Title: we'll be alright this time
Summary: This is how Sasuke Uchiha falls in love.
Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.
Prompt: First Love
Rating: K
A/N: It's ssmonth guys sobs. I'm a lil late but it's ok.

It starts in the hospital, the first week into his return. Sasuke is bedridden, confined to a too-white room, still bruised in blacks and blues—but the worst of his wounds have healed for the most part, courtesy of Sakura's gentle healing hands.

Sakura.

She's here a lot, he realizes, as each day passes by; not just with him, but in the halls of the hospital and the adjacent rooms, too, treating tired shinobi wounded in war and still-frightened civilians trying to recover from it all. The smile to her lips never ceasing, she doesn't seem to miss out on any pressing matter, doesn't actually seem to leave these walls at all—and if Sasuke didn't so often catch her dozing in the armchair at his bedside, he might even think she never sleeps, either.

And yet, despite her busy schedule, Sakura always finds the time to offer him a visit every day.

Something in him softens at the thought.

"You're healing very well, Sasuke-kun," she says to him, one day, as time dictates it necessary to have his bandages changed yet again. "I'm actually pretty surprised. Are you sure you don't have a hidden tailed beast somewhere inside you helping to patch you up?"

The query is a teasing one—something that Sasuke has yet to grow used to, when it comes to Sakura. She'd always been so shy when it came to him, Sasuke remembers from their years before, so sweet and pure, and eager to impress him; whatever brashness she held inside had only ever been expressed with anger towards their blond best friend whenever he did something she didn't like—which was often. But the woman that stands here before him now is different, despite in some ways still being the same; kind, and bright, she smiles and jibes playful remarks, seemingly unafraid to make a fool of herself… or, perhaps, driven with a confidence that she can make him smile, too.

Sasuke honestly doesn't know what to say about that.

(she would probably find it charming, he thinks, if she were to find out that her newfound confidence renders him clueless, unsure—unbalanced by this new dynamic that he, in truth, doesn't quite find all that surprising.)

Thankfully, Sakura doesn't look as though she expected him to answer at all, and she merely smiles wider, eyes crinkling with a happiness that he still feels startled to see every time. Even now, all Sasuke can think about when Sakura looks at him are all the years of hurt he forced upon her; all the cold and careless words she had to hear… all the times he chose to break her heart for the sake of his selfish goals.

He still doesn't understand how she can be here at his side, right now, smiling so sweetly at him and with such earnest affection, loving him anyway.

"Any phantom pain today, Sasuke-kun?" she asks, then, her features sobering a little as she turns her attention to the stump of his arm and begins unwrapping the old bindings, eyes taking their medically critical edge. She doesn't seem unpleased by the state of his arm, at least, when she finally frees it from its confines. Sasuke takes it as a good sign.

"Some," he admits, watching as she wordlessly reaches to lightly palpate the skin. He only barely manages not to hiss when she presses on a particularly sore spot, sending him flinching.

Sakura's gaze flies up to him, apologetic. "Sorry. Is that still tender?"

He nods stiffly, and looks away.

A warm buzzing energy begins to flow through the stub of him, then, chasing away the ache, and Sasuke feels the tension in him slack, taken with the urge to sigh. It never fails to surprise him how soothing her chakra is—how much it always seems to do more than just chase the ache of his wounds.

"There," she says, when she deems her work satisfactory and begins wrapping up his arm with new dressings. He doesn't need to look at her to know she's smiling. "Better?"

He only nods again, and murmurs his thanks.

"Good! Let me know if it ever comes back again and becomes too bothersome, okay?" Leaning back straight, she reaches for the medical pad at his bedside and notes a few things down, before looking up to him once again. "And keep an eye on that swelling, too. It's normal that it hasn't completely gone down yet by now, but if it doesn't get better in the next few days, it would probably be safe to run some tests."

He gives a third, wordless nod, watches her smile, and keeps his silence as she bids him goodbye and finally turns to leave him by his lonesome once more.

A few long moments pass, where Sasuke remains still, and the sounds of the clock and tapping footsteps are the only things he hears. After a time, he eventually turns, and touches his newly bandaged stump, mismatched eyes softening at the memory of her warm chakra.

Despite everything that's changed, Sasuke thinks, mouth lifting lightly at a corner, Sakura still makes him feel much the same.

(if not more, even, now that his heart has opened its doors.)

.

.

Three weeks go by, and Sakura continues to visit him every day, sometimes only to change his bandages and question him on his recovery, but other times just to chat; and he doesn't mind to hear her talk, Sasuke finds, as more time passes by. She's a mature girl now—woman, he instantly corrects—and somehow even sweeter than she was in his memories, every trace of the at times bratty little teenager he knew now gone—filled instead with stories and accomplishments he'd honestly never thought he'd get to hear from.

(darkness was a lonely path, after all.)

Sakura's made a life for herself that she is proud of, that she worked hard for, that she strives in, and as she sits at his bedside and takes the time to share it with him, Sasuke realizes that it wouldn't bother him should he have to listen to her talk all day.

It feels good, somehow, to know that the lives of his ex-teammates hadn't halted the moment he'd decided to step out of them. It feels good to know they'd learned to laugh without him.

(It feels good to know that though they could have moved on, they loved him enough not to give up on him.)

.

.

A week later, the hospital discharges him, but the two of them somehow manage to find each other again.

"Sasuke-kun? Oh, hey!" he hears, prompting him to straighten and turn away from the street vendor's stand, blinking away his slight surprise. He didn't expect to find her here at this time.

"Sakura," he acknowledges, inclining his head.

The grin to her lips doesn't fade in the slightest as she takes the last few hurried steps to join him, and Sasuke also doesn't miss the flush of her cheeks, either, evidently too happy to see him. It's a sight he's grown used to, in these past few weeks, though still at times leaves him bemused, struck by her ease of forgiveness.

(something he could use to learn from her and Naruto, he muses.)

"Are you here to pick up some groceries, too?" she asks, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.

He shakes his head. "Just dinner," he corrects. "The council still hasn't gotten around to organizing what I'm owed from the rest of the Uchiha funds, yet. No use in spending money on much food if I don't have a place of my own."

Her eyes widen to this, and her mouth drops a little, evidently completely taken off guard. Sasuke simply shrugs in response to her transparently growing worry, and says, "It's not as bad as it sounds."

A frown crosses her lips. "That's still no way to treat you... they should have made arrangements to accommodate you at least. Where have you been living since you've been released from the hospital?"

"Hotels and inns, mostly." He shrugs again. "Sometimes Naruto's couch, if I don't feel like spending money, and his place isn't a complete hovel."

"Do you have any idea when they'll reach a decision?"

"The end of this week, they said."

Her frown deepens for a moment, seemingly mulling over something. And then, Sakura shakes her head and sighs, looking up to him with a smile, once more. "Well, I guess there's not much we can do to make this go quicker—but I'm not going to let you waste your money on take-out!" Snatching her hand out to his single wrist, she giggles and gives him a gentle, insistent tug, calling out, "Come on! I'll let you help me make dinner! I'll call Kakashi and Naruto over, too—and maybe even Sai! We'll have fun!"

And as she starts down the road, presumably towards her home, Sasuke merely sets his gaze at the back of her head and mutely follows along; feeling slightly amused, but most of all, rushing with that quiet warmth he still can't properly put a word on.

It is frighteningly easy, he thinks, to let himself be cared for.

.

.

They share dinner at least once a week after that, with or without the other half of their once broken team, and Sasuke finds that he quietly looks forward to every one, craving for the stirrings of these emotions he can't describe that seem to fill him every time. Whether the four of them, or the two instead, the meal and talk shared on these nights never fail to bring lightness to his heart, and affection to his soul; the feeling of being loved and wholly treasured becoming things Sasuke quickly realizes he still craved for, from the bottom of his heart.

(as he had, once upon a time.)

These dinners become his saving grace, in the times his past catches up to him too fast, trapping him in a world of pain and ghosts he still doesn't know how to properly chase away on his own. Naruto never tries to badger him, and Kakashi never prods, and Sakura—

Sakura goes out of her way to prepare something she knows he likes, urging the other two to help while she leaves him be to busy his mind with whatever other little tasks left to do.

(sometimes, she even chances a touch to his shoulder, his arm, his back—and it surprises him every time, how much the sensation seems to linger long after her touch has gone, how soft and comforting it all feels; how much he always seems to yearn for it to happen again.)

It takes a few months for him to fully catch on that he likes these nights alone with Sakura a little better.

Sasuke doesn't know what to make of that, but he begins to understand that his relationship with Sakura has rooted somewhere it never has with anyone else.

.

.

Luck allows their paths to cross once again, one too-early morning after that, but Sakura is astonishingly not the one who initiates their meeting, this time.

"Sakura," he says, his mind taking a slight, unexpected tumble at the sight of her. It takes a few seconds to recollect his thoughts, and he blinks. "You're up early."

In truth, he doesn't really know if her being awake right now actually means she's earlier than the usual, but since the past few months Sasuke has returned, he has never known Sakura to be up and about in these ungodly hours.

"Up?" she asks him, a tired grin slipping to her lips. She laughs a delightful little breathless sound that makes his heart stutter. "Sasuke-kun, I've been awake for the past thirty-three hours," she tells him, stretching her limbs out over her head. "I just got off my shift at the hospital, so now I'm going home and in my warm, comfy bed."

She yawns to this, and her tired grin becomes a little more crooked, evidently affected by her lack of energy. And despite the fact that she is a ninja, that this exhaustion is in a likelihood something of the norm with her busy schedule, that she has evidently managed to handle her own for years—Sasuke cannot help but to wonder to himself if she has enough energy to get herself home safe on her own.

The thought alone is what pushes him to forgo his early morning training, if only just for now, feet shifting until he faces the direction he's just come from. Her mouth parts with immediate comprehension, and he tilts his head indicatively in return.

"I'll walk you," he says, and feels something like satisfaction bubbling in his chest as her cheeks bloom with delight.

.

.

He begins to consider that maybe he has feelings for Sakura on the evening she falls asleep on her couch a mere hour after she's invited him in for tea.

Sasuke stares at her curled up form in thoughtful silence, lets his gaze run over the peaceful slumbering features of her face, and feels himself succumb to a slow wave of pure, earnest affection—one that has his throat closing up. Pushing himself to his feet, he moves and reaches for the blanket strewn about at her side, slipping it over her small form. The sigh she lets out then incites his gaze to soften and his hand to linger, shifting to ever so slightly touch her cheek as she burrows deeper into the couch.

Letting out a quiet sigh of his own, Sasuke muses that though he may have feelings for her, he can't take care of her as he is like this. He can't give her what she wants when he has not found atonement for his sins.

Perhaps leaving the village won't be any easier this time around either, he acquiesces.

.

.

The look on her face when he is forced to deny her request makes his chest tighten. He doesn't want her to be disappointed, doesn't want her to think that it has anything to do with what he thinks of her, so he reaches out and hopes to reassure her in the only way he can think of: by tapping two fingers to her forehead, in the same way his too-loved brother once used to do to him, and offering a smile.

The gesture holds a promise that he intends to keep; the promise to come back to her when he finally feels ready.

.

.

Though she is no longer at his side, Sakura continues to be with him throughout the roads and the cities and the nature he encounters in the form of cherry blossom trees, of sweet tasting apples, of ripe-red strawberries, and medical buildings.

It is a strange, but welcome comfort, Sasuke finds.

.

.

The whole of him rushes with tender warmth with every letter she sends, curling the slightest smile to his lips.

Though he never knows what to reply, he hopes Sakura understands the appreciation (and affection) he harbors for her, anyway.

.

.

The moment Sasuke realizes he is in love, he is sitting at quiet tea venue in a hidden little village, watching the world rouse with life in the streets that surround him; a young family comes to view, all smiles and laughs and radiating of exciting news, gushing at a small bundle in the woman's arms. A family heading home with a new addition to their household, Sasuke realizes, eyes soft as he wordlessly takes a sip of his favored matcha tea. He stares as he sees the newly-proud-again father pulling his wife close, pressing his lips to her temple sweetly, free hand reaching out to gently stroke his newborn child's face; stares as the woman turns her head and beams widely at her husband, whispering something tender and sweet.

Images of this moment flash to mind, but with different faces, and different streets: it's him kissing Sakura's temple in Konoha's streets, this time, and her that looks up to him with the most loving, shining smile, while a young dark haired child begs to hold its new sibling. It's a dream, it's a hope, it's a future that he realizes now that he truly desires—and with no one but her.

He knows, in that moment, what word to use to call this warmth that rushes over him, this feeling that makes his heart skip and stutter and race, this sensation that leaves him light and buzzing.

Sakura Haruno is his first love, and, he thinks (knows), also his last.

I hope this came out ok! I have awful writer's block rn so I wouldn't be surprised if this came out a little blotchy or not so smooth in flow. I honestly would have loved to make a much longer story out of this to go through everything really but it might have gotten redundant after a while tbh?

Anyway, happy ssmonth!

DeepPoeticGirl