Chapter Ten
As is typical, the second stage of the chunin exams is a survival test. Three-man teams are split up and released one by one into a densely wooded training ground that Sakura can't help but notice is not unlike the Forest of Death. Izumi and Hachiro fight their way to the central fort within the allotted time, but Saito fails to arrive there within twelve hours. And so two of her genin are cleared to compete in the final tournament.
This year, the Kiri proctors give the participating shinobi three weeks to prepare for their matches. Sakura spends most of her days training Izumi, Hachiro, and Saito, teaching new jutsu and drilling them on old techniques until they are executed perfectly.
"Why do I have to do this?" Saito asks. "I didn't even pass the second test."
Today they are learning nature type ninjutsu. Wind for Hachiro, fire for Izumi, water for Saito.
"You're a good shinobi, and you know it," Sakura says. "But you expected to win on talent alone and you got lazy preparing for these exams. You need to practice harder than ever so you can pass next time."
"If I do a good job, will you teach me how to fight like you do?" he asks.
Sakura smiles. "If you master this jutsu, I promise I'll start training you in chakra-increased strength as soon as we get back to Konoha." She claps him on the shoulder, and Saito nods.
Izumi takes to her new fire ninjutsu with ease and great capability. Saito does nearly as well with the water whip Sakura teaches him. Hachiro struggles with his elemental technique, but he practices for hours after his teammates abandon the training ground, and by mid-afternoon he's mastered the whirlwind.
Sakura escorts her student back to the ryokan, and as they walk, Hachiro asks, "Do you think Okaasan will be proud of me for making it to the final tournament? Even if I don't get promoted?"
Sakura wants to tell Hachiro his mother will appreciate his accomplishments no matter what. She wants to say this, but the truth is that Hyuuga Suzuki is a difficult woman to please, and if her son fails his chunin exams she will be disappointed in him.
"Don't worry about what your mother thinks," Sakura says. "What matters is that you have pride in yourself."
This is a lesson she had to learn. It took time, but Sakura realized she didn't need approval or acknowledgement from her sensei, shishou, or parents. Not even from the boy she loved. To be a strong shinobi, she had to believe in her own abilities.
Hachiro bows his head so miserably that she knows her words are falling on deaf ears. When they reach the inn, Sakura praises Hachiro on his hard work today, then heads to the fourth floor.
On the way up the narrow staircase, she nearly runs right into Sasuke.
"Sorry," Sakura says, and she can feel the flush rising in her cheeks. It's been over two weeks since they made love on the ship. Whatever desire possessed him to have her in her cabin that night, she doesn't know, and it hasn't resurfaced since then. Sasuke treats her with cool reserve, a contrived distance. He barely interacts with her even when Team 7 reunites to share a meal or tour Kiri. Sakura doesn't know if this is simply his way of avoiding their peers' suspicions, or if something is wrong.
Now she steps to the side so that Sasuke can get by. He walks past her without saying a word, but at the last moment Sakura reaches out and catches his hand. Entwines her fingers with his, like they've done countless times since his birthday.
Sasuke looks at her. Right eye dark and familiar, left eye awake with the ringed rinnegan that she'll never get used to. "What?" he asks.
Sakura has spent her afternoons and evenings wandering Kiri. Finding bars, restaurants, and vendors to frequent throughout her stay in the Mist. And if she looked at inns, hostels, and hotels, she supposes that speaks to a certain weakness she can't seem to overcome.
"There's a minshuku on the east edge of the village," she says. "It's on Yagami Street, between a weapons shop and a library, and the roof is painted blue."
Sasuke frowns and asks, "Why are you telling me this?"
He's so close. Close enough to kiss.
"Because I want you to meet me there tonight," Sakura says.
He squeezes her hand, hard, but not painfully so. "We agreed not to see each other while we were here," he says evenly.
"We did. But I miss you." She steps nearer, until their bodies are touching and she can kiss his neck. This is stupid, public, anyone could see, but Sakura can't manage to care. She whispers in Sasuke's ear all the things she will do for him if he meets her at midnight.
"Sakura," he says, and his voice sounds harsh but needy. A warning and a plea tangled together.
"Don't you want me, Sasuke-kun?" She leans back against the wall, and she can just see the picture she's making: pink hair tousled from work with her genin, eyes heavy-lidded, legs and lips slightly parted, inviting. "Because you can have me if you do."
He wants to kiss her, wants to fuck her, she can see it in his expression, suddenly heated and hungry.
Sasuke lets go of her hand with practiced ease and says, "Fine. Midnight, then."
Sasuke leaves the ryokan at five minutes to twelve. Later than he ought to have set out, because he spent the last hour debating whether or not to meet Sakura at all. They decided to spend this time apart, and things have become complicated enough without adding a midnight rendezvous.
Over the last two weeks he has built a deliberate wall of silence between himself and Sakura. And when she breaks through he gives only curt responses. Not angry or resentful, merely concise and colorless. The kind of words you would speak to a stranger instead of a lover. He knows—has known for a long time, if he's honest—that he wants more from her than just sex. He tried to tell himself that if he fucked her then that would satisfy him. It would be enough. Now he understands how foolish that was. How ignorant, because he hadn't yet learned the subtle curve of her hip and the slope of her breast, the beauty nestled in the valley between her shoulder blades. Sakura has educated him in the practice of making love, and far from satisfying him, it has only made him want more. More of her time, more of her affection. Things Sakura would willingly give—if he asked for them.
He can imagine what might happen if he told her the truth. They would start seeing one another openly, for all of Konoha to witness. Dinners become dates, and Sakura embeds herself deeper into his life. Comes home to him every day, sleeps in his bed, wears his clothes, until her things start to appear in his apartment. Not so different from what they're doing now, really, except that there would be expectations and rules, and Sasuke isn't ready for the responsibility of being a partner.
As a boy he lived his life with a purity of purpose; everything came back to vengeance. Then after the war, he dedicated himself to Itachi's dream, to protecting Konoha. Sasuke has always been self-centered, forever making the choices that best served his ambitions. He doesn't know how to be any other way. And the part of him that could love without reservation died with his clan.
While he's working these things out, he should stay away from Sakura. Her presence muddles his judgement. But when he thinks of her sitting in a room all alone, Sasuke knows he can't lie and leave her waiting. Not again.
Besides, it has been fourteen days since he last kissed her.
The village is dark and quiet. Civilians and shinobi alike are in bed at this hour. Mist shrouds the roads and buildings, spectral in the moonlight. Yagami Street is located in one of the oldest sections of Kiri. Restaurants here serenade their customers with the shamisen, and inns cater to the traditional. He finds the blue-roofed minshuku bookended between the weapons shop and the library, just as Sakura said it would be.
A woman sits behind the front desk, wrinkled, white-haired, and grandmotherly, wearing a green yukata.
"I'm meeting someone here," he says.
"Name?"
"Haruno," Sasuke tells her.
"Ah, yes," says the woman. "She's in room 201."
He takes the stairs up to the second floor landing, slides open the first door on the left, and sees Sakura sitting on the futon, reading a book. He's late, maybe by as much as a quarter-hour, but she only smiles at him and says, "Sasuke-kun. You're here."
She sounds surprised that he came, and he supposes that's fair, since he almost didn't.
Sasuke takes off his shoes and sets them neatly by the door. He walks to the bed, and when Sakura closes her book, he sees from the cover that it's a very battered copy of Icha Icha Paradise.
"Is that Kakashi's?" Sasuke asks.
Sakura laughs and sets the paperback aside. "Yeah. I picked his pocket earlier today, just to see if I could."
"I take it he didn't catch you." Sasuke comes closer, sits next to her on the bed.
"Our sensei is getting old and slow," she says. "I'll give his book back tomorrow."
He cups her cheek, leans over and kisses her. A light meeting of lips, until Sakura opens her mouth to him. He puts his hand on her thigh, slides it under her skirt. Instead of finding cotton or lace, as he expected, Sasuke touches only the softness of Sakura. He breaks the kiss and looks at her. She blushes under his hard stare and gives him a gentle smile. Then she straddles his lap, unzips her shirt, pulls her skirt up around her waist. Now he can see what he felt a moment ago: she isn't wearing any panties (and Sasuke thinks if he married another woman and fathered children and lived to be a hundred he would still never forget this sight).
He wants her with the same kind of single-mindedness with which he once wanted revenge. Intensely and to the exclusion of all else. Not just her body; that's only the basest part of Sakura that he desires. Sasuke needs everything from her, and he doesn't know why or when this happened, but he has to put a stop to it.
So when she tries to kiss him, he deftly avoids the contact, and when she tugs at his shirt, he stills her hands and says, "Don't bother."
He moves to undo his pants, but Sakura catches his arm and asks, "What's wrong?"
"Nothing." He can hear the flatness of his own voice, the insincerity and indifference, and Sakura must too, because she's frowning now, brows drawn closer together over her pale green eyes.
"Be honest," she says. "Please."
Sasuke flips her onto her back, yanks her shirt open wider, and bends to take the nipple of one small breast into his mouth. She cards her fingers through his hair, whimpers his name. He thinks the matter is settled, that there will be no more talk, but when he releases her, Sakura scrambles backward, away from him, and crosses an arm over her bare chest. She's pink-cheeked, flushed with want. "Something's different," she says. "You're different."
"Do you want to do this or not?" he asks.
Sakura reels as if he slapped her. "Is that all that matters to you? Is that all you came here for? To have sex?"
"That's all there is between us," Sasuke says, and maybe this isn't true yet, but it needs to be.
"Oh." She sounds so lost and hurt that he almost wants to take back his words. Sakura closes and zips her shirt with trembling hands. Tugs her skirt back down over her hips, straightens it. She stands, smooths her hair, and says, "I'm not much in the mood anymore. I'll—I'll see you around, Sasuke-kun."
She picks up Kakashi's book, opens the door, and walks out.
He sits alone in the rented room long after she leaves, nearly certain he did the right thing, but regretting it all the same.
Sakura wakes up late, head pounding. She cried all night in the privacy of her room, curled up on her side, arms wrapped around a plump, goose down pillow. Now her face feels swollen and tender, and every heartbeat sends a sharp throb of pain to her temples, behind her eyes. She pulls the blanket up over her head, warding away the morning light (which is dull and grey, because this is Kiri, but it's still too bright for her to stand just now).
She hears Sasuke's words again, as plainly as if he were here with her, saying that the only thing between them is sex.
And isn't that what she'd asked for, when she propositioned him at his birthday party? How had she been stupid enough to get her hopes up, to allow herself to expect anything more from him? They never discussed the particulars of what they were doing, but she knew very well that Sasuke didn't want a relationship. So why had it been so painful to hear what she already suspected?
Sakura drags herself out of bed, washes her face, and glances in the mirror. She looks every bit as awful as she feels, and worse, it's obvious that she cried herself to sleep last night. She can only hope that she doesn't run into Sasuke.
Sakura manages to avoid him, but she isn't three steps outside of the inn when Naruto puts his hand on her shoulder and asks, "What's wrong, Sakura-chan?"
"Nothing. I'm fine." A lie if she's ever told one, but she can hardly confide in Naruto today.
He frowns, confusion and concern clearly written across his face. So open and so different from Sasuke's subtly shifting expressions. "You don't have to lie to me," Naruto says. "Whatever it is, I can help. That's what friends are for, right?"
Sakura gives him a weak smile. "There's nothing you can do. Not this time."
She leaves him and heads toward the training grounds, where Izumi, Hachiro, and Saito are waiting for her.
The next several days go by quickly. Sakura trains her genin, shepherds Naruto to functions with the Mizukage and her administration, and avoids Sasuke. Still, she sees him twice. Once while serving as the Hokage's escort, and again when Team 7 goes out for dinner. She's thankful, for the first time since arriving in Kiri, that Sasuke's room at the ryokan is so far apart from hers.
The third stage of the chunin exams begins on a morning just as misty and cool as the days that came before it. Sakura sits next to Naruto in the stands reserved for the Hokage and his Konoha jounin. She expects Sasuke to take the place on Naruto's other side, but instead he sits by her.
She hates herself a little for the way her heart begins to beat faster. As awful as their last confrontation was, she misses him. She always misses him when they're apart for long.
The first few rounds pit genin from Kiri and other hidden villages against one another. Five of Konoha's shinobi made it to the final rounds, but their matches are further down the line. She should pay attention—the chunin exams are an opportunity to see their competitors' new blood, to gauge the potential of the next generation—but all Sakura can think about is Sasuke, sitting so close to her that their shoulders brush. She can feel the warmth radiating off of him and smell the woodsmoke scent that clings to his clothes. It hurts, almost, to be right next to this man that she loves.
That's all there is between us. Only sex.
He just wants the comfort of her body. Someone to fuck and sleep beside and help keep the nightmares at bay. A few weeks ago Sakura thought that would be enough for her. She could enjoy what they had for as long as it lasted without the burden of boundaries or expectations. But since that night on Yagami Street she's come to realize that she was wrong; there are boundaries and expectations, but they all belong to Sasuke. Every aspect of their relationship has been determined by him. The when and where and who they tell. And as much as she wants to keep seeing him, Sakura isn't sure of how much longer she can stand being at Sasuke's beck and call. It's against her nature, and what started out as pleasurable and loving has grown painful.
Sakura makes herself watch the matches until Izumi's turn comes, and then she no longer has to force interest.
The announcer calls out, "Kagome Nishi versus Tsukino Izumi!"
Her genin walks onto the sands of the arena, steady and straight-backed. Her opponent is a Kiri ninja. He doesn't sport the sharp teeth or gills that shinobi from his village sometimes have, but Nishi must be fourteen or fifteen, and he stands a good foot taller than Izumi.
"That's your girl, right, Sakura-chan?" Naruto asks.
"Yeah. That's my girl." Saying it aloud gives her more confidence. Izumi might be small—smaller than Sakura even—but she's a talented genin who deserves to be promoted.
Nishi lunges at Izumi and barrages her with a series of strong kicks and punches, obviously hoping to overwhelm his opponent in close combat, but Izumi's taijutsu is nearly as strong as her ninjutsu, and she easily blocks his blows and lands a few of her own.
"She's good," Sasuke says.
These are the first words he has spoken to her in days, and even though the compliment is directed at her student, Sakura still feels proud, because she's the one who helped Izumi refine her techniques.
Blades come out, and Izumi barely dodges a kunai. It glances across her upper arm, tearing her sleeve and leaving a line of blood across her skin. She ignores it, jumps backwards to make space between herself and Nishi, and lets a handful of shuriken fly. While he dodges the throwing stars, Izumi makes the hand seals for the Uchiha's signature jutsu. Sakura recognizes them right away, but Nishi obviously doesn't, because when a twenty-foot-high fireball comes toward him a moment later he shouts and covers his face and tries to jump out of the way.
He doesn't jump far or fast enough.
A few minutes later, the boy from the Mist Village is carried out of the arena on a stretcher, unconscious, his pale skin burned an ugly, oozing red.
Izumi advances to the next round.
"So she learned it," Sasuke says.
"She did." Sakura can't bring herself to look at him. Instead she stares at the disrupted arena sands. Golden waves that have been burnt and broken up.
"Sakura," he says, and now his voice has changed. It's lower, private. The rare tone he uses when he means to say something personal in a public space. "About the other night—"
"Don't." She doesn't know whether he means to apologize or simply restate a hard truth in a gentler way. But if he makes her cry in front of Naruto and half their friends she'll never forgive him. Or herself.
"Fine. If that's how you want it," he says sharply.
She faces him now, because she can't believe Sasuke has the gall to be annoyed with her. "Don't pretend that what I want matters to you in the least," she whispers.
She makes to walk out (Hachiro's fight is still two matches away, enough time for her to breathe and gather herself), but Sakura doesn't make it a foot before Sasuke catches her arm. "Wait," he says, loud enough for every Konoha shinobi in the stands to hear.
They all turn and look. Naruto frowns, Ino puts her hand over her mouth, and Kakashi-sensei raises his silver eyebrows.
Sakura just smiles and asks, "Is there something you wanted, Sasuke-kun?"
Author's Note: Wow, guys. Over 200 reviews and over 400 follows! I can't tell you how excited I am about that. Every favorite and follow makes my day. To those who comment, thank you for your feedback. It's so encouraging, and it really inspires me to keep working on this story. I hate that it took so long to update this time around, but I was sick for about three weeks and it really put me behind. I've also started a new job, and that's consuming a lot of my time. Even if it takes a little longer to update than usual, rest assured that I am not giving up on this fic. I'm determined to see it through to the end.
As always, a big, big thank you to my betas, uchihasass and tall-girl-in-a-small-world. You ladies are really spectacular!
Also, If you haven't checked out uchihasass's fic, A Light That Never Goes Out, you absolutely should. It's incredibly well-written, engaging, and clever, and there are hints of SasuSaku that I hope to see evolve as the story goes on. And I'm not just saying that because I'm the beta for it.