Chapter Eight: American Mouth

A/N: Very short Author's Note at the end. Thanks.

Disclaimer: I do not own the song featured here, nor the manga/anime Naruto

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

He could feel the burn in his thighs, in his stomach, in his arms. If Sasuke kept going, he knew it would spread to his lungs and chest next. But, like always, he didn't care. Not about the beads of sweat rolling down from his neck to the arch of his back. And not about the painful dryness of his throat.

He just keeps running.

On and on.

Just let it all burn.

During one of his sessions with his therapist— okay, that one time he actually went, the man said something about taking up a hobby. Something he could keep himself busy with, something he could lose himself in. And Sasuke thought: running.

He always used to love doing that when he was a kid.

He used to run with Itachi in the woods of their estate, though he never was fast enough, never was strong enough, to catch up to him… He'd watch Itachi's retreating back, the swinging of his long hair. Until Itachi would inevitably stop and turn, smile and wait for him to… to what? To think that he'd be able to reach him, only to see that he's once again moving further and further away?

There was just something about running that felt like he was completely in control of his actions. Only he decides where to go and when to stop, even if his body was begging him for rest. In a way, it made him feel… free.

It was the only thing in his life that he could control at the moment, and everyone needs at least that.

Sasuke stops and leans on a tree, the rough bark gashing the skin on his arm, his breath coming out in bursts. Another bonus of this was the damn view. He was high enough to see most of the town— high enough that when he breathed in, he could taste the cold and the pines. Even from afar, he could still see the waters of Lake Okugi reflecting the mid-morning sun. And it hurt just to look at it.

He wonders, today, is he still running to catch up to someone? Or is he doing this to leave something behind?

Whichever it was, visions of pink and green dance inside his head without him even trying. Because of course it would… Because of course she would. There's not much he does or sees today that doesn't make him think of Sakura.

He passed by the fair the other day and he started imagining her hair as cotton candy.

Suigetsu, that ass, brought roses for whichever lady officer he was harassing for the week and Sasuke thought, he'd have been better off giving her cherry blossoms.

Sakura's only moved in a day or two, but he's already rearranging his schedule just for her. In that he'd manage to not see her in the past two days since he brought her home. And he's man enough not to deny the fact that he's… scared— scared to know if it would still be like she never left. If he'd ever come home to the smell of her cooking in the kitchen or if he'd stumble on one of her shirts, that smell so much like her, lying around.

But he also knows that… he'd be even more scared to find that he wouldn't recognize the stranger he's let stay inside his home.

Sasuke sighs and pushes himself off the tree.

Up here, as he takes it all in, Sasuke hopes that someday… he'd be able to find that he's already run enough, long enough, to finally stop.

"Sasuke!"

The aforementioned, irate police chief rues the day.

"Hey Sasuke-teme, wait up!"

In fact Sasuke curses the day that he met the loudmouth blonde. The one he's apparently engaged in a bromance with, not the female counterpart Sakura is lugging around with her. Though he would probably feel the same about Ino if she was bugging him right now.

Is Naruto stupid enough to be lost after a couple of turns around the building? No, unfortunately, probably not.

"What," Sasuke starts as he abruptly turns to Naruto, "do you want dobe?"

"I have— damn it Sasuke you walk too fast!"

He contemplates just leaving Naruto while he's catching his breath, but he knows the dobe would never leave him alone. What could be so urgent that he'd go to the station, during office hours no less?

"Sasuke, we have to talk."

There's a hint of seriousness that's so uncharacteristic of the blonde that he just finds himself agreeing. Sasuke closes the blinds when they enter his office. Even though the blonde visiting is a regular occurrence, he knows Naruto would want to say it— whatever it is he wanted to say, in private.

Maybe it was about Hinata again. Had Naruto finally figured it out?

"I… I'm going to ask Hinata-chan to marry me."

He couldn't help raising an eyebrow. "Uh… congratulations?"

"Damn it teme, I'm not screwing around here!"

"I didn't say that you were, idiot! I just—" Sasuke massaged the ridge between his eyes as a precaution for the coming migraine. "Just a few days ago you were so worried about her cheating on you and now you want to tie yourself to her?"

Sasuke knows that Hinata isn't cheating on his best friend, and he shouldn't have any problems about this. If they get married, then problem solved. Hinata has a baby daddy and Naruto gets his happily ever fucking after. What he does have a problem with is the blonde's naivety and the overall, finicky way he makes his decisions.

"Look, I know it's kinda' crazy. You said she's not seeing someone else, but I knowshe's hiding something from me." Naruto sighs and scratches the back of his head. "And the way I see it, if she says yes, then she's not having an affair and I can just ask her… If she doesn't, well then, I'd know."

"Yeah… You'd know."

As Naruto crosses the door of his office, Sasuke notices the way his shoulders are squared— he's practically bracing himself for impact. He supposes… Naruto isn't the same idiot who skipped classes all the time in highschool.

"Hey, dobe… You know what you want, right?"

Blue against black, smirk against smirk.

"Of course… and you better believe I want Hinata!"

"Sasuke, you like her don't you?"

He remembers what she asked him… though not if she said anything else.

But he remembered sitting on the window sill, feeling the dull cold of the glass against his face in contrast to the warm glow of the setting sun. There was an undeniable sense of peace that he would always strive to recreate in the later years. Those damnable years after that night. Those years after she left.

What did he fucking know though? It was the glory days, and it would always be remembered through rose tinted glasses, as most wonderful things are viewed.

For all he knew, it was just the silence that he was enjoying.

Well, not really.

There was a small, crawling desperation in Sakura's voice— one that threatened to eat away not only at her, but also at him. He could feel her giving up, and he didn't even know what she was giving up on. She was going to walk farther and farther away from his reach.

Down below there was a girl, tall and willowy as a reed, a breath of fresh air.

Asami.

He remembers what she asked him… but he never knew what she really meant.

Can't a man eat lunch in peace?

"You're an asshole you know. Don't think I don't know what you're planning."

Always nice to see you Ino. Not.

He watches as the woman unabashedly sits in the chair opposite him in the booth. Ino never was a fan of niceties or propriety. She pretty much said whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted, if it benefited her. And she never started an argument she didn't think she'd win.

So which would it be for today, Sasuke wondered.

"Yes, please, take the seat. Are you going to order or would you like to take my food too?"

If sarcasm could kill, Ino would be drowning in the thickly laid insinuation. But alas, even coupled with his patented death glare, she would not budge. Hell, the woman even has the nerve to deadpan him.

Fine. He'll play her game.

In between bites of noodles, he asks her about this nefarious plan he's supposed to have made, and assumes it's about Sakura. Sasuke thought that surely she'd waste no time to jump at him, enumerate the many ways he's thought of bedding her delicate bestfriend and leaving her out to dry, how he's planning to somehow break up Sakura's relationship— all this for some fucking revenge plot.

None of it would have surprised him because… he's thought of it all himself. God, he's wrestled with doing all of it every night since she came back. The fact that she was so close... Would she still be as soft as he fantasized in his dreams? Would she make the same delicious noises? And would that bastard boyfriend of hers know these things about her?

How fucking pathetic of him to think of her being back in his house as her actually being back in his life.

But whatever reaction he expected Ino to have, it wasn't this. The way she's looking at him— eyes soft while peering at him, looking for who the fuck knows what; her mouth, pursing as if she's fighting off the words.

Sasuke wipes his mouth with a tissue and carelessly throws it in front of Ino. Fuck this, he didn't need to be thrown a fucking pity party.

But Ino grips his arm before he can fully leave.

"Do you think Sakura's happy?"

Sasuke sighs. He grabs his arm from Ino and decides to sit back down, much to his own amazement. "How would I know Yamanaka?"

"Maybe because you're living with her?" Sasuke raises an eyebrow at the sudden rising of her voice and he nearly swats her index finger when she shoves it in his face. "You— You've always been good at knowing what she's thinking. Sure, you were oblivious to her feelings, but you were always the one who understood her best."

He always understood her best?

What a load of bullshit that was.

Sakura was probably more of a mystery to him than to anyone else.

These days, Sakura's just a jumbled up jigsaw puzzle made up of all the things he could still remember about her— her sugary perfume, the way her cheeks turn ruddy when she's angry, the way her face fell when she left— and how he felt about her afterwards— anger, guilt… regret.

And he can't get a clear picture of her because she's taken a few of the pieces herself.

"Well?"

"I don't know. We haven't had time to talk yet… What has she told you?"

There have been many times in the past when Sasuke would have gladly given away his left arm just to hear news about Sakura. And nearly just as many times where he would berate himself for thinking it. And now that Ino's actually filling in the missing years, Sasuke finds that he's just as conflicted.

He folds his hands under his chin as he absorbs every detail. Part of him is glad for her— fucking elated even. Becoming a doctor is too big a dream for anyone in a small town like Konoha. But leave it to someone as unexpected as Sakura to defy the norms. He still remembers the nights she'd keep him and Naruto awake while talking about the advances in medicine and the many, many children in third world countries she'd be able to help. The whole night, they'd just talk about their plans for the future, the many things that they could do with their lives.

And after all that, she'd taken away his and everyone else's chance to celebrate that achievement with her. Was it petty that he felt cheated? She was as much a part of their lives as they were in hers. Or at least, he thought they mattered as much.

Che.

He listens with as much forbearance as he could muster, with his heart beating in his chest so hard for who knows what reason (anger, he tells himself) and his hands growing cold and clammy.

Sasuke couldn't get away from there fast enough.

But the blonde in front of him stops talking, as if she could sense his malevolence— she probably could, and takes one hand in hers. "Remember in highschool, when Sakura's mom died and Tsunade-sama wanted to take her to Suna… but she chose to stay. I know that you know it wasn't just because she'd miss her friends or highschool."

Sasuke nodded. He remembered that year. His parents were… gone and Itachi had just left to take up his master's degree. He remembered the dust from Itachi's black pick-up truck as it drove down the driveway and into the horizon, all the while wondering how it would finally feel to be alone in that house. But it never came, because there was never a day where Sakura or Naruto wouldn't come over to check-up on him.

"Sakura didn't leave because… she wanted to make surethat you were okay— that you were happy. Wouldn't you do the same for her?"

He looked into Ino's pleading eyes; she was practically begging him to do something, anything.

And all he could think of was that Sakura did leave.

And he didn't see her taking him or his happiness into consideration when she did.

A scratchy groan escapes his throat.

How the fuck did he get in bed?

Whose bed is he in?

Oh right. It was the blasted whiskey.

And the heated night air. And the way she stuck to him, her arms circling around his neck. Damn it.

Sasuke sank back into the bed, so much more aware of the other body beside his. His memory may be hazy but he had no doubt that things played out just like it always did most nights. He'd go to a bar and lo and behold, Karin would be there.

She's never there when he arrives but sure as day, she'd be wrapping herself around him before the night is over. It's like she could sense him, if that was at all plausible. But hey, never underestimate a fangirl.

Weirdly enough though, she never flaunted their "relationship"— if anyone could call it that (God knows he doesn't), like he'd expect other fangirls would. It's probably just strategy. She knows how private he is and if no one knew, he wouldn't have a reason to terminate this… mutual service.

Stretching on his back, careful not to touch any part of Karin, Sasuke briefly considered not checking up on Naruto's big night. He's a big boy now, he can handle himself. He definitely didn't need him to hold his hand while he proposed to the soon-to-be mother of his child.

But if he knew his friends, they definitely wouldn't be able to give the couple some space. They'd all be there for some reason or another, no matter how convoluted.

And she would be there…

As quietly as possible, Sasuke rolls down the side of the bed. If he woke Karin up, he wouldn't be able to get rid of her for the rest of the night. And even though they were cousins, he doubted even Naruto would want the redhead there.

Without looking back, Sasuke makes his way into the night.

He feels like Scrooge. With the bloody ghost of Christmas Future.

Across the street from the restaurant, he looks in through the window to see that his friends had already started the celebration. He can imagine the bubbly sound of champagne being poured from the bottles, the clinking of glass, and the general merriment his friends usually brought with them. It almost feels surreal, like this was what the future would be without him. But then, he thinks, this is probably how they always are without him.

He sighs. Guess he missed the big proposal anyway.

Sasuke notices Sakura at the bar, alone. Even amidst the flurry of movement and excitement around, she still stood out like a beacon of light. And it wasn't because she's set herself apart from everyone else, choosing to sit quietly with a glass in hand.

No.

He's familiar with that slackness of her shoulders and the tension along her back as she cradles her head with her unoccupied hand. The lazy way she swirls her drink in her other hand, the loneliness radiating off of her with a gentle thrumming.

That was always how Sasuke saw her, back in those days before she left.

The echo of Ino's question reverberated in his mind. Was she happy?

Does she fucking look like it?

But what did he know? Happiness is, after all, overrated.

Without even thinking about it, Sasuke walked past the door and headed for her, almost like he's being pulled. He can't remember if he ever… talked to her, before, when she was like this. Or did he, like a complete asshole, just feigned ignorance?

Yes, that sounded more like him.

"You look deep in thought."

By the way she starts, it's obvious she didn't expect him to come at all. She says as much, with a nonchalance he knows she's only faking.

He watches her, her slightly glazed eyes roving his person. What does she see?

Did she notice the equally dazed look in his eyes? Or maybe the rumpled result of the clumsy way he put his clothes back on? Does she smell the intoxicating scent of alcohol on him or was the scotch she's holding masking it?

This sudden urge to know what she's thinking of him is deeply unnerving. Especially since he still couldn't make heads or tails about her… What the fuck is Haruno Sakura doing back in his life again?

She's not unwelcome. Obviously. Or he wouldn't have invited her to stay at his house.

And he can't say that he's unhappy with their little arrangement, despite the fact that he's been tiptoeing around his own house these past few days. Knowing that she's there — it was fucking annoying and thrilling and everything in between.

And Sakura…

"Are you happy Sakura?"

He didn't mean to ask it aloud. And what did that even mean?

Was she happy with her new life?

Was she happy (happier) that she's back?

Was she happy now?

He can see it in his eyes, and in the slight crinkle between her brows. She's weighing the question, wondering exactly what he meant just as he had. But then… nothing. She throws the question away, like she threw him and everyone else aside.

"Why do you care Sasuke?" she asks, her voice barely rising above a whisper.

He chuckles and whispers something in her ear before he leaves.

"I've always cared Sakura."

He asked Sakura once, why she even bothered coming long after the others had stopped.

"Why do you care Sakura?"

Those were the days when he didn't even know what date it was, when he didn't even know if the day had ended or just started. He didn't even have the strength to leave his room or his bed. All of it, it just passed him by like a drowsy blur.

He wondered… how everything could continue going on as it was when his world had figuratively crashed. But then, those were always the thoughts of the victims of tragedies. Weren't they?

So why not experience every cliché, the whole fucking she-bang?

He drank himself stupid. He roamed around his house trying to slam and smash and destroy as many and all things that reminded him of Itachi or Asami. He'd have taken up smoking again if he could've gotten away with it (of course, when Sakura left, there was no one stopping him anymore).

Did it help? Fuck yes. And then… no.

It's not like he was a fucking grief savant. He at least knew better than to bottle it up.

But still, he wanted it all to stop.

He wanted the memories and the voices in his head to disappear.

He wanted to just die.

Cause there were days, dark days, when everything hit him just like it did the first time.

So why did she keep coming back? If he couldn't even keep himself together, there was no way someone else was going to manage it for him.

But her answer was always the same.

"I've always cared Sasuke."

He wakes up before his alarm could ring. He's doubtful that he managed to sleep at all actually. It felt like he'd just closed his eyes, trying to forget the way everything last night just suffocated him, and suddenly he was catapulted right into the next morning. It almost felt unfair. It's probably the most sleep he's gotten in a while and he didn't even feel it.

Barefoot and in pajamas, he goes down to cook breakfast, as was his routine. Maybe Sakura's up. Kami, he hopes she wasn't. It's too early in the morning to deal with life. So when he came to the open kitchen door, he sure didn't expect, well, Sakura gyrating to music he couldn't hear while spreading jam on a piece of bread.

He's been so used to living alone all these years that the simple fact that a girl— Sakura for that matter, is making a sandwich on his kitchen counter top is just so… fascinating. Add in the fact that the silly woman is oblivious to his presence, earphones in place, and is dancing to whatever top 40s song she's listening to (K-Pop is popular these days, right?), well would anyone fault him for being slightly voyeuristic?

But all good things must come to an end and damn it, Sakura's standing in front of the coffeemaker. Sasuke steps forward and into the kitchen. "Hey."

Much to Sasuke's chagrin, Sakura nearly drops the bread knife and colours a dark shade of pink. But in line with the delicate friendship they've been trying to forge the whole week, she doesn't curse or shout at him in embarrassment. No matter how much she wanted to, so Sasuke noticed.

Instead she says good morning and smiles that smile— a corner of her lips only slightly quirked because she's not sure she should be smiling, and the small dimple on her cheek that that creates, and her eyes! Just so brightand inviting and all that he fucking isn't— and he knows he just has to look away.

In that instance, the voices in his head telling him what an idiot he actually is and all of Ino's words the night before fell together like puzzle pieces.

This is never going to work is it? It probably never did.

Because she will always smile that smile and he'll always want it for himself.

Kami, what a miserable bastard he is, because he realizes that he'll never do anything about it.

Maybe a few days ago, he would have. What he'd do exactly he doesn't know. Sweep her from under her boyfriend's nose? Tell her no matter how hard that damn it he did care for her once, then, now? Force her to admit that she is still in love with him?

But now, it would never be right. Because they're both a fucking mess and he's probably the one who lit the fuse and counted to three until they exploded.

And looking at her now, humming and smiling to herself… she's happy right? She's at peace, right?

How's that for a morning revelation?

Sasuke lets out the breath he didn't realize he was holding, and it doesn't seem like Sakura noticed his little moment either. In fact, it doesn't seem like she's noticing much of anything at all. It doesn't look like he's going to get to the coffeemaker without getting elbowed or slapped.

As a last ditch effort, he eases himself behind Sakura and puts both hands on her waist only so he could guide her away. He can feel the way she stiffens for a split second before turning in his arms. She smiles at him like she's just noticing him, innocent, enticing, and so fucking close, he could feel her breath fanning his face.

When he finally kisses her, he realizes again that he never had a choice.

A/N:

Okay. So it's been a really long while. Like, really long. I guess I just got caught up with life. What was it they said? Life is what happens when your busy making plans… or something. All I gotta say is that it was thesis work, relationship, destruction of that relationship, and then the subsequent wallowing for a few weeks.

I'm sorry. To the people who really liked this story. And I guess to my craft as well.

This chapter has actually been months in the making, if you can believe it. And if you noticed, it's a parallel chapter of the previous one. Hence the song title, which is just the second half of "Flightless Bird, American Mouth."

I don't think it's as strong as the previous chapters. I'm not sure. It kinda feels like bits and pieces stuck together. But I'm working on it. Don't worry, I'm never abandoning this. After all, this story bloomed in a time where I thought I'd never be able to be creative ever again. So. Yeah.

Oh, and special mention to Meemy-chan who has been sort of hounding me to continue. Yeeeeey Meemy-chan.

Enjoy!