Chapter 27

Sakura ran. The air was cold but her sweatshirt held in her warmth, her flare, the heat that was radiating from her soul. Her lungs burned and her eyes watered as she trudged up the hill, embracing a runners' high. Each footstep led her closer to the training grounds. Deciding not to take to the rooftops, she used the meandering bystanders as practice for dodging. Their faces blurred as she dipped and ducked, blending into one singular, muted mass.

She needed a release.

Her clothes stick to her body as she swings her axe, letting the backlash wave tear down a row of foliage beyond. The weapon is still heavy and awkward in her grasp, but she is slowly learning when to pull, when to tug. Her swipes were surer and her accuracy improved.

She plants the blade into the soil and rotates around the shaft, kicking her legs out to deter nonexistent enimies. Over and over she jabs, she hits, scarring trees and upturning roots just because she could.

It was better than staying home, waiting around, worrying.

"You're such an asshole," Naruto calls, following Sasuke from the rooftops. He was fast, probably faster than Naruto was, and it was hard to make out his shape as he raced towards the edge of Konoha.

He wasn't leaving—there was only one road out of town, and they'd already gone far past it. Still, there wasn't anything worth looking at this far from the centrality of their home. As a roll of thunder growls from the sky, Sasuke lands on the ground and Naruto follows suit.

Oh, here…

The cemetery peaks out from beyond a singular, cobblestone road, looming mournfully under layers of freshly fallen leaves. Some of the headstones are new, greatly contrasting their weathered, mossy cousins. The scent of flowers cover up the decay beneath—Naruto's nose wasn't as sharp as Kiba's, but foxes were still sensitive.

Sasuke's footfalls do not halt as he delves deeper within, taking the proper paths around headstones and memorials so as not to disturb any spirits. It seems he's well versed on these grounds. It's a morbid realization.

Silently, Naruto follows, eyeing the names etched upon stone. Some share surnames with friends—Nara, Yamanaka—some are too warn to make out. In the war, 80,000 ninja across the five great nations combined. Within the first day, half of the troupe was wiped out. The most recent section of the graveyard lays a simple memorial, etching out the names of those who had perished.

Those Naruto couldn't save.

"What are we doing here?" Naruto asks as he picks up his pace. The howl of sad spirits makes his heart clench. So many of them were proof of his failures (although he understands the tides of change were difficult to swim against).

Sasuke continues onward, to where his clan insignia sits boldly atop a torii gate. It is the marking of sacred space. His chakra fluctuates, only slightly, but Naruto can feel it nonetheless.

"I need you to help me." Sasuke says simply, bypassing a temple meant for prayer. He walks towards the largest tomb—one that belongs to the highest monarchs.

One that belongs to Sasuke's parents.

Naruto chokes.

Death was such a miserable thing. Naruto had lost people he loved, before he'd even known them. But, there was something…even more sorrowful in this section of land. So many memorials were inscribed with the same date, much like those of war, except the Uchiha were the only participants. It went beyond tragedy. It was downright demonic.

As his friend bounds up the steps to his families shrine, Naruto stuffs his hands into his pocket. "With what?"

Sasuke never asked for help. Bringing Naruto here, saying this things—something heavy must be tugging on him.

"My family was a lot like Hinata's. I'm sure you've seen their dynamics by now, since you've married into it." Sasuke begins.

Naruto knew exactly what he was talking about. They were people of tradition and dignity, sometimes too caught up in their own jaded beliefs. The Hyuuga influenced a lot of people in Konoha. Much like the Uchiha once had, he's sure.

"I'm going to be leaving after these exams."

Naruto crosses his hands behind his head. It wasn't news to him, after all. "Of course you are."

"I don't think you understand just how much I—just how much it hurts me to be in this place. These walls are like a prison. I can't stop thinking about my family, how they used to walk these very roads. I don't like being here. I don't like who I am, when I'm here, either."

Screams echo in Sasuke's mind—screams he's thankfully never heard in real life. The blood of his clan has soaked into the bones of this village. Sasuke sees their faces in the eyes of civilians—his aunts and uncles, the children that were younger than he was…the infants he'd once held, all rotting in the soil below.

In the distance, they both focus on a carving of a child, peaking out above where it's ashes must lay. An uchiwa fan, covered in moss, was carefully chiseled within the stone hand.

"This place is your home, Sasuke." Naruto begins, scratching the back of his head, blinking back the moisture in his eyes because he just couldn't imagine… "I know it…must be hard for you. People haven't accepted you back just yet. But, you have to give them time, ya know?"

He stares wholly into Naruto's face.

Home is not a warm bed, a familiar toothbrush or a roof over your head. These rocks and piles of dirt, these shiny fresh buildings meant nothing to him. "The only bonds I have to this place lie in Team 7. You, Kakashi, Sakura—you're my home. I will protect this place because you guys inhabit it. That's why you deserve to be Hokage.

"I'm still following the traces left behind various members of the Otsutsuki. It's an obligation only I can fulfill. That means I won't always be around when the moon starts to fall or—"

"Just tell me what you want me to do." Naruto interrupts. Kakashi had been very private about Sasuke's journeying, but he wasn't a complete idiot. The rinnegan allowed for interdimensional travel, and Sasuke was the only one who could track those crumbs.

But, why bring this up now…so randomly—

"I need you to protect her," He finally bluts, laying his hand on the grave of his deceased parents. "I need to know that she's in good hands with you, when I leave."

They both know how strong Sakura was. There were enemies in this world that even Sasuke and Naruto feared, however…enemies that even the likes of Kaguya would cower from.

"I'll do everything I can," his blond friend responds, staring up at the grey clouds pregnant with rain. "But you're the only one who—"

Turning sharply, Naruto sees the anger in Sasuke's face. "That's just it. I can't. No matter what I do, no matter which direction I choose, Sakura always ends up bruised and shattered. I can't keep her mind, body, or soul safe. Not like you can."

Blinking slowly, Naruto doesn't seem at all bothered by his friends sudden misdirected hostility. "You shouldn't rely on others to take care of those who are precious to you."

Sasuke clenches his fist as a twig breaks from under his boot. "I'm not relying on others. I'm relying on you. I heard what she said—that I'm killing her. All of my actions are mistakes. I can't think of anything else to do."

Naruto's eyebrows furrow. "That's because you're thinking with your head, and not your heart. These things that keep happening—it's all because you have to analyze and calculate fifteen steps ahead. Focus on what's going on now Sasuke. What Sakura said, that was taken completely out of context."

"What context can make that phrase any better?"

The announcer's harsh words should not be spoken in this place, where Sasuke's kin lie six feet below. Naruto decides not to elaborate, at least not now. So much of Sasuke and Sakura's relationship would be healed if both just gave into their whims more often. These second guesses, these hesitations…they were the cause of the turmoil between them. Sakura loved Sasuke. Sasuke loved Sakura. That's it.

The world may be shades of grey, but sometimes, things really were just black and white.

The wind carries the scent of the rain. He loves the smell. Naruto thinks of camping out on school nights in the depths of the forest, under the blue canopy of nightfall. He thinks of freshly roasted fish and mushroom soup and falling from the mountain tops into dense foliage.

Soon snow would fall, and soon spring would bloom, and then next summer…Hinata would give birth to their first child. Someone else that Naruto had to protect. A new, different kind of obligation.

He grins boyishly. "I'm going to be a father."

A poignant wind shifts between them.

Sasuke locks his eyes into blue, unblinkingly, not bothering to hide the shock that rolled from his body. It was as though he's been stabbed, and the sudden jolt makes his body immobile and his mouth incapable of speech.

"Ah…"

Air rushes out of his lungs as if he'd been hit. Sasuke couldn't breathe—he couldn't tell up from down and left from right. On the steps of his family shrine, Sasuke Uchiha flops down onto his bottom, to keep himself from tipping over.

His legs splay out on either side of him. Then, Sasuke crosses them, balls up his fists, spreads his legs out again, and finally reaches for the tips of his toes in one nervous jumble. He shakes his head in disbelief. "Fuck,"

Naruto squats down, still smiling, hand firmly pressing onto the back of his neck.

Hinata had told him only the day before. She'd stopped serving freshly cooked fish; she refused the alcohol he offered, and her avoidance had been too much to ignore. Naruto was wondering what in the hell he'd done wrong.

When he'd found the courage to ask her, she pulled out a pair of yellow socks from their bedroom drawer. Naruto stared at them, and the tiny white bows that lined the hem. With a furrowed brow he thought, those won't fit her. Did I shrink them in the wash or something? Hinata was as patient as she was kind, and she took his panicked expression with a lighthearted laugh.

Naruto Uzumaki was going to be dad.

…and Sasuke Uchiha was scared shitless.

The man rubs his face with both hands and covers his mouth with the collar of his shirt. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,"

"Jesus Christ, calm down." Naruto says, rolling his eyes. "It's a baby, not a bomb."

Sasuke's head felt as if it were going to explode right then and there. On top of everything—The Exams, his never-ending mission, his bewildering relationship with Sakura—Naruto had to throw this into the mix too. There was so much to worry about, so much to be done. What were they going to do about money?

No, wait; Hinata's family had a lot of cash. Naruto has a good income now, too. But babies—holy shit—babies are so…expensive…there's so much you have to do.

He opens his mouth and lets his words tumble out, taking Naruto's advice without really meaning to. This was what he sounded like without the intermediary of his mind. This is how Sasuke felt, truly, in this moment.

"You've got to buy clothes, like, a lot of clothes. You've got to get onesies and sleepsuits and socks and pants and shirts and—"

The Kyuubi's eyebrows jerk upwards. "I-I know that!"

"…and bedding, a crib, bibs and bottles and diapers and—"

"Sasuke, yo, chill."

"Will it be a boy or a girl? What are you going to name it? It has to be a strong name—one it can grow into. Name them after Neji—he was strong. He was a good man."

"She's only a couple of weeks along, dude. Right now it's a bean." Naruto explained. He sits down beside Sasuke, on the steps of his families memorial shrine—the last Uchiha was not alone. He wouldn't have to be ever again.

Naruto watches Sasuke with a newfound respect. He had known him as an enemy, a friend, a training partner and a brother. They had grown both together and apart. Still, one could not have expectations of Sasuke. He would constantly break them into pieces. As an Uncle, she sure was a worry-wart.

Sasuke's mind is twirling, quicker than the flickering of his doujutsu. He remembers when his cousins gave birth. Mikoto had always brought her youngest along, because Itachi was never around and Fugaku didn't much care for babies.

He remembers the fat cheeks and the purple skin and the fine coating of hair some had—lanugo is what the nurse had called it. When it was Sasuke's turn to hold, he had flat out refused.

"She's your family," his mother had said. "If you don't hold her, it will bring her bad luck!"

Sasuke hated himself for a long time after that. It was one of the first things that had popped into his mind after his family had been slain. If I had just held her, he thought, maybe she wouldn't have died.

Sasuke was terrified for his friend. Did Naruto know how…fragile those things were? They couldn't survive without love, without touch and care. Feedings every few hours, around the clock...babies couldn't regulate their temperatures on their own, they couldn't communicate why they cried or what was bothering them. How could Naruto be so brave, so strong?

Sasuke did not want children, not ever. He couldn't even protect Sakura properly. If he had a child there would be no way he could—no way he…

"You're going to be a Papa."

Naruto laughs genuinely. It's the dumbest thing he's ever heard come out of Sasuke's mouth. It's so…juvenile, so unlike the absolute powerhouse adjacent to him. "Yeah, I guess I am."

The Kyuubi extends his legs out, leaning back onto the palms of his hands. He smiles up at the sky, thankful that the clouds kept the rain at bay for a few more moments.

"For the first time in my life, I can't put someone else's wishes first, Sasuke. I have to do what I want to do. If something happens, I'm going to be with my wife…with my child. They…they're my everything."

Sasuke looks up, understanding completely. He wouldn't ask him to do any different, not now that he knew. If Naruto would not be able to take care of Sakura in his absence, he would simply have to find someone that could.

It is late when Sasuke comes back, and Sakura's surprised he comes back to her home at all. Although the day was dreary and drizzly, Sasuke didn't seem to mind facing the elements.

She had been restless. She was tired from training but her mind was too busy to sleep, thinking of all that had transpired, and where she possibly could have messed up.

She pulled at the wrappings around her chest as clicked though the stations of her television, trying to find something interesting enough to help her zone out. When the door opens abruptly, in the dead of night, Sakura expertly drapes a woven afghan around her shoulders, covering her partially bare torso with haste.

He really, really came back.

Sasuke shrugs off his cloak and sets it on the rack, meeting her gaze as he enters her home. He didn't knock, or ask permission. Something seems to be bothering him even more than when he'd left. "Can I get something to drink?"

Sakura bats her eyelashes slowly, curious of his recent predicament. "W…What would you like?"

"Just water," Sasuke responds, watching as Sakura walks past him and into the kitchen. He sits at the table as she scoops ice into a glass. There was no easy way to say this. "Naruto's pregnant."

The phrase, although serious in nature, sends Sakura into a fit of giggles.

They start out slow, but by the time his beverage is in front of him she's in an all-out fit. Her cheeks are red. There are small cuts all over her face and neck, like she had pulverized earth sometime earlier. Tears leak from her eyes and flow along the minor injuries.

Sasuke deadpans. "I'm serious. He's two weeks along."

"Stop," she says, leaning against the counter. "Naruto's not pregnant—Hinata is."

"You knew?" This intrigues him, ignoring her focus on semantics. It certainly wasn't his place to tell her about their friend, but he was only following Naruto's advice.

The woman smiles meaningfully. Sakura was worried that Sasuke would be mad at her when he came back. He looked tired and stressed out—but his mood was mellow and, for that, she was thankful.

"I'm the one that told her. I did her examination the other day."

"Ah,"

Sakura makes her way to him, feeling the tension dither, if only slightly. She brushes his hair out of his eye, successfully exposing amaranthine. She loves to see him like this—uninhibited and exposed, but he does not like it. Not now, at least…

He pulls away.

Her home is warm as warm as her laugh had been. Although something heavy had just occurred between them, it seems as though Sakura isn't bothered in the least. She's so forgiving, so understanding. Sasuke feels, for the first time in his life, like a moth drawn to a flame that didn't belong to his own body. Words float around in his within.

"If you promise not to be scared of me, I promise not to be scared of us."

"Focus on what's going on now Sasuke."

Why did everything have to be such a battle? Sasuke even fought against his own promises, his own words. When they were apart, it was easy to want happiness with Sakura. But together?

The clock in her living room chimes. It is midnight. Her heart sinks down into her stomach, because it seemed that he was still denying her. "So…you are mad at me."

He waits until it finishes its bellow before he replies. "No, I'm not."

"Mad" was too weak of an emotion. What was the word you used when you were upset that someone wanted you, even though you only brought them strife? What was the word you used when…when you wanted them, too?

Sasuke wanted her to be safe. He wanted her to be happy and carefree and he wanted her to have everything she coveted—a nice home, her dream job—would she want children, too?

These were things Sasuke could not give her, and things that she simultaneously deserved.

"If you aren't mad, let me touch you."

Sasuke looks at her and takes another swig of his water. He wished it was alcohol. He wished it made him feel like he did in the Sage realm—wistful and carefree and like he could vomit out everything he'd ever consumed in his entire life.

It is not alcohol, though, and it was empty.

He stands and deposits the cup into the sink, passing by Sakura. His resolve was chipping away. He didn't have the will to tell her no, because more than anything, he wanted her to kiss him too. At the same time, Sakura knows by asking, it's just a superficial manipulation of her heart. Kissing did not make them any closer. Kissing did not mean he would belong to her.

"I won't keep saying it," He says to her finally, leaning against the counter.

She nods and makes her way to him. She reaches for his hand and slides her fingers around it. Gently, slowly, she guides it to her mouth and presses her lips against the scarred surface. It is hesitant and anxious contact, full of guilt and desperation.

Her seafoam green eyes are wet when she pulls away. He's hurt her yet again. "Is this painful for you?"

Without speaking, his expression urges her to elaborate.

"Is it painful that I'm always initiating contact—do you not want me to touch you like this, to kiss you?"

"It's not about me," Sasuke sighs, letting his hand fall away from her.

Ino had been right. Sakura is just an inexperienced child in his eyes.

"If it's about me," she begins, taking a step closer into his space. "Then, I want you to be more open. If I do something that…is uncomfortable, tell me. If I come on too strong, let me know. I want…I want you to be involved. I want you to kiss me back."

No one could make her feel this way—so hopeless, so impassioned. Sasuke had never lied to her, but as earnest as his words may be when he speaks them, his actions never seemed to respect them.

She wants him, and only him, in every sense of the word.

Sasuke pulls her hand away from tear-filled eyes and walks her closer to him. He gathers her chin with his fingertips, smoothing down her lower lip with the rough pad of his thumb. Eyelashes, so pale and tangled, cradle her wide, green irises.

Slowly, with deliberation, the Uchiha dips his head low, smoothing his nose against her cheek. "Do you want me to kiss you?"

"Y-yes," The woman responds dazedly.

"Then just ask." He breathes against her and presses a careful peck to e corner of her mouth. Sakura flutters her eyelids and exhales dreamily.

He was supposed to stop there. It was supposed to be a lighthearted gesture, meant to ease the tension between them. A kiss like the one she'd placed upon his nose—the bare minimum—something safe.

A smoldering, blistering heat erupts from just below Sakura's belly, so hot it feels like her blood is evaporating. Sasuke feels it too. The tension did not dissipate. If anything, it came back tenfold.

Dragging delicate strokes, Sasuke inches towards his thumb, which lies directly in the middle of her mouth. Just before his graze makes full contact, he pauses, erasing the hesitations and inhibitions from his mind.

They both needed this. It wasn't about wants anymore.

Sasuke kisses her wholly. His teeth catch at her lower lip, earning a shocked jolt in response. He follows with a tender caress of his tongue, to pacify any discomfort.

Backing up, Sakura is pressed against the counter and the corner digs into the small of her back uncomfortably. She gathers the material of his shirt between both hands, ready to keep him in if he decides to stray.

As if he could tell, Sasuke runs his hands along the curves of her hips and lifts her onto the countertop, immediately settling between her knees.

It's the most intimate thing that has physically happened between them.

It's still not close enough.

Dainty fingers trail up Sasuke's arms, the bend of his shoulders, the back of his neck and finally bury themselves into the charcoal locks of his hair. She scrapes her nails against his scalp. He pulls back, only to slide pecks along the sides of her cheeks and the slant of her jaw.

Something comes out of her mouth—it's a sound she's never made before. Disappearing against his forehead, the mewl of his own name escapes. "Sasuke,"

Lower he goes, dragging his brand above her throbbing jugular. Sasuke can feel her heartbeat as he blemishes her skin, devouring her emotions—excitement, trepidation, yearning—they go straight into his gut and kindle his flame. Her capillaries burst in response to his teeth, blooming into small, pink welts.

"Sto…"

The man leaves a path of raspberry stains. He marks her—not to prove ownership, or because he wants others to know where he's been, but because he's never consumed anything quite like her flesh and he can't get enough. He lets his thumb slide under the wrappings of her chest and all too soon, she pushes him back roughly.

"Stop."

His response is immediate.

Backing away from her, Sasuke raises his hands in a military surrender.

This indulgence went way beyond what Sasuke meant to happen. It had gone too far. It was best if Sakura controlled things, because the second he allowed even a slight expansion of his willpower, things escalated dangerously. Look at where they were now.

Berating himself, Sasuke almost doesn't see Sakura's movements. In the moonlight, she pants and runs her fingers over the discolorations riddled along her from jaw to collarbone. They sting.

Sakura's skin looks silver, her face is mauve and her lips are red and swollen because of his force. She she had become a feast and Sasuke, a glutton.

Just as he caught his breath—that ran ragged from adrenalin and anticipation—and before he could apologize, Sakura looks down at the swathe of her chest and deftly loosens the folds.

"I'll take them off for you."