title: again
author: reviee
prompt: #94: independence
rating: T
summary: SasuSaku. Nothing changes.
a/n: um, finally, im writing on the aftermath of my breakup... this is gonna be emotional.
"I have things to do," he says, "I'm an important person now that I'm eighteen. I have responsibilities, Sakura. I have to focus on my studies if I'm going to take over the Uchiha name."
He holds her hand as she sits stills and listens to him carefully. Her eyes are glassy because there are tears threatening to fall. Her hand is not gripping his. She is not breathing because her breath caught in her throat the minute he said, 'I don't think this is working.'
"I... I know," she finally replies and she cannot muster enough courage to look at him in the eyes.
"Then you know that," he strokes her fingers now, "this is for the best. You wouldn't have been happy. I need to delegate my time properly and I wouldn't have time to see you,"
Tears are streaming down her face now and she is hiccupping. Ino is in the back of her mind yelling, 'Don't show him weakness!' But she thinks perhaps Sasuke will rethink this decision if she shows him how much it hurts her.
Suddenly, she is mad. She is mad that he pretends this is about her. This isn't about her at all—it is about him and his father's company and how much he doesn't love her enough to try. She rips her hand from his and stands up, pointing an accusing finger at him.
"It hurts," she starts, "it hurts that you don't want to try. But it hurts even more when you want to pretend that this is about how unhappy I'll be. No, Sasuke, this is about you. You've always had more important things than me and this one finally broke us up,"
"Sakura—"
"Sasuke," she cuts him off, "if you say it's over then it's over. Goodbye,"
With that, she grabs her purse off the stone bench and storms away. He watches her as her hair whooshes around her. He hears her sandals clack noisily against the pavement. The smell of her perfume is gone and he can't help but think that he'll never see pink hair or hear her noisy shoes or smell her sweet perfume again.
He gets into his car and drives home.
She sees couples around campus a lot. She watches them as their relationship flourishes even under the stress of handing in assignments and writing midterms. She doesn't wonder if she and Sasuke would have been like that; sneaking kisses between classes or grabbing a coffee during break.
Instead, she focuses on her studies just as he decided to focus on his. Her grades are better than ever and she feels herself becoming happy. She is now one of her school's top pre-med students and she is proud. Sometimes she thanks him in her head, for pushing her to be this better person.
Other times, she hopes he's wallowing in regret and self-loathing.
They meet again, by chance this time. It is a few months later. Her breath catches once again at the sight of him. He is bundled up in his expensive coat and scarf. He looks the same, she thinks. His hair is a little longer and his eyes droop a little more but it is subtle. He is standing right in front of her.
"Hi," she greets lightly.
She feels as if she's going to die. Her heart is pounding at a million miles per hour and her palms are sweating. She cannot breathe and she sort of feels like sneezing but also feels like letting out waterfalls. She grips her purse tighter.
"Hn," he nods to acknowledge her.
That is it. Without another word, he walks past her. She is frozen in place and there are all these thoughts she cannot pinpoint running through her head. His scent reaches her nose and finally, she starts crying. She is sobbing and making weird noises with her nose. Her heart hurts and there aren't enough tears in the world to express her pain, she thinks.
She misses him terribly.
He appears in a lot of newspapers now. Often, she'll wake up and his face will be lying on her front porch. It doesn't affect her now as much as the first time seeing him successful did. He appears on newspapers because she was sacrificed and she sighs. Her eyes skim over the article before flipping to another article.
She can't help but notice that he still affects her. It's been a year and he still affects her. It's pathetic, she thinks, but this is how she feels. There are other men who flirt with her; who are nice and charming, but they will never be Sasuke. Smart, rich and distant but friendly. He is unique and no one could ever replace him.
The first time she decides to go on a date in a year, she follows the man home. The next morning, Sasuke is back on her mind.
Ino decides that it is important to celebrate her getting into med school. Her blonde friend invites all of their high school friends as well as all of their college friends. There is alcohol and pretty dresses and shoes as high as the sky. Sakura is content. She laughs and shakes her butt to the beat of the music.
She is sitting alone at the table taking a breather when he walks in. He spots her and goes to her. She is panicking because she doesn't want to cry at her own party and even though she has built immunity to Sasuke over the years, he may still affect her in such close proximity. She looks around and everyone is dancing excitedly and in their own world. She puts a hand on her chest to calm herself.
When he arrives in front of her, she stands up with a huge grin on her face. It is pretentious, but not entirely. Her heart continues to hurt but she decides she is happy he is here because she didn't want to celebrate this with anyone else.
"Sakura," he calls to her over the loud music, "Congratulations!"
"Thank you!" She grabs her drink off the table and he takes an empty glass that isn't his. "Cheers!"
He clinks his glass with hers and while she tosses back her drink, he places his back on the table. "I'm sorry, but I can't stay. I have to go."
"Of course," she replies quickly. She cannot stop a sad smile from plastering itself all over her face. He seems to notice as his eyes trail over her lips.
"Congratulations again," he tells her and then he is walking away.
Sakura orders another drink and she admires him. He is dressed in a very expensive looking suit. His shoes are Italian, she notes. There is a gold watch peeking from under his cuff. His hair is done the same way as it was when she was with him, except it is sharper and better done. He looks so put together and grown up. She takes her drink in one gulp when she realizes she missed his transition from a teenager to an adult. It hurts once again, but she realizes that he also missed her transition from a teenager to an adult.
When she sees him again, they are at a fancy event. It is some charity ball held to raise money for all kinds of medical research. She is interning at Senju Corps, a company that develops medical technology. She is ecstatic Tsunade chose her to attend this event. She is dressed in a long, deep plum coloured dress. It trails behind her and shows off her gloriously expensive heels. It is backless. She does not notice him. She is chatting with a very nice man when he goes to her.
"I'll get you a drink," the man smiles at her and leaves.
"Here," a deep voice comes from behind her and it is not the same man, but she recognizes the voice immediately.
She turns around and her heart nearly stops. He is standing right behind her, holding a flute filled with champagne. She smells his mouth-watering cologne and feels the tailored suit brush against her bare back and her chin. He is so close and so familiar but she does not know how she feels about this. She has moved on. She has shoved him into the recesses of her mind and she does not want him to come back out. He will always be a part of her, but she does not want him to be an active part of her.
"Sasuke," she breathes, eyes widening.
He holds out the champagne to her. "Sakura," he greets.
"You, uh," she takes the champagne flute and looks him up and down, "...look well."
"You too," he quickly replies. "How are you?"
She doesn't really hear him. She is intoxicated by his scent and how damn close he is. He is staring at her and she is staring right back. He makes a face, telling her he is expecting an answer. She finally snaps out of her trance.
"I'm doing well," she takes a sip of her drink, "Do you wanna dance?"
"Aa," he holds out his hand. She can't help but think he would have never done this in high school. She had to drag him out on prom night. He is much more mature.
She puts her hand in his and he leads her out to the dance floor among all the other dancers. His hand rests on the small of her waist and she puts her hand on his shoulder. They sway to the soft music. He is a good dancer, she remarks, and he has improved a lot since high school. When she looks up, he is staring intently at her. He looks as if he's taking in every feature he's missed since they broke up. It's his fault, she thinks—look at her now. She is successful and proud and he is no longer haunting her every thought.
Slowly, his head tilts towards her. She continues to stare at him, not daring to interpret his actions. She sways her hips to the music and lets him guide her. When his head starts to move towards hers, she keeps her eyes on his. They don't waver and she continues to ignore the voice at the back of her mind that said, 'He's going to kiss you.' His grip on her wait tightens and his head is getting closer. Finally, she is tired of waiting and of guessing and of missing him.
She crashes her lips to his.