Chapter 36:

There's a man by the road that is beckoning to passersby's. He's selling cabbage—freshly picked—and his voice pierces above the dull roar of the morning crowd.

To the left, a young boy passes out news articles. The front page depicts the fourteen winners of the second round of The Jōnin Exams, and he passes out the papers for 5 ryo each. They sale quickly, because everyone is excited for what's to come, and they're eating up every ounce of information they can get.

Conversations bob in and out between Sasuke, Sakura and Suigetsu, mingling in with random clacks and clangs, and the squishy sounds of boots on mud. Yet, none of these things catch hold of Sasuke quite like Sakura's sentence does.

Her words do not shock him, nor do they make him feel disappointed. It was a true statement from the genuine girl that she was. She's always been bold and brash—the daintier, female equivalent of Naruto Uzumaki in some ways. (With a lot more class.) Any other reaction really would have been out of character.

This was not a figurative situation about Suigetsu and some exotic, unknown mistress, though. This was representative of Sasuke's incorrect actions and Sakura's three-year-plus heartbreak as a result of his weak bond-breaking, and his attitude in his early teens.

Suigetsu wishes to hold this revelation over Sasuke's head.

"You'd hate him?" Suigetsu asks, looking from between the two. Sakura kept her gaze firm and her jaw set, determined not to back down. "That's a little harsh, don't you think?"

"It is harsh," Sakura retorts, losing all of her cordiality. More than anything she wants to walk right up to that water-guppy and slam her chakra fist into is liquefied face. "But what else would you expect? You want me to feel sorry for you?"

Suigetsu freezes in confusion. Wait…Me?!

In all of the daydreams he'd had of this moment, Suigetsu didn't plan to be the butt of Sakura's backlash. He'd only intended to rile Sasuke up, and maybe get a little misguided pity. Sakura walks up to him, nose scrunched, face full of disgust.

"Maybe not, "feel sorry", but yeah a little sympathy would be good." The azure-shaded man mumbled with humor.

"Then, it truly is amazing that you're really as dumb as you look. Don't compare your stupid little…affair to the feelings I've had for Sasuke. They're not similar in the least. My situation is different from yours."

Suigetsu does not back down. He's not afraid of a five-foot-nothing, bubble-gum-pink haired girl with a napoleon complex. In fact, if Sasuke wasn't here he's not sure she would still be standing at all. Oh, to relive the days of the past, plundering and pillaging and… "I'd love to hear all of the reasons you think your situation is different, Pinky. Please, don't leave out any details."

Sakura narrows her eyes at the jab, and dips her eyebrows so low that she can almost see them in her vision.

Being on Team 7 had been a dream come true. She loved the fact that she would be close to Sasuke, and slowly Naruto became a precious person—someone she would risk her life for. At first, their dynamics were askew and messy. Teamwork never came easily.

Naruto was far ahead in strength, but behind in skill. Sasuke was equal in both, and Sakura was good at neither. (Excellent chakra control and book-smarts only got you so far.) The boys always argued, Kakashi was always late, and Sakura didn't have a care in the world.

But, somewhere along the way, there had been a shift.

Sasuke craved the power Orochimaru offered. He needed to get stronger. He was haunted by the screams of his clan that replayed repeatedly in his mind. There was a certain man he needed to kill

And so, he cut his ties.

Sakura feels her fingernails bite into the palm of her hand.

She remembers the cool breeze of the night air, and his harsh, unpleasant words that echo in the confines of her mind. If she closes her eyes she can still feel his adolescent body behind her—she can still hear the fragile timbre of his voice as the wind carried his gratitude.

"Thank you."

To this day, she has no idea what he was thanking her for. Was he thanking her for being a lousy teammate? Was the thanking her for being weak, and snotty, and holier-than-thou?

Thinking of Sasuke, up until that point, had always given her a giddy feeling. They'd all died that night, crumbling into decayed skeletons, and all she was left with was worry and a bitter taste in her mouth.

Her fingers tremble.

If Sasuke had cared for her, maybe Sakura could have done more. She's never had any type of sway over him, so the idea—the ridiculous notion Suigetsu spat out only makes concealed emotions rebound within her soul tenfold.

If Sasuke cared for me, I could have stopped him.

But I couldn't stop him.

I couldn't save him.

So, Sakura decides that, if Sasuke had feelings for her that went beyond simple comradery, she would absolutely hate him. She would hate him for abandoning her, and not accepting her childish pleas, and turning his back on his entire village to dedicate his life—his being—to Itachi Uchiha's demise. Sakura didn't care if she sounded like a brat. She couldn't help it.

All throughout her internal suffering, Suigetsu smiles happily. He is a man that thrives off pain and sadness. Her face shows it all—agony, heartbreak, dejection. It always thrilled him when he could insight such reactions by simple words.

To think, he hadn't even divulged his secret.

He runs his tongue along his teeth, thinking of the next cruel line of action. What could he say that would break that fragile spirit of hers, and intern, get that same familiar rise in anger that Sasuke used to so easily emit?

He'd come back to this village a hero, and he was nothing of the sort.

Sasuke was like Suigetsu—ruthless, cruel, and savage. There was no point in denying it. Suigetsu really did miss his maniac of a leader. It was always nice to be around like-minded people. Playing sweetheart with an old…indulgence would get Sasuke nowhere.

But, before Suigetsu can deliver the final blow to Sakura's ego and heart, Sasuke Uchiha of the Uchiha clan…

…with eyes as black as his soul and rage as palpable as a hurricane…

…with hands that have slain powerful enemies and attacked friends without any moral hindrances…

…reaches out to this unimportant girl with a delicacy never before seen.

Sakura feels the roughness of Sasuke's hand steadying her trembling fingers. Each digit slides between her knuckles in a firm steady grip as his piercing eyes stay locked on his former colleague.

"Suigetsu," The man says with a deliberate tone of voice. "We've got some place to be."

Oh, how the mighty had fallen.

The complete shift from Sasuke Uchiha was unnerving to say the least. Suigetsu is certainly not used to witnessing such a display from the very man who'd vowed to demolish his entire hometown and every soul within it. Including the little peach he was so interested in.

Whatever was going on between Sasuke and Sakura wasn't at all what Suigetsu had expected. Karin would have a hard time breaking their walls, that's for sure, and it seemed as though she was seven years too late. This was something that had started the day their little team was formed.

As dumb as Sakura believed him to be, Suigetsu wasn't foolhardy enough to reveal this trump card—just yet. The time would come, when Sasuke was done playing with his prey, and he would turn back into the warmonger Suigetsu knew and…dare he say it…loathed.

Get Sasuke back. Gather up the old pals. Then, Suigetsu would finally get a chance collect all of swords from Seven Ninja Swordsman of The Mist.

The final stage of the Jōnin Exams couldn't come quick enough. This town stinks.

Soon, they are heading back down the street from the bank—a lengthy and time-consuming ordeal. It was nice to experience such normality. These still, slow moments are a welcomed ebb to the increasingly busy and emotionally charged interactions as of late.

"You're angry," Sakura says aloud.

"I am."

"With me?"

Sakura would certainly understand it, if he was. She'd had quite an emotional interaction with someone who—although Sasuke didn't show it—was a companion of his. She'd taken on the pain of the woman he'd slighted as if it were her own.

"No, Sakura. Not with you."

She nods.

Sakura had been very hormonal. It had probably started before Sasuke even came back, but more and more Sakura found herself wallowing in self-pity and experiencing random sobbing sessions—becoming hurt or offended at the slightest of things. It wasn't all that abnormal for someone as young as she was, dealing with infertility issues. She makes a mental note to run some test as soon as she could.

As they walked on—Sakura counting out all of the things that needed to be done in the upcoming days, Sasuke too fell deep into thought. Things were coming to a head. Blackmailed in every which direction, it was hard not to react from anger. He too had been emotional, reckless, and most of all…exhausted. The fights never seemed to end.

"Sasuke…? I think I'm going to train weaponry with Hinata today." Sakura says, counting out her upcoming tasks. "I'll have dinner with my mother later. If I have time, I'd also like to swing by the hospital. I won't be home too late."

"Ah,"

With a polite bow, Sakura bends and bids him goodbye in heavy thought.

Sakura got in later than expected from her practice with Hinata. It was a very lax session. Mostly, the girls spoke about unimportant things. It was nice to swing her battleaxe and speak about nothing important-not boys, not work, not the exams. It had only left her with hour before dinner at her mother's, however, and that meant she'd have to rush through a perfectly warranted bath.

Her hair falls in loose, pressed waves between her shoulder blades. She's tied it too tight with her elastic band, and the sudden slackness makes her headache disappear immediately. Sakura detangles the strands and opens the door to her bathroom, turns on the faucet to fill the tub, and peels off her training gear. She curls her pale fingers around the porcelain sink and stares at the woman that smiled back.

She was still there, in all of her glory. Whatever her hormones were doing—emotional or not—Sakura was thrilled they let her see her body kindly again. Sakura skims down the length of her narrow midriff. Her skin is sprinkled with ever-so-light marks—the residue of her heated, passionate exchange with Sasuke Uchiha.

The Sasuke Uchiha.

As steam wafts around and fogs up the mirror in front of her, Sakura uses her finger to write out:

S-A-K-U-R-A

U-C-H-I-H-A

And giggles to herself. Before she can wipe it away, Sakura hears the front door shut. By the footsteps alone she knows it is Sasuke.

She is happy she'll get to see him before dinner with her mother. She was dreading the foreseen argument about Sakura's ninja status— "Chunin is high enough!"— and how she needed to settle down, find a man, start a family—by any means necessary. "You won't be young forever!"

Keh.

Sakura opens the door unabashedly, hurriedly, suddenly unable to stand being out of his reach. Not when she looks and feels this good. Not when everything's OK for now. Not while she has him, here, for just a little while longer…

Sasuke, who been ambushed in his sleep, punted into rock, blasted through icy water in all sorts of odd, agonizing situations, was…conditioned to surprise attacks. But not like, from Sakura. The young woman slams him into the door, forcing him backwards with a hefty 'oof'.

"You're back," She says, wrapping both her arms and legs around him. "Welcome home!"

As he tries to catch his breath, her words bring back a forgotten familiarity. How long had it been since he'd been greeted with those words?

In the Land of Waves, after being pierced with senbon, Sasuke recalls waking up to her tears and the weight of her young body, and thinking: It's been so long since someone has cried over me. It's been so long since someone has cared.

She's always held a place in his heart, since then. The girl that shed tears so easily, the girl that was frightened of death and fighting…the girl that would face even the most formidable of enemies with nothing but her life on the line…

Sakura was…Sakura is…a very important person to Sasuke.

He doesn't even speak. The bareness of her, the happiness she emits, the safety and warmth of her home—Sasuke wants to become engulfed in it all. Their lips meet—ungently—and they move parallel to the floor of the hallway. No bed, not even a couch was necessary. There was too much electricity to pull them apart.

With every movement he made, Sakura followed suite. Their hearts beat in similar succession as adrenalin and lust overwhelmed them. As if choreographed or practiced, the two move in sync as they become one. Sakura tangles her fingers deep within his dense hair, squeezing.

How had they gone so long without this?

Sasuke is no longer blushing, nor coy. He wants her too badly for that. "Hands up," he commands.

"Yes," Sakura whispers to him, in compliance.

Sasuke leans down onto his forearm and gently kisses her forehead, where her seal was—her nose, her eyelids, her cheeks and chin.

He knew exactly what he was doing.

Skipping to her ear, his whispers, "Good," and trails his lips down her jawline and to her clavicle. Sasuke dances over her breasts, and her navel, and all of the places he's learned get the biggest responses from her—so slowly, so very slowly.

He finally reaches the apex of her legs, still closed off to his pressure. Using the sharpest points of his canines, he drags his teeth over the plunge of her hipbone. She's honey soft and creamy, squirming beneath him as he warmed her flesh with his mouth. Her arms move from their spot above her head and she grips his hair.

Guiding his hand towards hers, he softly detangles her digits and looks at her from below, between his thick lashes. He gifts her his brilliant half-smile. "Be good, and put your hands back up for me."

"Y-yes," She remembers, placing the back of her hands back above her head and against the hardwood floor.

He draws lazy circles against her skin, feather soft, tasting and touching everywhere but where she wanted him most. Her body was clay, and he was shaping her into whatever he wanted her to be. Sakura was completely, and happily, at his every will and whim.

But merciful was he, who made his way back up to her mouth to kiss her. Then, to her breasts, spending time with each, with a tantalizing slowness that made her yearn for more. The nectar of her femininity tempted him. And finally, after what seemed like forever, Sakura's was appeased.

Sasuke made his way lower, letting his fingernails leave half-moons on the swell of her bottom as ate his fill. Gasps, and huffs exited her mouth, quick and shallow, waiting for the explosion of ecstasy to engulf her. She arched, feeling her body naturally rotate in slow, insistent circles. She was so close. So very, very close. "I want you."

The woman lifts her hands and moves Sasuke's head back upwards—to kiss him again, and to take control. Wrapping around his waist with one leg and using the other as leverage, she pins him to his back in the same position she herself was just in.

She can feel everything, now. There is something so empowering about feeling this close to another human. This safe. Sakura cannot wait a second longer.

There, on the floor of her hallway, Sakura gives herself to him.

Just in time for the front door to open.

Just in time for Sakura's mother to walk in on her naked daughter. On top. Of Sasuke Uchiha.

Oh, God no.