The Uchiha Fraud
Chapter Eight
"You really need to get a phone," Ino said, situating the sunglasses on top of her head. "I was afraid I was going to have to perform mission impossible and break you out of that gorgeous house."
"But that means someone will be able to reach me," Sakura pointed out, taking a sip of her smoothie. "Like… at all times."
"That's the whole point."
"Yeah, no thanks."
Although Sakura was able to see her best friend after—has it only been two days?—an eternity, she still harbored some guilt for leaving. Poor Mikoto had made plans to take a short trip to the next country over, but imagine the look on her face when she found the pink-haired girl up and ready to waltz out the front door. Thankfully Sasuke had intervened before the elder Uchiha could drag her off to the next available flight against her will…
That would've been a disaster.
So with Sasuke spending quality time with his mother, Sakura was able to roam freely for the day.
And that's where Ino came in.
.
.
"Get with the times, forehead." Ino picked at her blueberry muffin absent-mindedly, her eyes wandering around the room before it eventually zeroed in on the medic's hand. Her bare hand, to be exact. "Didn't a ring come with this whole package deal?"
"The ring…" Sakura repeated slowly, not realizing what her friend meant until she followed the blonde's gaze. "Oh, that ring. I didn't trust myself wearing it outside the house."
"Ugh." Ino scoffed. "What is the point of having a rock on your finger the size of my face and NOT being able to show it off?"
"I don't think a few envious people are worth having in exchange for a huge debt over my head," Sakura replied dryly. "I'm pretty sure that the ring is worth more than me… well, I'm positive it's worth more than me." She paused. "And you. Combined."
"I just still cannot believe you left it at home." Ino groaned as if her life was ending. And it probably was. "If you weren't going to wear it, then damn it, let me!"
"Because that would've been so much better."
"I don't know how you live your life," Ino sighed dramatically. "Anyways, is Uchiha Sasuke as beautiful as he is on television?"
"That depends. How good does he look on national TV?" Sakura said carefully, "I wouldn't know—"
"I'm ashamed sometimes to be friends with a cavewoman." Ino rolled her eyes. "He's freaking gorgeous on television."
"That admiration eventually wears off," she pointed out, remembering how rude the Uchiha had been when she first stepped foot in his house. "But yes, he is good-looking."
"Did you find out anything interesting?"
"He likes tomatoes?"
"Nothing new. Where do you sleep?"
"In, uh, our bed."
"Shoot me, please. Does he cuddle?"
"He'll put a restraining order on me if I so much as touched him in my sleep. Really, Ino?"
The blonde was silent for a moment, then leaned in a bit. "Does he have any blackheads?" Ino whispered, not realizing how absurd she looked. "In the photos and interviews, his skin is completely flawless, but everyone and their mothers know how to edit videos and use photoshop nowadays."
"Ino, I don't think—" Sakura earned a just-answer-the-question look from the blonde, preventing her from making a snarky reply. "No, he doesn't. His skin is perfect."
"Double damn," she whistled, leaning back in her seat. "When are you inviting me over for dinner?"
"I guess I'm free on the fourth of never," Sakura said thoughtfully, taking one last sip of her now empty drink. "How does that sound?"
"I'll see if I'm busy."
Sakura stretched lazily in her seat, feet sore from Ino's "Infamous Day of Relaxation" idea that the blonde had stubbornly insisted on. Of course, the pink-haired medic found absolutely nothing relaxing about venturing through a five-story shopping mall, watching as her friend thoroughly perused every single store and debated on which color of soap to buy. By the time they reached the fourth floor where the spa was located, Sakura was about ready to head home and knock out for the rest of her life.
"Feeling relaxed, forehead?" Ino asked, rejuvenated after the hour-long body massage. "Next time you're feeling stressed, don't hesitate to give me a call and I'll whip up another Day of Relaxation."
"I've always heard about massages being a gift from Heaven," Sakura started, rotating her arms in order to loosen the muscles in her shoulders, "but I didn't realize you had to go through Hell first."
"You didn't like it?" Ino looked scandalized.
"I'm extremely sensitive to pain," Sakura explained, cringing as she thought back to the masseuse's rough hands drilling into her back like there was no tomorrow. "Did they really have to squeeze my skin that hard?"
"It's to loosen your muscles," the blonde pointed out, rolling her eyes. "I honestly do not know what to do with you sometimes." Ino sighed once more. "Want to get a pedicure?"
"My feet are ticklish."
"God, forehead."
By the time she and Ino had decided to part ways, half of the day was gone and Sakura still had yet to visit the hospital. Due to her acceptance of Sasuke's fake marriage proposal, Sakura reluctantly stopped her work as Tsunade's apprentice in order to focus all her time on playing wife to Uchiha Sasuke. Although her current "job" gave her a big fat salary in return, it didn't give her the same satisfaction as working in a hospital did.
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.
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"About time you showed your face around here." The woman smiled. "You're looking like shit. Having a rough time adjusting?"
"Ino," Sakura said, as if the name itself explained everything. And it did. "Infamous Day of Relaxation, she called it."
"That blonde was always something else…" Tsunade shook her head, taking a sip of her tea. She eyed Sakura, looking thoughtful for a moment. "Are you allowed to be here?"
"What do you mean?"
"I don't want this hospital to be unnecessarily infiltrated with authority figures, all because a certain pink-haired medic decided not to inform her husband of her whereabouts," her mentor answered smoothly, reaching under into the drawer for a small bottle of sake. "But other than that, you know you're always welcome."
"You knew about that?" Sakura asked, cringing inwardly.
"I may not be sober half of the time but I'm not deaf," Tsunade replied, taking a small gulp from the bottle. "Though I'm a tad bit disappointed that I had to hear the news from the gossiping nurses instead of from my cute little apprentice." She cleared her throat, wiping her mouth with the sleeve of her arm. "But, I presume that congratulations are in order?"
Sakura smiled, thanking her albeit half-heartedly.
Tsunade was one of the—if not most—respected surgeon throughout the country, although to the aspiring doctor, the honey-eyed woman was more of a mother in her eyes than anything else. When Sakura had requested to be temporarily relieved of her duties as a volunteer, she used "business matters" as the primary reason, which wasn't too short of a stretch from the truth. There was something about leaving her position as an apprentice to the number one surgeon in Japan, only to take up the role as Uchiha Sakura for two weeks.
Sakura would be lying if she said she wasn't afraid of what her mentor would have to say about that.
"So, what can I do for you today?"
"I haven't helped an ill citizen in about a week and I'm developing symptoms of a nervous breakdown," Sakura answered, laughing with small hints of embarrassment. Still feeling the soreness in her muscles, Sakura rotated her shoulders at an attempt to ease the pain. "Anything I can do today that doesn't require difficult patients?"
"By any chance, does curing your nervous breakdown apply towards doing some paperwork?"
"And by 'some,' you really mean 'a shit load' right?"
"Sometimes I wish you didn't know me so well," Tsunade mumbled, pulling a folder from underneath a stack of papers. "Unfortunately for you, all the files I have right now are standard check-ups, which are easy enough tasks for two of my available nurses." She closed the manila folder in front of her, gesturing it towards Sakura. "However, I do have a surgery occurring in about an hour which you can either silently observe or scrub in for."
"Surgery?" Sakura made no attempt to hide her surprise.
"No difficult patients, remember?" Tsunade smiled. "As far as I know, unconscious patients don't fall under that category. And you've scrubbed in for all of my previous surgeries – now shouldn't be any different."
"But you were there," Sakura reasoned, still unable to wrap her mind around the idea. Usually she wouldn't doubt her own abilities as a medic student, but even the thought of potentially screwing up made her stomach churn. "Supervising, as a matter of fact."
"I wouldn't trust anyone else." Tsunade raised a brow. "Has that Uchiha been that much of a controlling prick that you're starting to second-guess yourself?"
"Well, no, but –"
"Which reminds me," she interrupted, "You're not pregnant, are you?"
Sakura almost choked on her spit.
"Shishou!"
"One night of tango dancing taken a step too far, maybe?" Tsunade asked innocently, giving herself an imaginary pat on the back at the sight of Sakura's flushing cheeks. "It is a tad bit suspicious that you've been working under my wing for a good year or so, yet not once have you mentioned Uchiha Sasuke's name. It would only make sense for a sudden marriage to occur out of an unexpected pregnancy."
"Whose surgery will I be scrubbing in for, again?" Sakura huffed angrily, her face still red as a tomato.
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.
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Tsunade laughed.
Sasuke loved his mother, but a whole day of "quality time" as Sakura had put it, was evidently – too long. Visiting various cities of Japan throughout the day and shopping at the market may have been relaxing had he more patience and less work to do, but putting off the paperwork for even one hour was bound to leave him completely swamped for the following week. His mother must have sensed his discomfort – or noticed the way he kept checking his watch every five minutes – so she proceeded to call it a day after six hours of mindless wandering at little shops and tourist sites.
Next time, if there was a next time, he would have to reconsider letting Sakura have a "free" day. Or maybe next time the three would be able to go together, so if something were to come up in the midst of it, he could easily sneak away without upsetting his mother. Because the Uchiha matriarch – though he hated to admit it – reminded him of his idiot best friend, albeit more intelligent and could actually take a hint. So unlike the blonde, who would forever remain clueless unless you told him straight to his face – but even then, it wasn't likely he'd even listen, much less comply.
Now that he thought back to his wife, where the hell was she?
He glanced at the clock hanging on the wall opposite of him.
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8:00.
.
Surely a day out with her friend – he didn't care enough to remember her name – didn't take that long. Usually the whole "catching up" concept would be over and done with at a nearby café, following a good amount of coffee and pointless gossip. Sakura didn't seem the type to indulge in those useless things, although judging by the little information he obtained about her friend, the medic would be kind and patient enough to go along with whatever her friend wished.
But that would only take about five hours… unless she decided to take a detour and stop by the hospital to observe a procedure.
'Or five,' Sasuke thought dryly.
If Sakura was anything like him, she would need to be physically hauled away from her job.
.
.
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The sound of the front door opening broke him from his thoughts.
When Sasuke finally made his way downstairs, the last place he imagined Sakura to be was curled up on his couch – his mother glancing over worriedly every few seconds, her favorite television show neglected. At his sudden appearance, Mikoto eyes showed obvious relief though her face was still marred with a frown, flitted with concern. His eyes slid to meet his mother's in silent question, but she made a small shrug with her shoulders and tapped her lips, signaling that the pink-haired woman had refused to talk.
Mikoto reached for the remote, shutting off the television with a click and wordlessly left the room, giving him a reassuring touch on her way out. Leave it to his mother to have faith in her apathetic son when it came to women and their unpredictable moods.
He sighed.
Sakura remained silent, staring at the blank screen.
It was obvious that she wasn't talking anytime soon, and the sooner this little predicament was over with, the sooner he'd be able to sleep. And he knew for a fact that his mother would kill him with her own bare hands if he completely disregarded Sakura's feelings and told her to "get over it." Thinking back to his father's actions when his mother lapsed into her "moods," Sasuke searched for something that didn't leave the Uchiha matriarch furious with threats.
"How –"
"I'm going to sleep," she said suddenly, her voice lacking its original chipper tone. Sakura got up slowly, though paused to utter a quiet, "Good night, Sasuke-kun."
"Sakura."
She stopped beside him, still facing the door, tilting her head – waiting.
Seeing her like this, her eyes vacant. It didn't suit her.
"What happened?"
Silence.
Sasuke turned towards her, observing her expression, though she made no move to acknowledge him. Maybe she got into a small argument with her friend? No, if that were the case, she might have gone home angry and vent to anyone with ears – whether they were willing to listen or not. A small headache began to form as his patience was slowly dwindling, and suddenly a thought occurred.
The hospital.
If she had stopped by the hospital like he thought she would, then something must have occurred there. Sasuke then jumped to the only conclusion that would make her react so horribly, and by then, Sakura's whole body had stiffened.
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He knows.
.
"Sakura," he began, trying to think of the right words to say, but then clamped his mouth shut.
As a child, Sasuke learned the ropes on how to establish a business, how to compromise, and how to make decisions that in turn work in his favor. Money, stocks, managing – that he was accustomed to, to the point where it became as easy as breathing to him. But throughout his life he never imagined death or came so close to facing it, never had to deal with losing someone important.
The very idea was foreign to him.
So how do you console someone so overwhelmed with grief?
.
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"Akira," Sakura said quietly, her voice coming out as a whisper, cracking at the end.
"Who –"
Before Sasuke could register the name or why she had said it, her shoulders began to shake, though from her clenched fists – he could tell that she was doing everything she could not to break down in front of him. Sakura's efforts rendered useless when a sob escaped her lips, and she brought her hands to cover her mouth, her eyes firmly shut as tears traveled down her already damp cheeks.
For a few minutes, Sasuke watched her cry into her hands, body shaking with the sheer force of her sobs. Hesitantly, he reached a hand towards her shoulder, causing her to open her eyes – staring at him questioningly beneath the blur of her tears. And before he realized what he had done, his arms were wrapped around her in an embrace. She became still, though her sobs didn't lessen, but eventually she relaxed – fisting his shirt and crying into his chest.
When he was younger, Mikoto used to hold him, comforting him after a particularly horrid nightmare as he cried himself to sleep. His eyes softened as he – awkwardly – patted her back, finally understanding that sometimes talking about it isn't the only and best solution.
.
.
.
So he held her.
Author's Note: As you can see, I still have no idea if I managed to pull this chapter off - emotions and all - but I tried. I had to go into Sasuke!mode to write the last scene, so hopefully he isn't OOC... if he is, I have failed you. And myself.
Thank you everyone for waiting and reading! Summer vacation, anyone?