The Uchiha Fraud
Chapter Nine
It was a little past five 'o' clock in the morning when Sasuke was jostled from his light snoozing.
In the midst of his comfort-attempt on Sakura, the two had somehow made their way onto the couch, his 'wife' having fallen asleep on his shoulder with his right arm tucked safely around her. His eyes snapped open, taking a moment to blink away the feeling of sand prickling his eyes. Sasuke tilted his head to look at the slumbering girl beside him, realizing that she had unconsciously woken him up with her crying again.
It was hard to ignore her hiccups and trembling.
Not to mention his arm was painfully sore. And numb.
.
.
.
Pulmonary embolism - that was what she had called it.
Hearing the word the first time from one distressed Sakura didn't spark any type of recognition within him. During her emotional breakdown, she had uttered various words - names - he didn't recognize. Medical terms, names of nurses, doctors, surgical machines, and tools that eventually lead to the death of a kind young boy by the name of Yamato Akira. She cried and shook and held onto him for dear life and he could do nothing but listen and comfort her the only way he knew how.
Just a simple leg fracture, she had said. And within a moment's notice, everything began to crash around her and all she could do was watch and watch and watch.
Unknowingly, Sasuke's grip on her tightened.
Sakura didn't know how long she laid there on the couch - still and impossibly silent. Glancing over at the clock sitting innocently on the shelf, she realized it was noon and that she had no desire to get up. Or even move. The initial shock had eventually worn off along with the heart-wrenching pain of being so weak, though what was left made its way deep into her gut in the form of a guilty conscience.
.
"Don't worry, you'll be done in no time!"
.
How utterly and horribly wrong Sakura had been.
She could still hear him fighting to breathe - gurgling - and then there was nothing.
The grief, it wedged itself in her heart - an unwelcome presence. A constant reminder that she did nothing, had the ability to do nothing. Useless, useless, useless. Sakura wanted to lie there on the couch and have the ground swallow her whole, but the funny thing about life was, it was going to continue on - with or without her. Wasting away in her own world where Akira was still alive, a world where she had the power to save him - to rescue him from death. All the while Ino will continue to arrange flowers, Mikoto will return to her husband, and Sasuke... Sasuke will continue running a business that he worked his whole life for.
Death, death was expected; they spent their lives preparing for it, living their life to the fullest yet why did it still manage to catch them off-guard?
A quick pull of the carpet under your feet and you spend the rest of your life trying to find that balance.
Sakura closed her eyes, drowning out the images - hoping she could just—
.
.
"Oh, no you don't!" A voice suddenly chirped, and before she knew it, she was situated in a sitting position and being fussed over.
There.
A flash of anger flickered within her.
"What are you doing?" She couldn't help the biting tone laced in her words.
"You've been moping around all morning," Mikoto reprimanded, dragging Sakura up by her hand, pulling her up the staircase - her grip tight though not enough to bruise. "We need to get you out of these scrubs and into some nice, clean clothes."
"No."
The word slipped out before she could stop herself.
Mikoto stopped, turning around to stare, eyebrow raised.
"Sakura. Dear, you - "
"No," she repeated, pulling back her hand with a sense of urgency. "I said no. Someone died -" Sakura took a shuddering breath. " - a boy, he died. Doesn't it... doesn't that mean anything - anything at all - to you?"
A part of her felt ridiculous - crazed, even.
But Mikoto didn't understand; they didn't understand.
It was all her fault.
She was there and she couldn't do anything, and before she knew it he was struggling, gasping, and oh God -
"People die all the time," the Uchiha matriarch said softly, attempting to soothe the near-hysteric girl. "There's nothing you and I can do about it—"
"I took an oath," Sakura snapped, tears brimming her eyes out of sheer frustration - frustration because no one understood. "An oath. And I couldn't - couldn't..."
"Sakura."
He was there.
"Calm down," he said sternly, grabbing her upper arms with both hands.
And in that split second - all the pain, hurt, and helplessness escaped and turned into fury.
"I can't calm down! I'm losing patients that aren't even old enough to know what they want in the world yet, and I'm supposed to be a doctor?" Sakura yelled, biting her lip to suppress a sob. "What's the point? What's the point?"
Silence.
"Do you even hear what you're saying?" Sasuke said slowly, his voice low. "You become a doctor to help patients, people; no one expects you to sa - "
"I let him down," she hissed. "His parents, they're grieving and alone, and I can't - just can't.".
A slap resounded throughout the empty hallway.
Sakura's face stung with the impact against her cheek.
"Stop," Mikoto ordered, not feeling the least bit sorry for what she had done. "You are not ruining your life over something that can't be changed. It happened and you will grieve, and no matter how sorry you are, there is nothing more you can do. So either you go take a shower willingly, or so help me God, I will forcefully do it myself. "
All the words she had planned to shout died at the tip of her tongue.
There is nothing more you can do.
Wasn't there anything? Something? A part of her clung to this hope, that maybe if she had known beforehand... but she didn't know, did she? It was her job, right? No, no it wasn't supposed to be her. Maybe if she could have recognized the symptoms, if she had known, she could have told—
"Stop fighting, Sakura."
.
There is nothing more you can do.
Nothing more you can do.
Nothing you can do.
.
"It's okay," Mikoto whispered, wrapping her arms around a shaking Sakura.
When had she started crying?
"Come on, let's get you cleaned up."
.
.
.
She didn't resist.
But the dreaded feeling of acceptance hovered dangerously above her.
The rest of the day was spent mostly in silence, Sasuke having dismissed all his staff for the day in consideration for Sakura, who had barely spoken since the breakdown in the hallway. Mikoto had been determined to keep her daughter-in-law distracted, whether it was through light conversation - mainly one sided - or by forcing the unresponsive girl to watch television, teach her how to knit, etc.
And Sasuke - Sasuke locked himself up in the room and continued to work.
.
.
.
"Alright! Soup it is!" Mikoto exclaimed, tying her apron while she dug through the cupboards. She paused, eyeing the various cans and boxes. "I'll have to take a trip to the store." Mikoto looked over and frowned. "No, no. Hm, I'll just call someone. I'll just be a moment, so don't go anywhere."
Sakura moved to rest her head down on the table, her face turned towards the window.
When did the sun set?
She should just go to sle—
"Have you eaten?"
She looked up, slightly surprised to see Sasuke there.
It looked like he was taking a break from his duties, his glasses resting on the bridge of his nose, an empty mug of coffee in his hand.
"I - "
Her hesitance was all he needed.
Sasuke made his way towards the fridge - setting down the mug - digging through a couple of drawers before pulling out two apples. She watched as he made nice, clean cuts, organizing them into rows on a plate before handing them to her.
A part of her hoped that he would leave, but he stood there - waiting.
It wasn't until she reached over and took a small bite that he turned to make coffee for himself.
When he was finished, he walked past her, stopping mid-step - contemplating. It was a light and brief touch on the shoulder, but it shocked her all the same. And then it was gone, the warm feeling.
.
.
.
She stared at the plate of apples momentarily before her eyes slid over to the new object sitting innocently beside the fruit.
A jar of peanut butter.
.
.
"Sorry for taking so long!" Mikoto rushed in, a bag of groceries in her hand. "I asked Mizuho to be quick, but of course, she saw the sales and wanted to get my opinion on the - " She stopped. "You ate already?"
"Sasuke-kun... he took a break from work," Sakura answered, her throat dry and still flitted with emotion.
"Well! I'll just have to cook you some of my soup!" she replied cheerfully, happy that there was progress, however little. "My grandmother used to make me this when I was younger, she - "
Sakura tuned her out, nodding in the right places to pretend that she was still listening, her eyes glued on the jar of peanut butter. After a few more seconds, she reached over and opened it - dipping her apples into the jar and savoring the taste.
It was familiar.
And for a moment, she was able to forget.
It wasn't until later when they were both ready to sleep that Sasuke saw Sakura again. She was already in bed by the time he decided to turn in, carrying out his routine before settling himself into bed. He would've believed she was already fast asleep had he not heard her small sniffles. Sasuke was thankful towards his mother, who had been stubborn with Sakura, pushing him towards finishing his work while she took it upon herself to help the crying girl.
He was new to this, and if he were in Mikoto's place, what would he have done?
What could he have done?
It wasn't him - comforting girls on couches and listening to them cry their eyes dry, body shaking too much to breathe correctly... it wasn't him. But he could offer his silent support, his presence. Sasuke didn't probe for more information, didn't ask her questions—he was just there.
And that, in itself, was enough.
.
.
.
Sakura shifted onto her back, waiting a moment before she spoke.
"I'm sorry..." she said slowly, then a soft, "and thank you."
Sasuke let out a small "Aa" in response.
He turned onto his side, getting into a more comfortable position.
Sakura remained on her back, mindlessly counting the small bumps on the ceiling.
.
.
"Sasuke-kun?" she called out hesitantly.
"Hn?"
"Do you think there's a heaven?"
For a while, he didn't answer, choosing only to sigh quietly.
"I don't know."
Strangely, she was satisfied with that.
.
.
.
One day, gone.
A lifetime more to go.
Author's Note: My puppy, he died yesterday... and I just, really needed to write. This chapter is dedicated to Kovu - my puppy - and my sister, because she really needs it. Cherish everyone and everything around you while you still have that chance.
Thank you for being so patient, and I wrote everyone in-character as much as I could. But can anyone be themselves in situations like these? Maybe. I don't know.