Take My Hand But Leave My Heart
Chapter 4
.
.
A Year and a Half Ago...
When Sasuke submitted himself to Konohan authority, he viewed it as a temporary measure- a stepping stone. It was a hoop he had to jump through in order to eventually be a part of Itachi's dream: a peaceful world.
He spent three months in the holding cells of Torture and Interrogation, waiting for his trial. He was allowed no visitors and lived in a 8x7 cell, so there weren't a lot of options for training.
Sasuke keeps time as best he can. There is no window in his cell, so he can't see the sun. He decides that the guard changes at 8am, 4pm and midnight. (Afterwards he'll learn that this was incorrect, the postings are not so regular. But he'll suppose it doesn't matter in the end).
He usually wakes up a while before the 8am change. Years of having his internal clock set to dawn leaves him with the habit. At first he'll lay there, thinking until everything becomes too big, too tremendous for him to think about anymore. It's usually the bad things that find him in the morning. They force him from his cot and set him to expel the excess energy and the drive with no direction.
He does one-handed pushups and when that isn't enough he holds a handstand for as long as he can.
It isn't for long. While this was not an uncommon part of his warmup before, he hasn't yet recalibrated his centre of balance. When he paces the cell, he notices that his gait is off as well. One wouldn't think that thirty pounds would make such a difference, but it does.
By the time he's finished warming up, it's around 9am.
It's then that he pulls out the only thing in his cell other than clothes (and a bed, sink and toilet). He has it memorized by the third day, but it still softens his expression when he looks at it.
It's a list of exercises to help him with his arm. Sakura's handwriting is as neat as she can make it, but it's still the messy scrawl of a doctor. She also drew a stick figure version of him to illustrate what she could not describe. Stick-figure-Sasuke's hair spikes up in the back and he has an unnecessary frowny face.
He goes through the exercises; a combination of physio for the raw tendons and muscles, and kata that improve chakra flow and encourage faster healing.
It's a soothing practice. It's the best part of his day. Concentrating on the kata clears his mind for a while. For three hours Sasuke can think about nothing but healing and the determined kindness of his friends.
He first thought of Sakura and Naruto as his friends again shortly before the fight with Kaguya. He became comfortable with it when they followed him as deep into the prison as they were allowed (and a good deal farther than that. There are few people in this world who can stand up to the combined onslaught of Sakura and Naruto's passion).
When he thinks of them, he thinks of them as they are now. He cannot think of their childhood selves without regrets. It starts with wondering what could have been and only leads to depression. Instead, he plans for a future in which he can stand beside them again, without shame.
He is determined to accomplish that.
So he does his exercises and he thinks about his life.
With the next change of the guard comes lunch. Always a healthy portion, usually simple.
Once a week, Yamanaka has guard duty. She smuggles something extra almost every time, while dutifully assuring him that if it were up to her, he would starve. But then Naruto and Sakura might be sad.
He assumes the apples and tomatoes come from them. He'd be surprised to learn that they come from Kakashi.
When Ino is on guard he talks to her. Sort of. He has to clear his throat often, his voice wavers with disuse. He spends most of the conversation listening.
As a child Sasuke wasn't quiet. He babbled like any kid. Itachi and his mother were good listeners. Itachi took after their father. He was a naturally reserved man. But Sasuke took after his mother in more than looks. Family dinners were mostly silent affairs but when the mood took her, Mikoto could keep up with anyone. She could have had a future in interrogation. Her tireless interest in the minutia of everyone's days was what he remembered best about her.
After the massacre there was no one to ask the right questions. And no one to listen.
His time with Team 7 was loud. Kakashi loved his monologues, Naruto would shout his ideals at anyone and everyone. Sakura never shut up. And Sasuke would yell too. He's loudly put down Naruto, he'd make his own declarations of vengeance, power and arrogance. Occasionally, one of them would ask the right questions.
Once or twice, Sasuke did.
When he was with Orochimaru, he was unsafe. Everything was a test. Every moment; a trial. Every word he said was a calculated risk. For three years he kept himself from exposing any weakness, even accidentally.
Taka made him forget sometimes. What's worse, they made him remember.
During the war, he did quite a lot of talking about all the wrong things. And never listened.
Sasuke knows better now.
So he talks to Ino. He listens to the minutia of her day. It keeps him just a little more sane.
Apropos of nothing, Ino cautions him against hope. "I can't let them in to see you. I would if I could."
"Aa."
"No really, I can't."
"I didn't ask you to."
Ino seems skeptical. She must wonder why he talks to her at all. He's never had any interest in her, and hers has waned with age. As if in apology, she tells him all about Kakashi, Naruto and Sakura and how they're working on rebuilding. The Rookie Nine, who might have been his friends in another life, feature heavily. She doesn't talk about the past. He's glad of it, he can't decide if he wants to know. Ino answers the right questions without being asked.
The rest of his day is spent in meditation. This is a self-imposed sentence.
Sasuke wants a future but knows very little about what that would consist of. He needs to figure that out.
.
.
When Sasuke's trial is over, he stays with Naruto. The Uchiha district was razed in one of the many attacks on the village, his old apartment was leased long ago. There's a tatami mat in Naruto's living room that definitely doesn't belong to him.
Sakura comes over almost every day. Kakashi occasionally joins them for meals.
With each passing day, his resolve solidifies.
He cannot stay.
.
.
Naruto understands. He didn't always, but this time he does.
They bump fists and both of them know this is not an ending. They'll see each other again. This is not an exile. It's a quest.
"I'll be back," he tells him unnecessarily, just because he feels like Naruto would appreciate a spoken promise.
"Yeah yeah," but Naruto's smile is brilliant.
He's still learning.
.
.
The question isn't whether or not he loves them; though he can see it in Sakura's eyes.
He loves them enough to change. He can be the man they deserve.
That's not her problem. Sakura has her own life to work on, her own legacy to build. And this is about him. He needs this. He needs to find redemption.
The Uchiha name is heavy on his shoulders, but his back is bare. Until he can decide what the future of his clan will be, he will not wear its colours.
He pokes her seal and gives her the soft promise of another time.
.
.
He writes while he's away. Not often, and certainly not in great enough detail to satisfy such enthusiastic correspondents as Sakura and Naruto. However, with the same surety as in his gait, he knows that any word at all makes them very happy.
He wonders if Kakashi is surprised to receive letters from him.
He hardly gets anything back from his sensei. He's far too busy and his responses are often in messy, rushed scrawl.
His correspondence with Sakura is a slow process of meeting. He doesn't know the woman she has become. Of everyone, she's changed so much. He gets to know her in her own words.
Naruto is an excellent writer. He manages to make him laugh out loud exactly twice and he can never know.
.
.
Sakura has a lot of love to give. It is… unfair to expect her to be alone forever. The war is over. They're living in peace time now. Slowly, their friends and age mates pair off. It's the natural progression of things.
She writes to him all the time, but one letter is different.
Sasuke,
There. Right off the bat. I shouldn't call you Sasuke-kun anymore, we've long outgrown that.
He imagines her hesitating over the page here; wringing her hands and searching for words.
I hope you're well. I want you to know that I think about you every day, though I'm sure that's not what you want to hear. I don't say it to guilt you or make you feel like I want something in return. I know better than that.
I can't help picturing you, wherever you are. I have this image in my head, of you sitting between the tree roots, reading my letters by firelight. Every time you reply, I know you've thought of me.
Is it silly, how giddy that makes me? I don't really care.
Except that I do care. A little.
She goes on to tell him that she loves him and it's nothing that he did, but she can't spend her life waiting anymore.
He folds that letter up and tucks it into his pocket. He takes it out every day and rereads it, searching for an answer that will satisfy her. But what could he say?
I love you too? He does and he doesn't. He loves her, but not the way she wants or deserves.
Sakura has so much love to give and deserves someone of equal depths. Sasuke's heart is chained up in contrition. His life is busy with the work of redemption. He does not know where the end of that road lies because there is no end in sight.
The selfish part of him clamors for him to write a reply.
Wait for me just a while longer.
But for what purpose?
This is mostly an exercise in letting go, for me. There was never a promise between us, despite what I always hoped. I'm sure you knew, at least I hope this didn't come completely out of left field. I just wanted to finally tell you properly, even if it's not in the most ideal way.
Please be safe while you're out there doing good.
She signed it All my love, Sakura.
It's so much, the love she has. It's everything. The simplicity of the closing of her letter strikes him.
If it were going to be anyone, it would be her. But he's not ready and sometimes people's lives don't align just so, at the right moments.
He labors over the right words. Should he cut her loose and end her pain. He could be the enemy of her hope and keep her from further heartache. Or is hope what will save them both. His reply will determine the course of both their futures forever. Is there a promise that he could make, that he can keep?
He writes a dozen replies and sends none. Weeks go by.
As she always does, Sakura makes the hard choice that saves him the trouble. Another letter:
Sasuke,
Hope you're well and that you received the package of salve I asked Kakashi to include in his letter.
He did. It is the only indication she ever gives of avoiding writing.
I have news!
She goes on to tell him that Kakashi just appointed her as a delegate on an ambassadorial mission to Suna, where she'll be participating in treaty talks with the five nations. She talks about her friends, her day and everything is normal.
It seems that Sakura took his silence for complaisance and agreement. She never mentions the confession again.
Letters still arrive regularly and Sasuke, with a keen eye for detail and a newer knowledge of the writer, starts to see a change.
She writes around the things she doesn't want to tell him. There are gaps in her accounts of her days. Sasuke wonders who the lucky man is while his stomach twists at the thought. He's likely someone kind, who treats her well and most importantly is present. This man, whoever he is, can be with her. Which is more than Sasuke has ever been able to claim.
It's not jealousy. It's the keen feeling of regret, Sasuke's most familiar companion on his travels.
a/n: As always, love to hear what you all think! Especially of my idea of Sasuke's time on his own (and his unlikely 'friendship'/toleration of Ino).
-Fi
