Found
U is for Ugly
A/N: I promise I'm going to try and update sooner.
O O O
Tired, sore, hungry, thirsty, covered in grass stains from head to toe, Sakura wandered halfway through Fire Country. Passing through the borders had been a task and a half and it left her feeling frustrated on top of everything. She didn't have a passport, proper documentation, or even any sort of ID. She'd given them her registration number, though, 012601, and after dealing with hours more of paperwork, forms, and people running to-and-fro to retrieve a copy of all shinobi registration numbers from a heavily guarded filing system, they'd allowed her entry.
It wasn't like she could blame them, though. The war had no doubt caused their reproachful demeanors, and a hassle though it was, she was glad they were taking precautionary measures. There was a certain air about her surroundings, though, an aura that left her uncomfortable and nervous, that she couldn't place. It was familiar yet foreign, and not pleasant in the least.
And queerer still, the closer she drew to Konohagakure, the more the feeling intensified. The trees were smothered by it, the air lay thick with it, and the very dirt and grass at her feet seemed to swim in it. "Death," the feeling said, "death and destruction and the eradication of all that you've ever held dear."When she'd been with Deidara, she realized, all those months, the war had taken a backseat to her life. She wasn't in it, so she hadn't thought much on it, and the pressing matter of being a hostage to two ex-Akatsuki members had taken precedence over all else. When those matters had faded, her growing love affair with one of said ex-Akatsuki had been brought to the forefront, absorbing most if not all of her time and efforts.
But now, left to herself and only her thoughts, Sakura couldn't help but entertain her macabre subconscious with worst-case scenarios. Konohagakure had been leveled, completely destroyed, and now whoever remained of her friends were dead. It was a likely option, but not the nicest.
The trees began to thicken eventually, a sign that she was drawing closer to the heart of Fire Country, and likewise, closer to her home. She hadn't been back in so long… The months now felt like years. She wondered how everyone would react to seeing her again.
She knew this neck of the woods like the back of her hand, and she estimated another couple minutes before she reached one of the outlying villages. She and the rest of Team 7 would stop there on almost every mission for a short break, whether that be for stopping in at a coffee shop, grabbing a bite to eat, or just lounging about. It was where Naruto had stolen a kiss and she'd thrown him into the water fountain, where her teacher—Kakashi—had first mistaken her for a different, older woman and sidled up to her with a low, charming, "Looking for someone?"
"Yes, Kakashi. I was actually just looking for you." Her twelve-year-old self had not been amused, and at the time, she hadn't even caught the seductive undertones of what he'd said and how he'd said it.
"Oh. Sakura." He'd tried to mask his mistake, then, much like he'd masked everything else in his life. "I didn't even recognize you with your hair like that. And you hid your chakra, I see. You've gotten very good at it."
"Thank you!"
And he'd edged awkwardly away and Sakura had beamed for the rest of the day. She couldn't blame him, though. She'd dyed her hair for the mission—stuck out like a sore thumb, they'd all said—and worn a different, less conspicuous outfit. Everyone had. But he definitely never made the same mistake again.
No, never a mistake, but when she'd drifted casually into her late teens, her early twenties, he was always the first the sneak in a dirty joke at her expense. They were sly, nonchalant jokes that Sakura often never even understood until precious moments later.
Kakashi was dead, though, and had been for quite some time. He'd always taken on the near-impossible missions, barely skirting out of the grasp of death, ducking and dodging and maneuvering and squeezing himself into tight holes, only to find ingenious ways to get himself back out again. He was, in essence, and as far as Sakura had been and still was concerned, the perfect shinobi. Cool, calm, collected; Kakashi was a façade of stillness hiding a whirlwind of emotion and passion. He may have been socially inept at times, even standoffish or a little too impartial, but the Kakashi under the Kakashi—underneath the underneath, as he was so wont to say—was someone Sakura felt privileged to know.
Dead. He was dead. One particular mission had made sure of it. Kakashi's face was etched as clearly into Sakura's mind as the words on his gravestone. She'd had time to recover, though, and she had. But that didn't mean she wasn't allowed to miss him.
She missed Kakashi so dearly at that very moment, and for the first time in a long time, she felt herself tearing up.
She shook it off, though, because the village was right in front of her, as well as a heavy sense of nostalgia. If only temporarily, the gloom previously pervading every inch of the forest lifted. It was as though the village thrived within a world of its own. People milled about every once in a while, at ease in their relatively safe hometown despite the darkness. The lights from windows of bars and late-night diners snugly illuminated patches of streets, and wherever a house was dark, the remnants of a warm fire rolled listlessly from the chimney.
As though reminding her that yes, winter was definitely well on its way, a cold breeze urged her forward. She wrapped the heavy tunic around her tighter, slowing to a walk when she entered the village.
Windows of shops since closed up for the night were fogged over, and from within one window, she could see a clock on the wall. It was nine o'clock. She'd been traveling for hours, and the only time she'd stopped was when the sun had gone down. And even then, it had only been for a bathroom break and to quickly shove a cold rice ball down her throat. Deidara made really nice rice balls, plain though they were.
She half looked for a place to eat and half allowed herself to think about Deidara. Where was he now? Had he gone back to find Kisame? Had he started off to find somewhere to finally settle? It was scary to think about how vital Deidara had become to her life, how important a component he was.
As she walked, she pulled the scope from her pocket. It was thick, heavy, and scratched. The inside of the scope, the part that attached to Deidara's face, was smooth to the touch, though, and she brought it to her face curiously. The world was tinted red through the lens.
"How do you even turn it on?" she wondered aloud, and when she pressed a button on the front, the lens whirred and then stilled. Carefully, she put the scope back to her eye, and this time everything was shaded green. Night-vision.
She stopped for a moment to slip the scope into her backpack, wrapped in a bundle of clothes. She'd have to study it later on, maybe find out exactly how it worked. She wondered if he had any more like it…
A neon bar sign above her flickered, and the moths buzzing about it, freezing, killing themselves just to taste the glow of the light, frantically scattered and then regrouped. Sakura stood beneath the sign for a long time after that, watching the moths, and she could hear limited activity inside. Soft music was playing, and she heard the distant clink of cooking utensils. Someone laughed loudly, muffled, and Sakura decided to go inside.
The door was wooden and bulky, and it scraped against the tile floor when she pushed it open. Some heads turned to her as she entered, but they turned away again slowly, disinterested. People peppered the bar in odd groups and clumps, with very few people sitting alone. Bottles of various liquors sat behind the counter, and two waitresses on duty chatted idly with customers.
A moth flew in, dazed, erratic, and Sakura shut the door behind her. She took a seat at the bar, keeping her backpack on, and smoothed back her hair. Her cheeks were cool to the touch. Her hands were cold too, but not so that it bothered her.
She fiddled with a coaster until one of the bartenders asked if she wanted anything. "A glass of water," she replied, but she suddenly wasn't so hungry anymore. She added cream cheese rangoons to her order quickly before the woman walked away.
With the attention once more gone from her, Sakura folded her arms on the table and placed her head in them delicately, taking a deep, long, shuddering breath. Her exhaled breath made it unbearably hot a few moments later, though, and she lifted it back up grudgingly, staring at some wine glasses behind the counter. The dull light glinted off them prettily, giving them an almost romantic glow. She was suddenly awfully aware of how tired she was… She set her cheek down on the bar top.
"First is sleep," Deidara was saying, slightly annoyed with her, his backed turned away from her in that cave. And then he was snoring lightly, and she was very discreetly cuddling his back for warmth.
And then Deidara was awake, and he was laughing so hard that he cried at a very hooked, very angry Kisame. Deidara was kissing Sakura near the bay, lamenting about his broken jaw, making a bust of her, standing next to her as they both said their goodbyes to Kisame.
And Sakura was taking out all of her frustrations on him.
Deidara was rolling around with her on the dirt-rock floor and hovering over her, panting, trying his best to comfort her when the emergency contraception had detrimental side-effects; he was watching her get pushed around by a handful of overconfident bandits, kissing her between cell bars, fussing over the arrow wound to her side, flicking ants at her.
And Sakura was reprimanding him for being such an idiot.
Deidara was complaining about dying his hair, calling her "Keiko" again and leading her through the village, stealing a handful of clay and two avocados, ravaging her in the elevator, pressing all the buttons to make it last longer; he was brushing his teeth and then rushing to her side when he saw her tears, having sex with her, making love, as they called it, for the very last time.
And Sakura was giving him the cold shoulder.
Deidara was stuttering over his words, fighting against himself to tell her what he needed to, chasing after her, taking her hand, getting down on a knee and offering everything he had, from his scope to his very life; he was passing off his watery eyes as allergies and warning her of his attachment to her, warning her of the depth of his affection.
And Sakura was…
And Sakura had rejected him. Again.
She clenched her fists and set them gently on the counter, moving so that her forehead rested against the wooden bar instead of her cheek. She gritted her teeth and shut her eyes tight, fighting back tears.
Why had she been such a bitch to him? She'd barely ever showed him the affection he deserved, rarely made him feel validated. And while he was constantly showering her with all of this, just saying whatever came to mind--and sometimes that wasn't a good thing--she was just holding it all inside. She wondered just how much it had tormented him.
A tear fell to the counter, pooling into the cracks in the polished wood. "I love you," she murmured, squeezing her fists tighter. "Why didn't I tell you that more?"
She thought about him now and how much courage it must have taken him to ask her to marry him. She thought about how he had been at the start of their relationship and how he'd turned out, how much he'd changed. And she thought about herself, and she felt ashamed.
The bartender slid Sakura's order in front of her, not saying a word. She was obviously used to this kind of thing.
Sakura slammed back her water and devoured the rangoons, searching for anything to get her mind off of Deidara. "This is it," she said, sniffling. "After this, there is no more." And she definitely wasn't talking about the rangoons.
She rubbed at her eyes with the heels of her palms and then tilted back, staring up at the ceiling. She counted the rotations of the slowly spinning ceiling fan one, two, three, four, five, six, seven times before someone tapped her on the shoulder and a familiar sensation washed over her.
Chakra. Distinct chakra. Comforting chakra.
Rock Lee's chakra.
She spun around so fast she almost fell out of the chair, and a much older-looking, much more tired-looking Rock Lee looked startled that it was Sakura who was sitting before him.
She stood up quickly, her hands itching to touch him, hug him. "Lee?"
"Sakura! I thought I recognized you!" He refrained from touching her, though she could see he wanted to hug or hold her, as well.
So she broke the strain and threw her arms around him, and he returned the embrace in kind, and she held him tighter than anybody she'd ever held before. Here was a piece of her past, showing up at the most opportune of moments, and she never wanted to let him go.
"Sakura, are you alright? Are you hurt? Where have you been?" he asked, demanded, pulling her back from him and holding her at arms' length. "You were listed as dead."
She bit her bottom lip and shook her head. "No, I'm not dead. I--I'm fine, Lee." She took his hands in hers. "Let's go outside."
He followed her out, and she released his hands, and they fell in step beside each other. They didn't talk for quite a while, simply relished in each other's presence.
Finally, Sakura glanced at him. "Tell me what's been happening, Lee. I've missed so much." And by the way his expression darkened, she figured the news wasn't going to be good. But she was still so excited about seeing him, and nothing was going to put a damper on that. Hopefully.
She prepared for the worst when he shifted nervously.
Lee sighed heavily, hands deep in the pockets of the large overcoat he wore. Flashes of that green suit peeked through the collar. "A lot of things have changed since your absence, Sakura."
She took a slow step, purposefully stepping on a stray leaf. It crunched under her foot gently. "I can imagine. Even if I wasn't gone that long…a whole life can turn around in the span of a second."
He was silent after this, and Sakura watched a handful of difficult emotions play across his face. Anxiety tugged at her heart.
"Lee…"
He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye.
"Lee, who died?"
She saw him swallow, saw him turn his head to the sky and watch the clouds swim over the stars. A cold breeze stirred his hair, and he closed his eyes.
"Lee," Sakura demanded, voice already breaking. She didn't like his hesitation. Lee never hesitated like this. "Lee, who--"
"Naruto."
The words died in her throat. "Naruto…?"
"Naruto is dead," Lee repeated somberly, lowering his face to the ground. "And Sai."
"Sai?" Sakura repeated, shocked, too overwhelmed by all of these revelations to do more than gape. Her brain had shut itself down in an effort to protect itself, it seemed, and the fact that she wasn't already sobbing was a testament to this fact. "I can't… How?"
"After Naruto, Sai, and Yamato lost you, they regrouped and returned to the village. You can imagine how averse to this Naruto was."
Sakura's frown twitched lower, and her eyes watered. The walls were breaking already.
"Shortly afterward, Konohagakure was attacked. Several groups of Sound-nin infiltrated the village and managed to gain an upper hand."
"Is that how Naruto and Sai--"
"--and countless others, Sakura, you can't forget about the civilians--"
"--died?" She sat down on a nearby bench, and her legs felt weak. She was so tired all of a sudden, as though she would fall asleep any moment. All of the information Lee had given her was weighing on her like a thousand sins, like the whole war was her fault alone. But at least they hadn't died while on a rescue mission for her.
"They headed off a group of shinobi at the Hokage tower, but even with Tsunade helping, there were simply too many. They--"
"Don't tell me how they died," Sakura said quickly, whispering, head in her hands. "Please don't."
Lee's face softened and he sat beside her, looking just as weary as she. "They died with honor, Sakura. This I can assure you."
She fell onto him, face in his arm, crying silently, willing the tears to stop. All the time she had been out messing around with Deidara, acting silly, trying to escape, but not really as time wore on, and her friends had been dying. Konoha had been crumbling. Maybe if she would have just been there to help, she could have done something.
"There was nothing that could have been done," Lee said softly, and he kept his hands respectfully to himself, though he allowed her to touch him as much as she liked. "They were… There was nothing you could have done." His words formed fog in the cold air, swirling, disappearing quickly.
She continued to cry into his arm, her thoughts running frantically in her head. If only she would have left Deidara sooner, if only she wouldn't have sat next to him in that bayou, if only, if only, if only--
"Are you cold?" he asked her, shifting slightly, and she picked herself up, shaking her head.
"No, I'm fine." She sniffled. "Thank you." They were dead now. Just like Kakashi, just like so, so many others. Her insides felt like they were boiling or melting or both.
"I want to know what happened to you," Lee began carefully, leaning back into the bench. "Who captured you? Were you harmed?"
"Rogue bandits," she answered quickly, and everything was quickly growing foggy and fuzzy and unintelligible. She was thankful for the alibi. As terrible as she felt about lying to Lee, she couldn't give away Deidara. The fact that he was alive would somehow get out, and she couldn't handle it if she found out Deidara was killed, too. "I--they injected me with something that kept me unconscious and held me in a prison." And at least it wasn't entirely untruthful. She was, admittedly, omitting quite a few things.
"Were you injured?" he repeated, furrowing his brow.
"No," she answered, shaking her head. "Nothing serious. I was wounded by an arrow, but I healed myself." She rubbed her eyes, sighing.
"I am here with Hinata and the surviving Hyuugas," Lee said, folding his arms and looking out at a store across from where they sat. "We are escorting the family and a number of civilians to an alternate Hyuuga compound."
"Where is Hinata now?" Sakura asked desperately.
"Likely at the inn," he said, standing, and Sakura stood with him. "Our plans are to continue to the compound tomorrow. It is not far from here."
Sakura smiled gently, despite it all. "You don't have to be so formal, Lee. Really."
And he smiled back just a little. "Will you accompany us?"
"Yes. Of course." She didn't want to be alone, definitely not after all that happened. Definitely not after she'd left Deidara. Definitely not after her village, her home, had been all but destroyed. Definitely not after learning that Rock Lee and Hinata were two of the only people she had left to depend upon.
"You can stay at the inn where we are staying," he said, and he led her down the dark streets toward a tall building, three or four stories high, lit only by small square of light that peppered its side. "I will wake you in the morning."
"You don't have to do this, Lee," she began to protest, but he cut her off at the jump.
"Think of it as a welcome home gift."
He paid for her room at the desk and took her to the second floor, opening the room with a key and closing the door behind them.
Sakura crawled into bed immediately and pulled the blankets over her, dirty clothes and all. She didn't care anymore. All she wanted was the promise of sleep, and with it, the promise of a peace of mind that she rarely achieved.
Rock Lee smiled and set the key on her nightstand. "Goodnight, Sakura."
She looked up at him from under her nest of blankets. "Lee, will you stay in here? I don't…really want to be alone. You know?"
He was quiet for a moment. "I understand," he said, though he didn't make any move to sit down or indicate that he was staying. "But I cannot." He held up a contradicting finger and smiled tiredly. "It is improper for a man to spend the night in a woman's room unless he is married to that woman."
Sakura sighed and laughed weakly.
"So if we were to be married, Sakura, I would be more than happy to stay the night in your room! We can make arrangements to be married tomorrow at the earliest, Sakura; I am quite certain that the Hyuugas would be more than happy to accommodate us--"
Sakura rolled over. "Goodnight, Lee," she deadpanned. Two marriage proposals in two days. What a lucky gal. And her heart ached at the irony.
She heard him laugh a little, and then heard the door click when he closed it behind him.
And her thoughts drifted over Konohagakure, over Sai and Naruto, over their deaths and what Lee had said. And the tears came and the tears went, and with her face still pressed hard into the pillow, hot, suffocating, in that wonderful medium between sleep and awareness. And her thoughts fell instantly upon Deidara, and the tears threatened to come again, and she bit them back, and she felt a painful throb of guilt for thinking about Deidara when he was still alive and her friends were dead.
And it surprised even her to realize that Deidara was a friend too. He'd become just as important as Naruto and Sai in those few brief months that she'd known him, grown close to him, been with him.
"Took you long enough to realize it, yeah," she heard him say, somewhere deep inside her head, and she laughed through the tears.