My gut had wrenched at the thought of him actually leaving. I wanted him to; I really did, but still…
His cheerful voice saved me from my internal discourse. It took me a while to push through the din of blood humming erratically in my ears but I had caught a few of his words and the gist of his meaning.
He was leaving.
Again, my stomach fluttered but I kept my passive smile. I nodded in gratitude, escorted him numbly to the door. It felt as though I were moving through sheer bodily instincts. I was glad he hadn't seemed to notice.
On Sasuke's porch, between Sasuke's hallway and his private space, under Sasuke's doorframe that had borne witness to anything and everything that was Sasuke, we found ourselves at a standstill, suddenly unsure and wavering. Were we waiting for something to happen on this holy ground? I could hardly breath as his blue eyes stared me down with so much pent up concern and unsaid care. I looked in shocked awe as his warm hand found its resting place on my frost-kissed cheek. It felt too good to move away.
He smiled again, not his cheeky grin but a small genuine one, and began to rub his thumb over my cheekbone. I felt myself redden but immobile.
"You know, Sakura-chan," and I remember that he had said my name so reverently then, and for the first time I realized how perfect his suffix sounded attached to my name "I won't be a burden to you. I won't ever leave you behind and I'll always protect you. It's a promise of a lifetime, remember?"
My eyes had misted at the sincerity of his voice and I panicked at the loss of my self-restraint in his presence. I chuckled in response, airy and non-committal, a desperate attempt to salvage my façade of lighthearted cheer. I didn't want him to worry but mostly, I didn't want to seem so weak under his eyes. Somehow, I wanted to prove to him that I was just as strong and resilient as the picture he had painted me out to be. I wanted him to be right.
"Stop being so sentimental, Naruto-baka! Besides, Lee-san makes a better nice-guy pose than you do," I grinned. Still, his hand stayed reassuringly on my cheek. "Don't worry. I won't let those stubborn stains in the kitchen sink get the best of me!"
"Hey! I've been perfecting it! See, I almost have the twinkling teeth down now!" he smiled exaggeratedly, pushing his white teeth at me, and I could not help but genuinely laugh. He always had a way of making even the worst moments humorous. I envied him for that from time to time.
He didn't miss a beat; suddenly his warmth was gone from my face and I was left feeling cold and bereft once more. He was halfway down the hall when I was finally able to find my voice and call out to him.
I was surprised at the panicked and somewhat pleading quality of my voice. Again, my face reddened when his expectant gaze fell on my form.
"I- uhm…." I felt like banging my head on Sasuke's door, or on any other solid surface that could knock me out permanently. I was stuttering like some incoherent twit! And in front of him, no less. It was as if whatever affliction made Hinata an extra-nervous wreck as opposed to simply being a nervous wreck when in his presence, had suddenly and inexplicably been passed unto me.
I stopped that train of thought. That was impossible. Hinata was in love.
His cheeky grin lends me enough righteous indignation to find my voice again.
"Don't make promises you can't keep, Naruto!" and as soon as the words flew from my mouth I regretted them instantly. Seeing his blue eyes widen then sadden at my insinuation made me want to rip off my tongue. I had only meant it to be a joking reprimand. I hadn't thought….I wasn't thinking at all! And they called me the smart one!
His large warm hand, the very same one that my cheek sorely missed, rose to scratch his hair—a nervous gesture, but I wasn't fairing any better with my teeth chewing down on my lips. He tried to laugh it off, to push down the solemn air that had accumulated between us, but it sounded far too forced to fool either of us.
Looking back now, I realize what a sad sight we made in that hall; like two worn-out souls looking both lost and constricted by the ugly gray walls of Sasuke's apartment building. We were both so tired of fighting, and of losing to the feel of a gaping whole within us, incessantly pulling us down into its depths; so tired of pretending as if we had not been damaged irrevocably by a loved one's betrayal.
I knew he had loved Sasuke; loves him still, as one might love a brother whose faults you could always forgive.
In some way only he and Sasuke could ever fathom, I knew he had forgiven our prodigal comrade.
I hadn't; could not yet, mainly because I still had not wholly accepted that he had done any wrong. What a fool I was.
I chose to break the unease. I had been the one at fault at any case. I found it surprisingly easy to push down my inflated pride and traverse the few steps separating our lonely existences. I was tired of being lonely and the look had never really suited his usually gay features.
My fingers were shaking as I reached for his sleeve, an eternity passing before my fingers could feel the cool fabric on my skin. He was watching me, his eyes unwavering and curious as he kept his silent vigil. When his sleeve had all been clumped up in my tight grasp, I pulled, like a little child would; tugged repeatedly until he understood.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that," I whispered. I couldn't meet his gaze so I kept my eyes locked unto his sleeve. I felt as though something horrible would happen if I let my gaze wander even the slightest bit.
His fingers brushed over my shoulder, trailing goose bumps where they passed, and fell to rest on my face once more. I never knew such a small gesture could mean so much until then. It was as if all my burdens were lightened, even for just a few seconds of that touch. And when he pulled my chin up to face him, I felt good again; when he smiled, it was as if I had never done anything wrong in my life. Before he said the words, I knew I had already been forgiven—just like Sasuke.
"I know Sakura-chan. It's this weather, I think; all gloomy and really depressing. Plus we're kinda getting Sasuke's left-over broody bastard aura from this place."
I giggled, the way only he can seem to make me do those days; close to the shy, somewhat flirtatious ones I had given Sasuke when we were still full of hope, but more genuine, carefree.
"I guess. But still, sorry." I gave him an embarrassed smile to which he wiggled his eyebrows at. I couldn't help but laugh more heartily at that, although he did lack the effect Lee-san had whenever eyebrows were concerned. "I want you to know, I've never doubted you. And I don't blame you, for anything. It's just…."
"Hey, no biggie Sakura-chan. I get it," he said lightly, his eyes gleaming with a certain amount of pride at that claim. Like I had told him, I had no doubt he truly did.
He still does.
"So, I'll leave you to all this girly cleaning stuff. You go do what you gotta do, Sakura-chan," and at that point I knew he was referring to more than just tile scrubbing and furniture dusting, "I'll see you when you're ready, ok? We can celebrate with ramen! My treat!"
I nodded in thanks, grateful for his understanding and surprising amount of tact. It was as if I was staring at an entirely different person, or maybe just an improvement. I was glad that whatever training he may have done with that perverted teacher of his, it had at least brought him some delicacy he had sorely lacked as a child.
It was another point to him in my tally book.
He pinched my cheek lightly, as if to tell me to smile, and I did, if only after I had stuck out my tongue at him for the gesture. But when I did smile, it had no strings attached. He had cut them off for me.
He left me on that hallway, his yellow hair and bouncy steps slowly taking away the warmth and glow from my presence, but I felt oddly at peace. I watched his back until he had turned the corner and had completely disappeared from my sight. I stood there for a few seconds, slowly feeling his absence take effect, and I knew I had been irreparably attached to the boisterous blond for better or for worse.
When all traces of him were gone—his scent, his aura, that giddy glow he brought wherever he went—I sighed and turned back towards my task, the one I had so selfishly hoarded, the one I had all of a sudden dreaded doing. Sasuke's door stood before me like a black whole, slowly pulling me into depressing darkness. It made me laugh when I realized it wasn't so much the door (it had been painted a pleasant enough blue as was the style of the apartment) but the man who had owned it to some extent that had brought such awful allusions to my head.
Sasuke was my black whole, my gray cloud, my hook and chains and lock. And I had let him be all these, had willingly imprisoned myself and pushed the key into his impassive hands. And that blond dolt—well, he was my better judgment. It was time I let go.
It took me four hours to clean that apartment—four hours to come to terms with what had been, what will never be, and what is; four hours to scrub myself clean of Sasuke's filth, anger, and hatred; four hours to finally grow up and catch up with the present. When I was done, each piece of furniture sparkled as if new. The walls seemed newly painted, the kitchen, just retiled, the windows, newly installed, the floors, lovingly polished. I think Sasuke would have been proud of me, or at least would have been slightly impressed, at the transformation I had brought about into his space.
And I stood there, dirty, ragged, dusty, sore, and a little out of breath from all the heavy lifting, and I smiled goodbye to my fairytales and nightmares. Sasuke was gone now. The place no longer held his scent, then replaced by the floral air freshener I had taken from my mother's cupboard. The scratches and nicks that had borne witness to his raging existence had all been sanded out and polished, peaceful in their smoothness. I had taken the liberty of removing all of Sasuke's personal belongings, or what little he had of them, and wrapped them each reverently in layers of newspaper, placed them into boxes that will most likely never be opened again. All the while, I had cried.
When I sealed the boxes shut, my eyes were finally dry.
I gave myself a mental congratulation, glad that I had done what I had set out to do. It made me giddy to think that the shinobi who would inherit my teammates legacy of sorts would think, if nothing else, that I would make an extremely good wife. I supposed that was better than the weak little girl he had pegged me for.
I sighed, this one full of relief and certain hopefulness for what was in the future. I gathered all my supplies, making sure I left nothing of myself in this space that could even remotely haunt its new occupants, and began to leave.
When I opened the door I was met with blue eyes and a warm grin. He was standing in front of Sasuke's door as if it were the most natural thing, his left hand holding up a plastic bag suspiciously stretched down like a stack of bowls.
"Naruto?" My voice was small and hoarse, unused for the four hours of my ablution. I blushed at its squeaky quality.
"Hey! Thought you'd be finished by now so I brought you some ramen to celebrate!" he grinned as if he hadn't noticed my unappealing state. Without preamble, he took my cleaning supplies and placed them by the door, shutting the piece of wood and metal behind me as he rose to meet my surprised face. Then his hand was on mine, so very hard and rough but offering all the comfort in the world I could ever need. He tugged me down and I followed, sitting beside him as he struggled to prepare our meals single-handedly. I laughed heartily at the sight.
"You could let go of my hand, you know?" I said in joking reprimand as he finally succeeded in opening the lids. He placed one bowl in front of me and my stomach growled in appreciation. He smiled as if it were the most natural sound in the world.
"Yeah but I don't wanna!" he said matter-of-factly. He handed me chopsticks, already broken in half, and then smiled in way that said, "Eat!"
I hummed as I struggled to eat left-handed. He surprised me into immobility when he picked up the bowl with his hand, trapping mine between the warmth of his skin and the warmth of Ichiraku's styrofoam bowl. Then he proceeded to attempt to feed me.
I sputtered my way back to reality. "W-what? Why? I mean—"
"Because you haven't let go yet. And I won't until you do, or tell me to, or maybe I just never will since I'm a very stubborn guy anyway. Promise of a lifetime, right?"
Despite his joking tone and choice of words, I knew he was saying something deeper, something I had already known for so long but simply refused to acknowledge as truth. A promise of a lifetime. A lifetime promised to another. A past, present, and future all rolled into five little words and so easily given.
My eyes misted but I shook my head when I saw his alarm. I smiled and lunged, catching the noodles dangling from his proffered chopsticks that it surprised him into a healthy blush of his own. It had to admit, it looked good on him.
"Ok," I said after I had chewed down the oily noodles and swallowed them. I don't think I've ever tasted anything quite as good as that one bite.
"Ok" he repeated, somewhat in a daze. But then he bounced back, that eager grin splitting his face in an oddly endearing way, and moved to serve me more noodles.
We leaned on Sasuke's closed door, its wooden length conveying nothing else but that. It was just a door and we turned our backs on it easily when we felt our sides stiffen at its solidness.
We talked and laughed and ate, clumsily and in turns that we had more noodles on the floor than in our stomachs. But no one was there to reprimand us. Sasuke was silent; truly silent for once, and the snowy barrenness outside meant nothing to us.
All the while, we sat there, our hands intertwined in the most impractical but perfect way possible, and for once, I was thankful for it.
Author's notes: Awkward ending. This was a bitch to write! R&R please! I beg you! I implore you! Maawa kayo sa akin!