"But I couldn't help but
see
That you wore your broken heart out on your sleeve
And
your loneliness could not disguise
The beauty and the charm
Thought if I ever get you, shattered lady, in my arms…"
- Toby Keith "Rock You Baby"
He had seen her once, during his self induced exile, even before the brief 'reunion' of team seven. The scene had replayed millions of times in his mind over the years. Haunting him.
She had been curled up in a dark corner of the local inn's dining room. He had still been under Orochimaru's jurisdiction back then, somehow being picked as the best candidate for a mission in the Fire Country because of his 'knowledge of the landscape.'
Truthfully he was being tested; there were plenty of other Konoha missing-nins available, and they would all attract a lot less attention than him. The reason he was here was probably to test his loyalty. Orochimaru still didn't trust him at this point, and Sasuke had done nothing to try and gain his favor. In fact he openly opposed the Sannin on several occasions.
And did Orochimaru really think him that weak so that he could not sense the chakra of the two badly concealed spies trailing after him since he had entered Fire's borders? No. It was an open threat, should he try to return to his former village.
He had to repress a bitter laugh at that thought. Konoha hated him then, as it hates him now. There will probably never be a time when he'll be able to return freely, and even then it would not be the same.
With the threat of rain and impending darkness, he had entered the small inn, hoping to get some information about his target and then slip out, unnoticed. He had first seen her as he had scanned the dinning hall for a potential informant. Well, he hadn't seen her, but a reclusive looking creature sitting, shadows dancing on smooth pale skin as she poked at her food. And strange urge, maybe instinct, told him that he should go to her.
He had stridden over to her and sat in the only other chair before she could even respond, though once she did exhaustion was evident throughout her entire body. They had sat in silence at first, disrupted only by a server who had silently approached them and asked Sasuke if he wanted anything.
"Tomato juice" he had responded automatically, puzzled when his works elicited a nostalgic smirk from behind the curtain of brown hair across the table. Opting for resting her head on her fist instead of pointlessly rearranging the long-cold food, she looked up at him.
Pained green eyes glinting in the dim light, she spoke softly, "You remind me of someone I knew not too long ago… he had the same self-assured air as you do. And he liked tomatoes too, a bit obsessed with them if you ask me."
At this point his drink had arrived, but it remained untouched in front of him.
"He left me though, he left everyone he had ever known. For a madman." She continued on once she realized he had no intention of stopping her. "And it's not like he let us go gently. He just walked out. But then again that was to be expected, he always did love to do things the hard and painful way."
By now Sasuke had gotten the hint, and he was pretty damned sure she knew who he was despite the genjutsu. She had always been better at sensing them.
Yet they kept the false pretenses up, perhaps waiting to see which would crack first.
"I must say, the way he left me was particularly harsh. I tried everything to keep him close; declared my feelings, even said that I'd follow him! But all he did was knock me out with a 'thank you' and leave me, vulnerable as ever, on a cold stone bench." She continued, a strange tilt entering her voice.
Anger perhaps, or dejection.
"I believe he did the right thing. I doubt you would have been happy wherever he went." Sasuke said, his voice never betraying his involvement.
"I can't say I agree with your first statement, he could at least have let me down a little gentler. But I guess the bench method fits him, since being around him was kind of like having a pet rock. A good weapon, but you still have to deceive yourself into believing its good company." She said, a smile gracing her face as she looked up into his eyes, her green ones twinkling with and undecipherable emotion. "He had about the same response rate as a rock too."
"And though I probably wouldn't have been happy there, I'm not quite ecstatic here either. For a large part of my life, my happiness has been dependent on him." She said, looking back down at the table, eyes shielded behind that offensive veil of brown. "All I wanted was for him to acknowledge me and, if possible, for him to love me back. I now know that it will never happen, and it's not a comforting thought."
"Have you ever thought what you would do if you saw him again?" Sasuke asked on impulse, just to drown himself in irony.
"Sometimes I do... My initial reaction would probably be to freeze in shock; it's not that often that you meet a long-lost bastard." He had stiffened as she called him that, realizing once more that things would never be the same.
"Thinking about it now, I'd really like to put him in my situation. But that'd be a little hard… he's hard to control emotionally, you see? But I'll settle for bashing his face in and giving him a decade long lecture, with a good beating every hour or so. Konoha probably would encourage the last one, with as much physical violence possible. They hate him nearly as much as I do." Her rant was curt short by a powerful yawn, and she stretched her arms out over her head, ruining the effect of her words until he would have time to pick them apart.
"I guess I'm going to bed then," she said as she got up and took out a numbered key from her pocket. "I hope you remember this little discussion next time you break someone's heart."
She then disappeared up the staircase, leaving Sasuke alone to drink his lukewarm tomato juice and, he later realized as the waiter carefully approached him with the tab, pay for her barely touched meal.
He had not gotten any information that night, nor would he for many nights still. But he did remember their discussion for very long… it practically haunted him.
Years later, he would see her again, frozen in shock at his change… just like she had predicted. And he would wonder to himself, always to himself, if one day he could fix the giant mess he had made for himself.
Because, quite frankly, a clan of one is not a force to be reckoned with. And he had long ago come to terms with his ancestors being born with pink tufts of hair.