I don't own Naruto, but it means a lot to me.


Sasuke didn't agree to checkups. Uchiha Sasuke didn't agree to much of anything, to be fair. Agreeing was a distinctly non-Uchiha trait, and the modern scion of the famed clan was nothing if not the embodiment of his predecessor's mannerism.

Physically, he would accept only post-mission inspections. Sakura had seen the reports from these brief inspections. It defied logic, but for all the cataclysmic damage the Uchiha had put his body through, over the years, Sasuke's body remained shockingly durable. Whether Sussano's protection or just yet another Uchiha perk, the most gifted shinobi of a generation had also managed to somehow survive the physical deterioration of the shinobi lifestyle.

But that was physically. And Sakura knew her husband.

Sasuke didn't need a surgeon. Uchiha Sasuke needed a therapist.

"No." Had been the response when they had been dating. After the marriage, Sakura was infuriated to learn the answer was still no.

The ensuing argument threatened to leave craters in the city street, and the two had agreed upon at least a small compromise to one of the most therapeutic activities Sasuke regularly engaged in — sparing.

To be more precise, sparing with Naruto. To be even more precise, the weekly appointment for the two idiots to beat the stupid out of each other. The compromise stipulated that she got to be on standby when they chose to have a "light spar". Light, of course, being a very, very extraordinarily generous word to describe what took place.

Demi-gods didn't do anything 'lightly', least of all hand-to-hand combat. Even with restraint, Naruto's haymakers hit like freight trains on rocket rails. Sasuke's sword cut through stone and tree with the same ease as though through blades of grass. It was violent and fast and very emphatically not proper therapy, but it was a step, at least. Sakura arrives at the training ground without a word, settling into a rolled-out blanket and setting down a wicker basket.

Naruto squints, his eyes narrowing from across the field.

"Did you..." he asks, voice reflecting the confusion on his face. "Bring a picnic basket to our fight?"

"Yes."

"…why?"

Sakura levels an annoyed glance at the 50 questions.

"Because I get hungry watching you two act like Neanderthals, and I wanted to bring myself a board."

"A board?"

" A cheese board, actually."

Naruto blinks a few times, processing this new information.

"A...cheeseboard?"

"Yep." She answers, pulling through her basket in a flurry of show and tell offerings. "Cheese, grapes - I've even got a little bit of wine."

Naruto considers this information deeply, before turning back to his opponent.

"Did you know about this?" He asks. The Uchiha shrugs, rolling his shoulder to accentuate the apathy in his gaze.

"I am her husband, not her parent." He responds. "How she chooses to view our training is none of my concern."

The sound is muffled by the grapes in her mouth, but both men hear "Your damn right!" from the sidelines.

"I mean, I get that." Naruto continues, clearly only partially understanding the situation. "But doesn't it feel…patronizing?"

Sasuke shifted his feet, leaning back into a loose stance.

"If you feel performance anxiety in front of an audience, that is your problem."

Naruto hisses through his teeth, his neck rolling and cracking. His confusion flushed away by the burning desire to punch Uchiha ribs out of their proper place.

"Alright. Whatever. Fist time."

There's not even a signal anymore - no theatrics, no grandstanding. Both combatants just seem to…blur. As though reality weren't 100% certain they were even there in the first place. Sakura is one of the most powerful shinobi on the planet, and even she has to stop eating to focus and keep up.

Naruto's sweeping leg kick is parried by Sasuke's shin. The Uchiha twists his spine and repays with two quick jabs that could cut stone into Naruto's rib cage. If it hurts (Sakura knows it does), Naruto gives no indication. With a toothy grin, he crunches Sasuke's extended arm between underneath his arm and slams his head into the Uchiha's like a bull.

"Hey, hey hey!" Sakura yells. Both combatants skid apart and turn her direction. Both are bleeding and bruised, and Sasuke's face is twisted with absolute concentration. Naruto is grinning like a maniac.

"No head trauma." The medic snaps. "Neither of you are emotionally stable enough for CTE."

"But you always say I'm hardheaded!" Naruto counters. "Why can't I use that as a weapon against my enemy?"

"I said no."

Naruto's pout doesn't match the suffocating pressure barely restrained in his presence, but a piercing jab from Sasuke brings the combat back to life. It's funny, honestly, but no matter how many times she watches this, she still just sees two little brats. Screaming about promises and power and punching each other until they can't stand anymore.

All at once, it felt like a moment and a lifetime ago.

Back when Naruto didn't know the proper way to stand to protect his left side and Sasuke was too arrogant to learn how to properly avoid a grapple. Just tiny little fists on tiny little boys, fighting as the world around them grew bigger and bigger.

They didn't look like that, anymore.

Watching them now was more like watching hurricanes fight volcanos. Unspeakable forces of nature colliding.

Sasuke ducks, narrowly dodging a punch that could have ruptured steel. From his crouch, his sword is leveled, pointing it directly into his opponent's gut.

"Yield, dobe." He orders. Naruto only gives a low chuckle.

"Oh, teme." He chides. "You think a little butter knife is going to stop me?"

Sasuke's eyes widen as Naruto throws his torso forward, flinging himself onto the Uchiha's blade with a wet squelch. In his opponent's momentary shock, Naruto twists his body to the left. The sword, still embedded through his intestines, is yanked from the Uchiha's hands in a mix of blood and guts and utter shock.

Sasuke leaps back to the defensive, but his eyes are whirling. Naruto laughs, giving a small grimace as he yanks the blade from his chest. The sharingan sees all but seeing the speed at which Naruto's innards were returning from being outside his body was another thing entirely. Tan skin crackles as tendrils of flesh and nerve stretch and re-attach themselves. Moments later, the wound is completely gone. The only remnants it was ever there are the lingering red stains around the incision. That and the image being burned into the photographic memory of the last Uchiha.

"Naruto." Sasuke's mind reels, not even the strength for insults. Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong. There were few people on earth who knew Naruto's healing factor as intimately as Sauske — one of the repercussions of punching more than one hole into his teammate over the years — but this was beyond anything he's ever seen. The times where Naruto's healing was fast enough to be witnessed in battle, it was ultra-catalyzed by whole tails of bijuu chakra or the toads of Mount Myonkobu. But here? In a sparring match with just taijutsu? Sasuke's frown deepened.

"What is going—?"

His question, however, is interrupted by a pink blur that surges across the field and crashes into the Hokage like a meteor. There's a thunderous boom as a skid mark of earth and rock and tree gives way to the crater a grumbling Naruto is now embedded in.

"You little shit!" Sakura rages. "Did I not just fucking tell you this was a light spar?!"

From the crater, a whine.

"This is light!" Naruto counters. "I had to get that sword off him!"

"Nope." she denies, entertaining no dissent. "This match is over. You forfeit. Sasuke wins."

"What?" The Hokage rages, the petulant child that he once was. "That's bullshit!"

"Learn to deal." His medic answers, voice more acid than sound as she storms to her half-eaten picnic and rounds on her husband.

"We'll be finishing this at home, Sasuke." She informs, and Sasuke only nods without a word. Though the blond continues to protest, he eventually makes his way off, muttering something about "Hinata's more fun than teme, anyway" under his breath as he storms off.

Sasuke follows his wife without a word as they return to the Uchiha compound. The plans to finish the basket are all but forgotten as Sakura shuts herself into her study the moment they arrive back at the compound. It isn't until long after nightfall as they lay in bed that Sakura rejoins her husband. Even as she climbs in bed, her eyes and attention remain buried in the notes furiously scribbled across her pages.

"Sakura." He says. His wife doesn't look up past her reading glasses.

"Hmm?"

"What." He begins, searching for the right way to address the very confusing situation. It isn't often that he's at a loss for words, much less feeling left in the dark.

"What happened today?"

There's a long pause before Sakura even acknowledges that she's heard the question, but she eventually lowers her notepad and answers.

"About what?" She asks. "About your spar?"

"Do not play coy." He replies, voice steeling. "You know what I am talking about."

Sakura raises an eyebrow at the tone, and Sasuke is filled with the sudden urge to not speak to his wife that way. The pinkette, however, is the first to break, answering his question first with a resigned sigh.

"What do you want to ask about today." She whispers. "Specifically."

There were many answers to that question, and Sasuke sits silently because he's not sure there's a right one.

He could have asked her what the hell had happened.

What. What was that? What the hell was the blond trying to pull? What was going on and what had he not been told.

There was just one problem — 'what' wasn't the question that weighed on his mind.

"Why," he says, "Why were you not concerned when Naruto…" He trails off, not sure the best words to describe his teammate and best friend flinging his bowels onto a blade with the same nonchalance as a needle prick.

For a moment, Sasuke watches as his wife stares the distance of their bedroom. They're both getting older, and there's bags under her eyes, now. Wrinkles between where her smiles usually went, but there's a tiredness to it. Her green eyes, however, are as beautiful as he remembers in his dreams. But as she stares into the distance, unblinking and unaware of any world outside their vision, he can't help but think they look darker.

"It's late." She says, rolling onto her side and kissing him goodnight. "You should rest."

It's the first time she doesn't answer his question, and the sinking feeling that fills his stomach feels like acid and shame. This is what it must have felt like, every time he would turn his own back in silence to her. Those moments where she would call out to him, when he was young and foolish and filled with nothing but hatred. She'd ask him, desperately, 'why'. Why. Why. So many times. So many tears. And he'd just turned, like rolling over, and walked away.

His stomach twists into a knot, and he tosses in the bed. Sakura is warm, and he presses his body against hers. She doesn't shy away, but he clings. There's a gap, no matter how close he squeezes, but if Sakura minds the contact, she never indicates. He doesn't leave her side the whole night, and his relief only comes the next morning, when she's still right next to him.

Out of bed and preparing for the day, the couple are silent as they prepare for work. An anomaly, it is Sasuke who breaks this silence.

"Sakura-chan." He says. She stiffens at the affection.

"Sasuke?"

In a moment, the last Uchiha is across the room, holding his wife at arms length by both shoulders. His eyes stare desperate into her own. A hunger? A fear? Sakura can't tell, but it sets her skin ablaze.

"Tomorrow. I would like to talk to you." He says. She blinks.

"To…talk?" She answers, confused. "Talk about what? Last night?" Sasuke shakes his head.

"No." He says, and his eyes seem to cool and settle on hers with a weight. "To talk about me."

"You?" Sakura whispers, before her eyes shoot open in realization. "Oh! You." She nods, running a hand across his cheeks with a warmth that fills his soul.

"We absolutely can talk about you. Whatever you're willing to share."

Sasuke doesn't answer, he just learns in and kisses her.


I wrote this chapter as an excuse to do a little bit of fighting. I really want to get better writing combat.

- Free Drinks