It was a Friday evening, and Sakura was exhausted. Ino had begged her to go out with her, and Sakura had only felt marginally guilty for making up a bullshit excuse. Instead of sipping 14 cosmos with Ino, she couldn't wait to sink into a piping hot bath. She had downloaded a new book on her Kindle, and she planned to read in the bath until she was pruny and light-headed.
She was just getting out of her car to head into her apartment when she heard a voice calling her name. It was familiar, but she didn't have time to fully register how she knew it. Within seconds of turning around, she felt her heart leap in shock and then freeze in her chest. If she'd been at the hospital, they'd be calling a code because, surely, she was in cardiac arrest. For a moment, she thought she was hallucinating as she stared at the man in front of her.
She heard her own unnaturally high-pitched voice in her ears, but she hadn't even realized she'd spoken. "Sasuke??" She had gasped in a manner that was simultaneously subdued and shrill.
Sakura was frozen in place. She had always imagined what she'd do if she saw him again. For a while, she'd assumed it would be violent. She could hardly imagine a scenario where she didn't punch him into the next century. Perhaps over the years, that anger had ebbed. There was a time when her predominant feeling about Sasuke's desertion had been sadness. Then fury. As the years drew on, those feelings multiplied in complexity. On any given day, she hardly knew what she felt— heartbreak, rage, shame, abandonment, nostalgia, remorse, even understanding.
Now that the moment was here, it wasn't anger that propelled her forward as he approached her. She felt herself move toward him, and before she knew it, her arms were wrapped around him, and he was tightening his grip on her, and they were hugging.
She hardly had time to register that the Sasuke Uchiha she had known didn't hug.
She stumbled back gracelessly and looked up at the man she hadn't seen since she was a teenager. Still gorgeous.
In complete astonishment, Sakura took in the man several yards away from her. The familiar features she had memorized. He looked the same. But different. Instead of boyband hair, he looked…. Dare she say white collar?
A barrage of half-formed questions assaulted her mind, but she could hardly sort through them well enough to articulate any of them.
He looked down at her intensely, and she was sure she looked like an idiot, gaping and blinking wildly. She finally forced herself to speak.
"Wha–what are you doing here?" She stuttered, her heart still pounding erratically.
"I wanted to talk," he answered, almost casually, like his presence was no big deal. Like she wasn't about to drown in her own shock. Like it hadn't been ten years since he'd spoken a word to her.
Sakura attempted to collect herself and match his quotidian demeanor. She hugged her purse closer and looked down to find her keys. "Oh, yeah, um sure… You can, uh…. Yeah, you can come in," she started moving toward her door and gestured for him to follow. "It's probably kind of a mess. Work has been crazy this week, and I let the apartment get away from me," she trailed off, knowing, despite her self-consciousness, he wouldn't actually care.
As Sakura led him to her door, her brain still fuzzy, she couldn't extinguish her internal panic about the state of her apartment. Her kitchen would be pristine because she hardly had time to eat at home during the week, but she was sure there would be laundry scattered haphazardly and old La Croix cans and coffee mugs she'd left from the day before.
"It's fine," he said quietly, "I'm sorry to stop in unannounced,"
Sakura could have choked on her own tongue at that. After ten years, he was sorry he was popping in? Something about the comment seemed so wildly unsuited for their current predicament she didn't even attempt to respond. She turned her key in her apartment door and let it swing open so he could follow her inside. She threw her purse down on a small table to the left of the door and walked toward the kitchen.
"Can I get you anything?" she asked, praying she had something more to offer than water. She grimaced as she saw a lone can of hard seltzer. "I have water, and, um…"
"I'm fine, thank you," he said politely from the other side of her kitchen island, sparing her from admitting that her kitchen was embarrassingly barren.
"I might have a bottle of wine, actually…" She closed the refrigerator and opened up the door to her pantry, where she was pretty sure she'd stashed a bottle a friend had gifted her.
Her statement was initially met with silence, and then his baritone voice broke her busy shuffling.
"I'm two years sober, actually," she heard Sasuke say quietly. She stopped fumbling and turned to look at him, quickly stifling her surprise.
"Oh. Okay. Well, why don't we go sit then," she said awkwardly. She straightened and led him out of her tiny kitchen and into her living room. They both sat on the couch (the only piece of furniture she owned that wasn't a hand-me-down from her parents), and she tucked one scrub-clad leg under her and turned toward him, trying to think of what to say.
Fortunately, she didn't need to. Sasuke beat her to it.
"You're a doctor," he said. She looked up and saw a small smile on his lips. She couldn't help grinning back before bashfully looking back at her hands.
"Yeah," she chewed on her lip, allowing herself a handful of seconds to acknowledge her accomplishment. Most days, she felt like she had so far to go. She often felt incompetent, and usually, she qualified her M.D. with the quick addition that she was "only" a resident. Still, when she compared where she was now to where she had been the last time she saw Sasuke, she couldn't help but feel a flicker of pride.
"Naruto said you helped deliver Boruto," Sasuke jerked Sakura out of her own thoughts.
"Oh, you saw Naruto?" She shouldn't be surprised. Of course, he'd go to see his best friend first.
Sasuke nodded, "I didn't know how to find anyone, so I sat in Ichiraku until I saw someone. I guess I'm lucky he's still an addict,"
Sakura laughed lightly, "he still goes there all the time. He'll probably convince Hinata to have Boruto baptized in Ichiraku Rainforest Blend."
Sasuke's lip quirked, and she couldn't help but relish the sight. She had always tried so hard to make him smile.
"So, what's it like being a doctor?" He asked, more conversationally than she had ever known Sasuke to be. She was fascinated by this new charisma. The way he leaned forward with his forearms on his knees, sleeves rolled up, looking like he was on the edge of his seat, ready to hear what she had to say. It was the exact opposite of the despondent teen she'd known.
She smiled at the loaded question. Her love-hate relationship with medicine fluctuated hourly.
Sakura was a second-year OBGYN resident, and she could safely say healthcare was fucked. It wasn't necessarily the attending physicians, the administrators, the med students, non-compliant patients, pharmaceutical companies, or insurance companies that made it suck. No, it was no single entity. It was how it all came together to create a massive dumpster fire ignited by selfishness, pride, revenue units, and propofol.
She worked unethical hours because the attending physicians expected it, but she lied on formal documentation because it would violate hospital policy.
When she made mistakes that impacted her patients, she thought about it incessantly until she thought she'd go insane.
Still, Sakura was proud to be a doctor. After years of being low on the totem pole and feeling incompetent, she was finally beginning to feel like she knew what she was doing. Some days, she even felt like she could break through the constraints of the healthcare system and actually help people.
"It's hard but worth it." She said thoughtfully, playing with the pink sleeve of her shirt.
He smirked, and her heart clenched at the familiar quirk of his lips that used to make her heart flutter. "Scrubs suit you,"
Sakura smiled back and met his dark eyes with her own. "What do you do?"
They spent the next hour telling each other about their lives and the time they spent apart. Sakura wasn't surprised that Sasuke had struggled, but she was surprised by what he struggled with. He had always been so fastidious and even neurotic about certain things. She couldn't imagine him addicted to drugs. She couldn't imagine him in legal trouble—particularly the buttoned-up, collared-shirt-wearing man sitting next to her.
She was caught off guard by his honesty. His openness, but she could tell it didn't come easily to him. It was like he was forcing himself to share parts of himself with her that he'd rather bury. She wasn't really sure why.
The tips of his ears were pink with shame as he told her about his sentencing. She reached out, desperate to alleviate some of his embarrassment, and she grabbed his hand with her own.
"You said you've been two years sober, though. It seems like you're doing really well."
He nodded solemnly and told her about the ways he was reclaiming his life.
"Would you believe me if I told you I do yoga now?" He chuckled. Sakura laughed,
"I believe you, but I definitely can't envision it." Their light laughter melted away into silence that had Sakura fidgeting with her scrubs again. She was tempted to make a joke about his endeavors with tree pose, but she decided she'd had enough beating around the bush. She was confused, and she wanted to know what was going on. Why had he come back to Konoha now?
"So, um, why are you here?"
He looked up at her with a characteristic blank expression she remembered so well, "I told you I wanted to talk."
"Oh, no, I didn't mean why you're here here. I meant, why are you in Konoha in the first place?"
He met her gaze with a small quirk of his lips, "I'm in Konoha to see you,"
Sakura's eyes widened. Her mind felt fuzzy, and she couldn't suppress her confusion. She didn't know where he lived or how far he came to see her, but no matter the distance, she couldn't imagine his intent.
There had been a point in time when Sakura had expected him to come back. The first three or four years he was gone, she was sure he'd eventually come home and tell them where he'd been.
Eventually, Sakura grew up. She lost her childish idealism and realized she had been used by a very mentally ill teenager who never truly cared about her. She'd learned to crush any illusions that some of her feelings for him had maybe been reciprocated.
It didn't make sense that someone who tossed her aside would come back specifically to talk to her so many years later.
She blinked and took a deep breath. She needed to keep herself together, even though his presence in her apartment was enough to make her hands tremble if she thought about it too hard.
"Okay." She nodded, allowing her gaze to drift to a small succulent on her coffee table.
She heard him inhale and shift in his seat, but she didn't look up until she felt callused fingers take her own in his hand. Her breath froze in her chest, and all she could do was stare back at his dark eyes and try not to notice the slight tremble of his own hands.
"Sakura, I…" she watched him swallow nervously, and it was like watching a completely different person— the way his unguarded nervousness was displayed on his face. "I want you to know how truly sorry I am. For—for so many things," he paused again, and she found herself taking in a shaky breath at the same time as him, her brows furrowing as she tried to listen without allowing her own confused thoughts to distract from what he was saying. "I'm sorry I didn't say goodbye." His voice came out barely above a whisper.
Sakura felt her breath leave her lungs and the threatening sting of impending tears. Whatever friendly façade she'd been able to maintain was slowly harder to keep up. His words triggered all of the emotions she tried to suppress, but she refused to let them show. It had been ten years, for God's sake. Crying would be pathetic. It would be humiliating for him to know how long it took her to recover from what happened—that she was still recovering.
"For a long time, I thought I should be sorry that I was with you at all. I felt like being with you was something I should regret because I wasn't mature enough or stable enough to be the kind of person you deserved. I took you down with me. Like I just took all of my depression and did whatever I could to make you as unhappy as I was. I genuinely am sorry for how much sadness our time together brought you, but I've never been able to genuinely be sorry that it happened. A better man would regret it… but I just— selfishly, I really truly wouldn't take it back even if I could."
Sasuke looked at her with so much intensity, and she could feel just how genuine he was. She was silently reeling. Hoping her blank face would hide the thoughts exploding in her mind. It was probably the most she had ever heard him speak at once. And it was about his feelings.
"Since I can't genuinely, truthfully apologize for being with you, I—I decided I could apologize for the things I do regret."
Her hand was still held in Sasuke's, and she felt him gently squeeze hers before continuing.
"Sakura, I'm sorry I dismissed you every time you tried to help me, and I'm sorry I didn't tell you how much you did."
Sakura's eyes widened briefly as she acknowledged his admission that she had actually helped him. Maybe at some point in time, she had known that.
When they were together, Sakura had never felt pathetic like she had in the years after he left. She had chosen to sleep with Sasuke, and she had known he didn't return her feelings. Still, she had felt like there had been mutual satisfaction beyond physical gratification. There had been times when she felt like Sasuke cared for her and was comforted by her. She had taken some pride in being one of the few people he seemed to be able to tolerate for prolonged periods. It had also been undeniable that, in his own small ways, he had opened himself up to her (though nothing compared to what he was doing now).
After he left, though, and the years dragged on, Sakura had convinced herself that she had been delusional. It was hard for her to think that anyone who cared for her, even a shrivel, could hurt her so badly. Could leave her so carelessly. She felt worthless.
His confession that he had taken some comfort in their relationship meant more to her than he'd ever know. Compared to the damage he had dealt, it was paltry. But she had always had minimal expectations from Sasuke. If he gave her anything, she was grateful.
"Thank you, Sasuke— I- I really did need to hear that." She smiled softly.
He nodded, took another deep inhale and exhale.
"Most of all, I'm sorry for the way I left. I can't imagine how that must have felt."
Sakura looked down at her lap and then found her eyes glazing over as she stared a few inches away where their hands were joined on the couch. She appreciated his apology and a large part of her accepted it. She could tell he was sincere, and what more had she ever wanted from Sasuke?
On the other hand, Sakura wasn't the same girl she had been when she had selflessly given herself away to him and asked for nothing in return.
Sakura had toughened since she was eighteen. She was less self-sacrificing, more jaded. Some of it had developed from her years in medicine. The hospital had a way of taking even the most optimistic idealists and leaving them guarded and disenchanted. Some of it had developed from Sasuke's abandonment. Medicine and Sasuke were both abusive relationships. True loves that had crushed her self-esteem, optimism, and belief in humanity.
A less weathered version of herself would have been overjoyed by his apology. Her older self had a hard time accepting it so easily. After all he'd done, was she so vulnerable that she'd excuse how he had treated her? She wasn't sure that an apology would ever compensate for the heartbreak and worry she'd felt when he'd left.
Still, she wanted him to get relief (or whatever it was he was looking for) from their interaction. He had suffered most of the time she had known him and had continued to suffer after he had left. She didn't want that for him anymore, so she continued to nod in understanding. He would never understand or be able to undo her pain, so why make it worse? Why tell him that a thousand apologies wouldn't undo the damage he'd done to her heart, self-esteem, and future relationships?
Breaking the brief silence that had fallen over them, Sasuke continued to speak.
"I felt like I had to leave Konoha because of what happened—because it's where my family was killed, but…" Sasuke trailed off and looked at a small spot on the carpet, "I learned it doesn't matter where it happened. It follows me everywhere. Besides—" he brought his eyes to meet her own, "I realized Konoha isn't just where my family was killed. It was where they were alive. It was where I lived with them and was a part of a family. The last place I had a mother and father and brother. The last place we were together—and the first place. And it was where I had real friends. Where I hung out with you and Naruto, and where we grew up." He paused, meeting her green eyes with his dark ones, "Where I fell in love."
Sakura's lips parted in surprise as if she wanted to say something, but she didn't know exactly what. Instead, she felt the need to clarify. "Where you fell in love?"
He smiled at her wistfully and nodded slowly. "I fell so hard for you, Sakura," the words fell out of his mouth in a whisper. Easily. Desperately.
Half of Sakura's brain understood that he was telling her that he had loved her. The other half wasn't computing and was forced to assume he had loved someone else named Sakura because how could he be talking about her?? If she had been sure of anything, it was that he didn't love her, and he might not have even liked her.
She felt an indignant, confused anger begin to burn inside her, but she concealed her anger and only let her confusion show. "I'm sorry if I'm being dense here, but…. You're saying you loved me?" She let go of his hand and began nervously brushing her hair away from her face with shaking fingers.
He nodded, and she saw that nervous expression grace his face again.
"I know I never showed it. My words and actions were never loving or considerate. I know that," he sighed. "I think those positive feelings were always just kind of swallowed up by the negative ones."
Sakura was reeling. For ten years, she had convinced herself that she had meant nothing to him. Before he left, Sakura had occasionally allowed herself deluded fantasies that he cared for her.
There had been times—times she'd clung to desperately—when she'd thought she meant more to him than he let on.
There were times he was uncharacteristically tender. She'd catch him watching her across the room with something different flickering in his eyes. Every once in a while, he'd let her lie on his chest longer than was strictly necessary after they'd had sex. Sometimes, he would stroke her pink hair gently before he rolled away from her. There were times they'd laugh together, and he'd pull her into his arms and kiss her cheek.
There were times he was protective—in a way that was more than just selfish possessiveness. Sometimes, when they'd hung out with their friends or with Naruto, he would text her to make sure she got home okay. She had once tried to walk home alone from a party late at night, and he'd been furious with her, begging her to call him to drive her home next time.
But there were many more times when he was cold, dismissive, and dour. She'd accidentally say something too sentimental or romantic, and he'd clam up. He'd walk away from her. He'd ignore her.
When he finally left Konoha, Sakura had to come to terms with the fact that he never cared for her.
Now, after ten years of convincing herself otherwise, Sasuke told her that he had felt the same way about her. He'd loved her. Her lungs were tight, and her stomach was uneasy. She suddenly felt nauseous and overcome with emotions she hadn't felt in years. How could someone she hadn't seen in a decade make her feel so much? It was like she was eighteen again. Old feelings and thought patterns she had buried deep were resurfacing. New feelings of loss for something she never had but could have had emerged. What if he'd never left? What if they'd had a real relationship?
"And even though I regret not seeing you the past ten years, a part of me is glad because you would have been so disappointed in me." He interrupted the silence that had fallen over them, "I made so many mistakes," his voice was quiet, almost shaky.
Sakura stayed silent, staring at her hands, deep in thought. She didn't know how to respond. He sat up straighter with a renewed look of determination on his face. He leaned closer and pivoted so that he could face her more easily from where he sat by her on the couch.
"Look," he cleared his throat, "I suck at this. I've been working on…. On saying how I feel more, but I'm still awful at it…." He trailed off and sighed. "I just really want to say thank you for being there for me. I know you probably regret the time we spent together. I know the outcome was shitty, but— I just— I want you to know that without you, I… I don't think I would have survived that time of my life."
Sakura swallowed and felt hot, repressed tears spill from the corners of her eyes.
"Those two years with you really did save me," he finished, and Sakura was shocked to see that his own eyes were red and watery. Sakura had seen Sasuke sad before. Hell, he'd been depressed the entire time they were together. Still, this was different. His sadness had always been cloaked in anger. This sadness was cloaked in gratitude, and the way Sasuke was looking at her swept the air from her lungs.
"How- how could you not tell me?" She demanded, her voice rasping, "I told you I loved you. You knew I felt the same way," Even as she asked, she knew the answer. The Sasuke she had known was emotionally illiterate. Incapable of expressing his feelings with words— but why then had he not expressed it in other ways?
"I was going to leave either way, and I didn't want to make it more difficult. I thought it was the right thing to do,"
Sakura looked at him, utterly baffled, as he continued.
"I also had a lot of growing up to do. I loved you in a very… childish way."
Her brows pinched together, "What does that mean?"
He frowned. "I don't know… it wasn't a mature, altruistic kind of love. I loved you like a kid loves their parents—obviously not in the platonic sense, but selfishly. Dependently— taking every ounce of patience and kindness and love from you and never giving anything back…."
"…I didn't love you like you loved me. I was sick and fucked up."
"Is that even love?" She asked gently, looking at him sadly.
"Yes." His brows furrowed, and he looked slightly frustrated. She watched him as his eyes moved to look out the window, staring unblinking, deep in thought. She became immersed in the silence, letting her own thoughts distract her. His answer left little room for argument, but she had many. She decided to keep her thoughts to herself. Why ruin the first intentionally kind, grand gesture he'd ever made for her with a decade of pent-up resentment and anger? She wouldn't.
"Did you ever fall in love again?" He asked quietly.
Her lips parted in surprise. The answer truly was a simple no, but she had tried.
She had tried dating after Sasuke, but none had ever felt right.
Two years after Sasuke disappeared from her life and everyone had left for college, Sakura slept with Naruto over winter break. They had both grieved the loss of their friendship with Sasuke and after two years, they had both realized that they might not see him again. Perhaps because they both understood to some degree the pain the other felt they took comfort in each other's arms.
It had been much more intentional than with Sasuke, and it wasn't just physical—far from it. Sakura had realized that Naruto was everything Sasuke hadn't been. Primarily, he loved her. (Now she knew they had perhaps been more similar in that way than she'd realized). He was openly affectionate, goofy, and, most importantly, loyal. She knew he would never leave her the way Sasuke did. For all these reasons, Sakura convinced herself to take a chance on Naruto.
She remembered the first time they were together; he'd hovered over her, stopping to ask, "You're not a virgin, right?" She'd assured him she wasn't, so he knew he didn't need to be particularly gentle or cautious.
Afterward, they lay in each other's arms and talked. It was easy and friendly like it always was. After an hour of light giggles and inside jokes, Naruto turned her in his arms so she faced him fully. His expression became melancholic and apprehensive. He traced her hip bone absentmindedly while he took a moment, seemingly to prepare himself for the question he was going to ask. The answer he was going to receive.
"It was Sasuke, wasn't it?" His eyes bore into hers, looking for verification.
It had been mortifying when she couldn't hold back tears from falling down her cheeks.
"I'll kill that fucking asshole if he ever comes back here," he promised her protectively.
Two weeks later, they decided they were better friends than lovers. They both deeply loved each other, but it wasn't enough. Sakura had learned that even though she thought Naruto was objectively hot, he didn't make her hot. They loved each other, and they both admired each other physically, but admiration was different than chemistry.
Still, Sakura didn't regret her brief relationship with Naruto. It had been what he'd needed to let go of his crush and move on. It had been what she'd needed to know she couldn't force a relationship without sparks, even if she thought he was a wonderful man. Their love wasn't the right kind of love.
Toward the end of college, Sakura had a fling with a guy she'd known forever named Kiba. She hadn't known him well, but she knew him enough that when he asked her out, she felt obligated to say yes. He was hot, her friends had squealed, and according to them, she needed to get laid.
There was no denying that she and Kiba had what she and Naruto lacked. The chemistry was there. She knew he had been a bit of a womanizer throughout high school and college, but his experience had benefits… He knew exactly what he was doing. He knew how to flirt, he knew how to kiss, he knew how to make her cum over and over again.
But that was it.
Sakura and Kiba had all the chemistry but none of the connection. They could talk dirty, and they could talk about local breweries, Kiba's dog, and what they were watching on Prime, but they couldn't dig deeper than that.
When the lust wore off, nothing was there to hold them together. Sakura hadn't been particularly sad when they broke up, and neither had Kiba. There were no hard feelings. She'd even texted him a few times over the years when she needed a night of fun with no attachments.
Sakura's only other relationship had been two years ago. Ino had set her up with one of her best friends, Shikamaru. They had known each other growing up, but Sakura hadn't seen him since he'd left for Stanford six years prior.
Unlike Kiba and Naruto, Sakura had been able to connect with Shikamaru on an intellectual level. She respected his political ideology, witty comebacks, and insight into her career. He asked questions about medicine as if he genuinely wanted to learn. Sakura tried desperately to make things with Shikamaru work. She revered his intelligence and kindness.
Unfortunately, the excitement was never there for them. It was easy, but it had none of the emotional or physical intensity Sakura craved.
Sakura had constantly chastised herself when Sasuke came to her mind. It has been years; she shouldn't give him a thought. Still, he was the one she compared all of her relationships to. When she dated Naruto, she loved the friendship and love she'd shared with him but missed the chemistry she'd had with Sasuke. When she dated Kiba, she was physically satisfied, but she missed the love and years of friendship she'd had with Sasuke. When she dated Shikamaru, she missed the passion and excitement.
Sasuke had made her feel everything. Her heart had ached for him. It would flutter madly for him in a way she hadn't felt since. When he was upset, she was upset; when he cracked a smile, she couldn't stop herself from joining. She had loved him madly.
But Sasuke had left her.
The answer was easy. She had never loved anyone like that since. But she also hadn't felt pain to that degree. She had also never been hidden away like a secret by her subsequent lovers.
"No, I never felt that way again," she met his eye, sighing.
Did he know she resented him for it? Could he tell now?
He looked slightly flustered, pushing his hair away from his face, and she could tell he was struggling to articulate his thoughts. Finally, he spoke,
"Sakura, when I came here to apologize… I mean… I'm not just sorry for hurting you or myself or Naruto. I'm sorry I did it. If I could go back in time, I wouldn't do it— I wouldn't leave in the first place. If I could go back, I would change everything."
They were both quiet for a moment. Sakura blinked back tears, swallowing hard to control her emotions. She sat down slowly on her couch and put her head in her hands, inhaling slowly.
She felt him lean closer, "Sakura," he whispered as she lifted her head from her hands, warily meeting his urgent gaze. "If I could do it again—go back to high school with you; I would have told you how amazing you are." She shivered as he brushed away one of her tears with his thumb.
"I would have told you I loved you, and it wasn't just sex. I would have told you you were my best friend. I would have made you my girlfriend, taken you to homecoming and prom, and told everyone we were together. I would have told you I felt like I needed to leave Konoha." She was looking at him now, eyes full of sadness, and he gently retook one of her hands in his.
"If I could go back, I would have helped you study for the MCAT, I would have been there through medical school, I would have followed you anywhere. I would have asked you to marry me," His voice broke, and Sakura watched his cheeks turn pink, and his eyes turn glassy as she sat in shock as his regret turned into despair within her own heart.
"But here's the thing." He continued, " That never would have happened because I fucking hated myself."
Sakura had managed to keep it together. Yes, she had allowed tears to escape, but she had suppressed her ugly, heaving sobs until she closed the door behind him. Her back slid down the door until she hit the floor, and she buried her face in her knees, wiping her tear-streaked face on her scrubs in what was probably a stellar way to contract C. Diff.
She let tears wrack her body in a way she hadn't allowed in years. She felt like she was grieving a relationship she hadn't even realized she'd had—one where Sasuke loved her back.
She grieved the relationship she could have had. The one where he stayed and supported her and married her. The one where they would have ended up like Hinata and Naruto.
It was imaginary but so much closer than it had ever been before. A tangible alternate reality where her heart was never irrevocably fractured and ruined.
She had always wanted to see him again, but she had never realized the pain would be as fresh as the day he left, as if she had traveled in time.
She wasn't just sad; she was mad. He had taken away her happy ending. He had turned her into a cynic.
She had always thought he had been so straightforward. She had actually found peace in the fact that she had always known that he didn't feel the same way about her, but she had chosen to give herself to him anyway. But he had lied.
A betrayal that left her happy and sad- a heaving puddle on the floor.
Ten minutes after he left, Sakura was startled by a knock on the door. She stopped her sobs and wiped her face instantly. She silently lifted herself off the floor and brought a swollen eye to look through the peephole of her door.
She cringed when she saw the dark mess of hair and white collared shirt. She was a mess, but he knew she was there.
After a few moments of hesitation, she decided she didn't care. Screw dignity and mature adult conversations. He deserved to see how he'd hurt her. She didn't care that she looked hideous or fucking pathetic. She didn't care about making sure he felt forgiven and comforted. He deserved to see every fucking tear that rolled down her face and to sit with the knowledge that he'd been responsible for them and thousands more.
With new flames of outrage burning in her gut, she ignored her initial hesitation, turned around, unlocked the lock and deadbolt of her door, and let it swing open to see why Sasuke Uchiha had returned to her door for a second time that day, and not once in the 3,600 days prior.
AN: this was a tough chapter to write, and I still feel pretty unsure about it. If you have feedback about how I can improve it let me know.
Also, if you haven't spent time in inpatient healthcare in the US, you maybe not understand Sakura's feelings on residency... She's tired and in a tough stage of training.