Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto
Notes: Mamihlapinatapei- a look shared by two people, each wishing that the other will offer something that they both desire but are unwilling to suggest or offer themselves.
Originally posted on tumblr and written for sasori-no-akasuna
x.X.x
People usually believe Sunagakure to be a purely Spartan village whose interests lie solely on fighting and missions and conjuring new jutsus because of the kind of shinobi they produce. But anyone who has actually been to Suna would see that this is not the case. The village was heavily invested in the arts— glass art, painting, and most especially the theatre arts.
Look closely and it's plain to see how much they value the puppet theatre— the use of puppets in warfare and in battle, the standard black uniform for anyone using puppets (an elite team in themselves, separated from other jounin who wore beige instead), and even the ANBU Ops wore noh masks similar to those used in the theatre. But the appreciation and culture brought about by this permeated across all social classes, shinobi and civilian alike, in an annual mask festival Suna held on the eve of the autumn equinox.
There would be parades, a carnival, street dances, food set up on the side of the streets, a large bonfire, and, of course, a puppet play to close the night. Normally, people wore Noh masks specifically for the theatre but this year, someone suggested that they use half-masks in the Western tradition instead— half masks and everything that came with it.
So, that is how Karura found herself with her back to the wall, in a large hall she didn't know existed until then, wearing a dress that was too impractical in a place like Suna. At least the party was at night. My back would burn if I went out into the sun like this. She adjusted the shawl on her shoulders, looking around the large ballroom for a familiar face— but all she saw were masks. Glittering, porcelain, impersonal, and down right frightening masks.
Never in her life had she felt all alone in a sea of people.
Her husband told her that this was so that people can meet others that they wouldn't interact with otherwise. The masks would put down barriers of shinobi vs civilian and the different social classes of society. Or something like that— as if the dress they wore didn't already give away that they were part of the upper class. Yes, she would like to talk to more people, to meet more of them, to slip away into the crowd and be able to do things no one would fault her for because that was the point of this whole affair…but where to star—
"Karura."
She turned, recognizing the name before she saw the familiar red hair that framed his face, or that distinct sharp-edged smile, and the glassy brown eyes behind his black mask. She let out a sigh, relief washing over her— yes, a familiar face. A light laugh escaped her lips soon after. "Oh, it's you. I didn't think anyone would recognize anyone like this."
"Ah, but it's easy if you know what you're looking for."
Karura opened her mouth to say something— did she hear that right or was she simply reading too deeply into a single sentence? Was he looking for her specifically? But before the words could come out of her lips, Sasori gave a bow and extended his hand towards her— the sudden swell of music highlighting his intentions.
She placed her hand in his without much hesitation, despite the fact that she was not good with these social dances— more familiar with the folk dances that were playing on the streets at that moment. Maybe, she put in her hand too quickly because an electric jolt shot through her system and she could feel her body freeze at the contact and at the sound of the music. And her knees suddenly felt weak when he moved to lead her towards the dance floor, though it was towards a more secluded area as the middle of the hall was too crowded already.
The music grew louder as they positioned themselves, Karura putting in as much of a polite space in between them as she could with a smile on her face. She felt unsure of how to fit into the dark waltz that played but Sasori seemed so sure of his steps— she let him lead her into the dance, finally falling into the familiar three beats. Her head was slightly bowed, eyes on her feet to make sure that she didn't accidentally step on him.
Karura gave a small congratulatory laugh to herself— thinking that she was able to carry on with the dance by this point. That was, until she lifted her head and met his intense gaze. She forgot to step to the side.
But this time, he simply brought her a little closer, and that was all it took for her feet to fall back into the rhythm. Not once did she look away, couldn't tear her eyes off his. Not under that gaze. Not even when her heart beat loud enough to match the orchestra. Not even when she felt his hand lightly brush the small of her back, sending shivers to her spine. Not when the room seemed to light up when she was in his arms. No, not when her tongue burned with a million questions.
Why are you dancing with me? Why are you bringing me so close to you that your breath bushes my cheeks? Why do you smile at me like that and to no one else? What is… this? Why does my heart skip beats when I'm in your presence, when I see you from across the hall? Oh, goodness. What have you done with my head— my heart?
But in reality, the asking these questions were useless. Karura already knew the answers to most of them. Definitely not a simple attraction. Else, why would he invade her thoughts so often? Why would she want, not only to be in his presence, but also to talk to him, to watch him at work, to ask how his day was? And Karura could see the same look, the same burning questions, the same conclusions that reflected in his eyes.
But the bigger question— one that she couldn't answer, one that she didn't want to answer— remained.
…So what happens now?
Nothing but silence pervaded what little space was left between them. No answers. Just silence. And waiting.
And Karura remembered reading a book where she encountered this word— a word that perfectly described this heavy and loaded silence between them. Memihlapinatapei— from the language of a small village in Hi no Kuni. A meaningful look shared by two and the silence between them…a look and a wish, a desire they both share. A shared desire yet a reluctance to suggest it themselves. And so they wait.
And so the two of them wait. Karura waits for him because she has a family and her heart shatters at the thought of starting something that could end that. Sasori waits for her because he is a shinobi— loyal to his village, and to the Kazekage, and incidentally her husband.
They wait even as the music slows to a halt. Wait for a sign when most lovers in the dance floor would lean in and share a kiss— they don't because they're not lovers. They don't because they're still unsure of what they even are. Instead, they slowly step back, only noticing now how close they've gotten through the dance.
"Thank you for dancing with me," Karura said giving a small bow. And before Sasori could say anything, another person cut in and extended his hand towards her. Now, there was a hesitation before she reached out and placed her hand in the stranger's— because he wasn't the familiar face she wanted to dance with that night. A hesitation was all it took for Sasori to slip back into the crowd.
The question still lingered in the air between them, no matter how large or small the distance. It didn't dissipate for a long time, still as thick as ever when they chance to meet once more. The question still lingered.
So what happens now?