Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.
Rise
Chapter 13
Over the months since Sasuke returned to the village it's become easy to ignore the nightmares that haunt him in his sleep. It's become easy to pretend like the memories of the past don't still terrify him more than he likes to admit.
The sense of peace he's found seems so concrete, so absolute at times. But then one nightmare, one single instance of remembering the horrors he committed sends him spiraling backward.
Everyone around him seems to have forgiven him for the past. Why, then, is it so goddamn difficult to forgive himself?
"Sasuke-kun?" Sakura's voice, light and inquisitive, draws his attention.
Meeting her curious gaze, Sasuke realizes that he's been staring at her for quite some time. It's a Sunday afternoon, and clouds hang low in the sky, casting the outside world in dreary shades of grey. Sasuke returned from a mission earlier that morning and, after wandering around his apartment aimlessly, invited himself over to Sakura's.
Looking at him now, she puts down her medical textbook and turns to face him fully on the couch beside him, knees drawn to her chest.
The tenderness in Sakura's eyes, he thinks, contrasts so sharply with the fear they held when he drove his chidori at her, fully intending to end her life.
The thought has his throat tightening almost to the point of pain. Nausea sweeps over him in an unwelcome wave, and he attempts to avert his eyes before she can see the torment that's surely brewing in them, but of course there's not much he can hide from her.
Sakura reaches forward and touches her hand to his forearm. "Is everything all right, Sasuke-kun?" she asks softly.
And despite the months of peace and happiness he's enjoyed since he returned, he can sense himself beginning to fall. It's times like this—fewer and farther between but still very much so real—that he wants nothing more than to scream, to curl upon himself and let needles of self-loathing and regret pierce into him until he's numb from the pain.
Sasuke pulls away from her, trying not to see the concern flashing in her eyes. He puts his own book away and turns to lie down on the couch. For a moment he considers leaving to deal with his demons in the isolation of his apartment—it would be easier—but knows Sakura would grow even more worried if he just walked away.
"I'm tired," he replies quietly. He hopes she can't hear the battle raging inside him in the tone of his voice, though it's wishful thinking at best. This isn't the first time she's taken notice of his usually carefully guarded thoughts, nor is it the first time he's pushed her away as a result.
And he's certain it won't be the last. Because even though it's something he can barely admit to himself, much less to others, he is afraid—thoroughly, suffocatingly afraid. Forever afraid of opening up to Sakura only for her to be sickened by what she sees, or better yet for her to look at him again like she did that day on the bridge—terrified and heartbroken, and all because of him. All because of the monster he became.
Deep down, Sasuke knows that he's in the wrong. He knows he's being irrational. Because underneath the protective shell he painstakingly built around himself for so many years and that in part still stubbornly remains despite all Naruto did to break it down, there's nothing he longs for more than to open up to her. He craves to lay himself completely bare to her—tainted past, bloody nightmares and all. Wants to fall to her knees and beg for the forgiveness she's already given him a thousand-fold in hopes that it'll somehow convince him to forgive himself.
It is one thing, however, to want to explain himself to her. It is another thing entirely to actually do it. After all, letting others in is something he's always failed to learn how to do, time and time again.
And out of every person he's hurt before, Sakura is the last one who deserves to have to deal with him when he's on the verge of shattering. She's already seen enough, experienced enough, been put through a lifetime's worth of suffering at his hand. Sasuke knows she would do anything in her power to help him despite all that he's done to her—but he wouldn't be able to live with himself if he somehow hurt her again.
He can barely live with himself as it is.
So Sasuke closes his eyes, drawing further into himself, because if there's one thing he's mastered over the years, it's pushing away the people who care about him most.
Sakura remains silent, and it's not until he's half-asleep some time later that he feels a blanket being thrown carefully over him, her fingertips brushing lightly against his cheek.
"I'm here for you if you need me, Sasuke-kun," she whispers.
Her words follow him into sleep, chasing away the nightmares that haunt him.
If only they would stay away for good.
A/N: My apologies for the short chapter! Even though it's short, I hope you enjoyed this little insight into Sasuke's mind. Writing from Sasuke's point of view for this story has been my greatest challenge yet as putting myself into the shoes of someone with such a horribly traumatic past and actually exploring the afteraffects of it is not an easy thing to do. But even though it's difficult, Sasuke's ability to overcome his struggles and learn to love again is what makes him one of my favorite fictional characters, and it's also why I don't want to gloss over his trauma.
Thank you 1000x over to everyone who reviewed the last chapter! You truly bring the biggest smile to my face whenever I read your comments. :)
With love,
Shannon