Date: 8/13/13
Rating: K+
Genre: Angst, Drama
Prompt: Sasuke is afraid that Sakura will be disgusted if she knew that he transplanted his brother's eyes
She stopped him on his way home from the market and blocked his path. Her arms were crossed, her foot paused mid-tap, as if she had been waiting for him for some time, making Sasuke wonder how she knew he'd planned to go shopping that day, how she knew he'd be on this particular road—one that he'd chosen specifically because he knew it was out of the way from the hospital. He frowned. Naruto.
"Have I done something wrong?" she asked.
"No, of course not," he said.
Sakura uncrossed her arms, taking a step forward. Sasuke clenched his jaw, tempted to take a step back, but remained in his spot. She didn't continue. He let out a small sigh in relief. "Then why won't you look at me?"
"I am looking at you."
She paused, inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly as she curled her fingers into two loose fists, mentally counting to five. "No, you're not, Sasuke-kun," she said stiffly, willing herself to stay calm, "My eyes are here. But you're looking there, past me. You're always looking past me. It's been like this ever since you came back, and I just want to know why." She took another deep breath. "So I'm going to ask you one more time. Have I done something to upset you?"
Damn it. Sasuke ran a hand through his hair, his lips forming a thin line, mentally slapping himself for being so foolish, for thinking so low of her. He was caught, but he should have known. It didn't matter how careful he was, or how discreet he thought he was, she noticed anyway. She always did. She always would.
And that frightened him.
"I already told you," he said, taking his eyes off the bench that was behind her, fully averting his gaze. At least, he thought sullenly, he didn't have to pretend anymore. "No."
"Then look at me."
He huffed. "Sakura—"
"Sasuke-kun, please."
She was begging now—desperate, pleading—but it didn't matter if she was on her knees or standing firmly on the ground; her voice was enough. Sasuke felt something in his chest tighten. It would be so easy, so simple, he thought. And yet, he couldn't do it; he couldn't give her what she wanted—because he was selfish; because he didn't want to see her reaction; because the eyes she so desperately wanted to look at her were gone, were no longer his. One look and she'd know. He was sure of it.
He clenched his fists. "I can't."
"Why not?" she demanded. But he gave her no answer, continuing to stare at the ground. Sakura groaned, frustrated. "You can't just say something like that without an explanation, Sasuke-kun. You have to give me a reason. I can't take this anymore. I'm not asking for a lot. I just want you to look at me." She paused, her voice softened, her voice shaking. "If this—If this is because of what happened in Iron, I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. You have to understand, I didn't—"
"You're right."
She froze. "What?"
"You're right," Sasuke repeated, almost mechanically. He took a breath. It was for the best, he told himself, for the best. "What happened in Iron, I haven't forgotten it. I thought I would be able to over time, but I don't think I can. I don't think I could forgive—even you. And," he said, looking up, but at the bench and not at her—because she at least deserved to see his face, "I think it would be best if we didn't see each other from now on."
There was a momentary pause. "No," she said quietly, so quiet he had to strain his ears to hear her, "that's not it." He saw her wipe her eyes, her head shake from side to side, her fists clench. "You're lying."
He sighed. But he wasn't surprised, the corners of his mouth turning slightly upwards. He knew he couldn't fool her; she already proved that. But, he thought, it was worth a shot. He closed his eyes. "Regardless," he said callously, "the result is the same. I don't want to see you."
Beat.
"Really, Sasuke-kun?" she asked slowly, "Is this what you really want?"
But he didn't have to think twice. Because Sakura's hatred was easier to bear than her disgust. Because he didn't think he could handle being rejected from the only person whose opinion ever really mattered to him. Because he didn't care about "what-could-have-beens."
He opened his eyes. "Yes."
She nodded. "Fine," she said tonelessly, her voice strained but her eyes dry, "Then consider your wish granted." She made a hand seal. "Goodbye, Sasuke-kun."
And just like that, in a puff of smoke, she was gone.