Chapter 3
nothing more

There is something amiss, and Sakura stands frozen in front of her kitchen sink.

Overhead is a shelf she opens each morning, a motion that never meant too much, but has already been a part of her day. Inside is a row of containers, filled with her brews, powders, and bags of tea.

One of them is empty.

And it shouldn't have been empty at all.

Her blinks are fast, her brows almost stitching together. How could she be out of chamomile? And how busy was she that she'd already downed all ten bags of it in just three days? It should still be enough to last her the entire week, and that made her decide not to buy more when she had her usual grocery run last Sunday. She groans—aloud—making sure that the entire room hears it. Might have wanted anyone outside to hear her as well.

Yet, no one answers.

She doesn't care anyway.

She huffs and takes out the empty container, glares at it as the dust powder clouds inside. When she sets it onto the counter, she takes off its lid, still can't believe on what she's seeing, and looks up, checking the rest of her containers. There are still a few bags of jasmine, hibiscus, green tea—but all she needs is her chamomile, her only relaxant to get her through the day. It keeps her company before she leaves for work; sometimes, ends up taking a few with her to the clinic.

It's still Wednesday, but all of it is gone in a blink.

She sighs, closing her eyes.

Is there time? She feels there still is. She got up earlier than usual, even though her shift doesn't start until noon. It annoys her to no end that whenever she tries to gain a bit more minutes of rest, she always ends up sleeping for hours. Before she knows it, it's already fifteen minutes before her shift starts. Hence why she makes the decision to get up, even though she has only rested for four hours. Maybe even two.

She squints at her wall clock as it reflects the light from her window. She can't really go through a day without her go-to beverage—especially with work that never seemed to stop piling up. It's like the way Shikamaru refuses to start his day without his coffee. Or even the way Sai needs his ink, capped at full. Naruto, and his ramen supply in almost all of his shelves in his apartment, fully stacked before he leaves for his mission.

Sasuke, and his brother's sword sheathed behind him.

Kakashi, and the book he'd always tuck inside his back pouch when they leave the gates.

At the thought, she stills. She has to stop going that way.

She blinks it away, along with the clench in her chest threatening to weaken her feet, and looks back across her living room for something else to focus on.

Among the muted colors and gray, she finds a mix of yellow, blue and purple, propped up beside her bookcase, hiding away from sunlight. It had been more than a week since she had them, and is reminded to pay Ino a visit at the shop with a list of questions which her friend might think of as a call for help. She'd always wondered if there were ways for them to last longer than their actual lifespan. Sakura could've just researched about it, but no one does it like Ino. Sakura admits defeat when it comes to her expertise.

As she turns, her arm flings the empty container accidentally into the sink. She'd almost forgotten what she needed to do.

Sakura takes a quick shower to prepare herself for the day, for the mini-grocery run she had decided minutes prior. As she brisks out of her room, she reaches for her bag, but settles on taking her purse. She reaches for her keys now hanging on the wall, instead of sprawled on the counter.

Outside, the mid-morning heat starts pricking at people's skins. She heads east, and finds the same routine each day: the freshly-baked bread her mother buys for breakfast wafts into the streets; the wife of the new Yakiniku place chattering away with the tea shop owner at the building right next to her; a dog barking at a seemingly bored cat in front of a cafe. She turns left, a quieter alley in her wake, and the convenience store stands in the middle, albeit shorter than its neighbors. There would always be a group of people flocking in front of it, be it students, or workers, or just people needing to rest.

Today, unfortunately, it is empty, lights dimmed out from inside, no sign of life behind the counter.

Closed.

She refuses to believe it and moves closer, her steps picking up speed. And when she sees the sign left at the front 'We'll be back next week!', a sigh escapes her lips. It's ironic how easily she forgets things she can see almost every day, but she could never bury memories of the people she hadn't seen for a long time. Those years of hurt.

Of regret.

Stop thinking about it. Sakura shakes her head before her knees give in to her thoughts. She formulates her next plan, and wonders if she can actually stop by the market.

But it would take a bit longer than if she'll just have that energy drink from the vending machine at the hospital. Maybe, she could even ask Terumi if she had some to spare. She berates herself, thinking that maybe she shouldn't have been picky instead, and just go with whatever she had sitting inside her shelf, waiting to be consumed.

Another sigh forms, and as she turns back towards the alley she'd come from, two children brush past her in a hurry, knocking her out of balance.

"Sorry!" The girl, followed by a boy, stops and bows her head a few steps away from her, but before Sakura can tell them off, the girl drags the boy away, as if they were chasing after something they needed to see before they lose it. "Come on!" she hisses at her companion.

"We're not gonna make it!"

"We're not gonna make it if you don't run faster!"

Sakura narrows her eyes at the children running away, road dust following them, and she hears a few middle-aged citizens tsk behind her. She only agrees silently, and when the man asks if she's okay, she smiles, telling the man she's fine, that she'll live. She can't fault the children if they were excited about something, but her curiosity is at the edge, and her feet makes the decision for her to follow them.

It'll only take a few minutes. She still has time, she tries to convince herself, taking her to another alleyway, a path leading to a rather busy part of the village.

It leads to the marketplace, rather, the far end of it, where the vendors usually prop up their stalls whenever they had something on sale; where artists stage their art and perform.

Today, however, it's neither a sale nor a performance.

Because right near the fences where the market ends sits a brown-haired stranger all too familiar, a smile in his purple-patched eyes as the wide-eyed children hover around him, showing them the back of his camera. Something interesting maybe, she thinks. Or maybe one of the children, or the busy market itself.

Maybe the spring sunset.

Sakura stops by the mouth of the alley, leaning by the wall, watching the animated scene at the distance. She remembers that day at the Hokage Monument, the cherry blossoms gleaming at the corner even though faint. It came to her again when she'd already tucked it far from her mind. Ino had been the one to remind her of him, and over the next few days, Sakura tries not to flinch at the next brown-haired man she passes by at a cafe; a companion of a patient clad in a green coat; a click of a shutter that she thinks she's heard from the other side of the road. She shouldn't be so aware of him. He isn't really someone special to be remembered.

She looks back and sees the girl and the boy who'd brushed past her—the girl jumping in front of the stranger, while the boy shies away towards the backs of the rest of the children, part wary, part curious.

Yet her eyes leave the animated children and turn to the stranger. Sukea, she has to remember his name. Almost always, she forgets the names of people she seldom meets. But his is quite foreign for her taste, and when she comes across a name as unique as his, it sticks into her brain.

There is a chill at the back of her neck, along with a memory she tries to will away, but fails. And instead of brown, her eyes flash silver, a half-covered face, and a green flak-jacket. It had been at a time after the war, when he'd been alternating between escort missions and Anbu, and he had been free to accompany her. She had felt a bit tired back then, walking around, looking for tofu and fresher green onions, and in the end buying the ones with the price that was right for her. And when she headed back onto the road where he said he'll be, she found him sitting on the same boulder, with children surrounding him, and a girl hunched over his shoulders. She remembers watching him for a while as he told them a story, the children listening to him intently, and in the moment he lifted his eyes to meet hers, they crinkled, and she saw him tell the children he needed to go, seated the girl on his shoulders at the boulder he'd occupied. It looked like it because she heard their groans as loud as the buzzing market. Like she was listening in, even though there had been quite a distance, quite a crowd.

She realizes she had never really asked which kinds of stories he had told the children that day, but remembers telling him how good he was with them.

There is a tug in her heart. No matter how many times she tells herself to stop, she never could.

Then a click of a shutter from afar. A muffled echo in her ears.

Then static fades, even when she hadn't noticed it before.

A few teenagers run past her, shouting "Excuse me!" as they chase each other, and the memory bursts like a bubble, knocking her back into the world alive in front of her, holding herself to the wall for safe measure.

The children's gazes widen a bit more, amazed at the device in his hands, as if they haven't seen it before. And maybe they haven't. Maybe they haven't even seen the stranger before.

And there it is again, the smile in his purple-patched eyes as the boy beside him stares at him unabashed; the smile now on his lips, and when he lifts his eyes, turns his head a bit to the left—

"Sakura-san!"

Her cheeks fall. She hasn't realized she'd been smiling until someone called her.

Yet, there is relief in her chest at the voice calling her, and she turns to it, not looking back. Like she was waiting for a reason not to meet the gazes of the stranger at a distance.

It's one of her former patients and is apparently walking out of the market.

But still, in those few minutes, as Sakura walks back towards the alley she came from, she wonders what would've happened if she'd met his eyes. She wonders if he'd smile at her, or if he'll actually see her at all. She hasn't gone inside the gates anyway, she doubts he'll actually see her. She doesn't want to think about it anymore, but there is a kind of chill pricking lightly against her skin, like a pair of eyes drilling through the bubble, waiting for her to take notice.

Over the last few years, she's learned that it's easier to stay away—to ignore the things happening around her—rather than risking it, and be hurt all over again. Rather than taking the bait, and not knowing what to do right after.

She's learned to ignore the life buzzing away inside the market, with the familiar stranger and the children wearing their smiles. She wills away the memories of a bright spring day, the scent of nature mixing with the warmth, and the crinkling eye smiles of a man tucked in the past. She slips away into a quieter path, into the familiar alleyway, concealing herself from the eyes she thought were watching.

"Are you alright, Sakura-san?"

She nods, almost forgetting her former patient beside her, and smiles as if she hadn't been thinking of anything else.

It's easier this way, she thinks.

It's easier.

She walks back to her apartment and realizes she'd forgotten about her tea dilemma altogether.

Sakura's days blend in the same ways.

Around noontime, her patients line up in front of her clinic. Mid-afternoon, her trainees gather in a room to learn of new developments in research and to catch up on their tasks. Terumi reminds her to eat dinner on time, reminds her to leave her clinic at nine on the dot. And when Sakura's shift ends, her clinic stays dark and dim, with nothing to remind her of the things she cared about.

No pictures on frames. No flowers on vases.

Nothing more.

Late in the night, she takes the longer route towards home, welcomes the quiet, the cool spring breeze hugging her like the coat she brings with her. She passes by the playgrounds, the rivers trickle in her ears. She heads up the stairs, through the park, the rustle of the leaves in harmony with the owls and crickets.

She passes through Training Ground 3, catches a snap of a twig. A thud on the ground. A whiff of pinewood and forest rain.

When she halts her steps, it's still there.

When she turns back, the wind blows harder, trying to distract her.

And as if lightning has snapped across, it is gone.

The quickened thrumming in her heart, however, never fades.

And when she arrives home just minutes before the clock strikes twelve, her eyes flick towards the cabinet where a contained garden rests. The moon tries to shed its light on it, but only until the part where it's willing to show. She finds a few petals at its foot, pale and yellow, but she's tired and brushes past it.

But unlike the thrumming in her heart, the scent of spring that came along when she received it starts to fade.

"Oh, Sakura!" Ino welcomes her in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

When Sakura heard that Ino was home from a mission at the border, she planned to visit her at the flower shop. She's been meaning to visit the past week, meaning to ask about the flowers she has at her apartment, but Ino hadn't been around. Now that she is, Sakura decides that Friday would be the best day to see her friend, given that it's the start of a weekend and Ino would be there, on a mission break, tending to the shop as she recuperates.

"I need to ask you something before I buy lunch. Are you…" Sakura pauses, following slowly behind Ino as she transfers from one corner of the shop to another. "…free?"

Ino's brows shoot up, wide eyes on hers. "For lunch? Sakura, it's two-thirty in the afternoon."

Shrugging, Sakura says, "My shift doesn't start at noontime. And I had…" she glances down, towards the crates to her right, looking away from Ino. "…things to do."

Ino rolls her eyes, returning back to the crates of roses in front of her. "Who doesn't? But they always have lunch on time. Tsunade-sama always wanted you to—"

"Shishou wanted me to get lunch no matter the time, as long as I don't starve myself—I remember that, Pig." Sakura folds her arms in front of her, the nagging distant in her ear. She doesn't need a scolding before she'd eaten, when she only had a bit of borrowed time. She wrinkles her nose at the woodsy scent behind her, flinching slightly at its familiarity, but not too much that her friend would notice. "Besides, Terumi reminded me of that earlier."

Ino sighs, as she opens her notebook again to the page she marked with her finger. "You need to eat on time. Don't just drink tea on an empty stomach. You're a medic, for god's sake!"

As far as she knows, lunchtime doesn't necessarily mean exactly at noon. There isn't a rule for that. Yet, everyone else seems to care. Especially if it pertained to her.

"And don't you roll your eyes at me, Forehead," Ino continues, narrowing her gaze at her. "If it means getting you out of that clinic, I would remind you every single day."

"I already have Terumi for that."

"Then, I'll remind you during weekends." Ino grins, and goes to the next crates—tulips—counting each one on the crate, checking the quality of each. When they stop talking, the scratches of her purple pen against the notebook can be heard from Sakura's side.

"What brings you here, Forehead?" Ino asks without looking up.

If Sakura had known that Ino would be walking back and forth and around her shop, she wouldn't have gone straight here. She had hoped that she'd catch her behind the counter resting, reading her romance pick of the week, but here she was, pacing around Yamanaka Flowers from one crate to another, pulling and pushing crates from end to end, sweat rolling down her forehead.

She wonders if it already had been an hour since she started doing inventory.

Sakura wanders away, leaving Ino to her work. She doesn't follow her around, and waits near the counter instead, passing by mid-bloom carnations, and peonies, and roses, and when she passes by a crate of white tulips, her heart almost stills at the sight.

Almost, but no.

As soon as Ino checks the crates near the counter, the ones with the sunny daffodils, she poses the question. "Do you have any tips for flowers to last longer?"

Ino pauses, curiosity alight in her eyes, and then moments later, realizes what it meant. "Oh, right, you've had flowers for a while."

"Yeah."

Ino hums, and Sakura feels ignored. A glance at the wall clock tells her that it's already been ten minutes, and she can already feel a kind of sting at the pit of her stomach. "Or I could come back?"

"No, wait. I'm almost done." Ino pulls a crate of yellow tulips from the door to the counter.

"Fine."

Sakura leans onto the counter and glances around the shop. It's been a while since she's visited. Although their decorations always differ every season, Sakura still could pick out the same little things, ones that have always been left ever since they were children. Like Ino's least favorite book tucked behind a succulent in the upper shelves. Or that vine creeping along the wires of a lamp that they hadn't used in a while. Or that sticker pattern that Sakura had placed with Ino marking their heights on the wall beside the doorway that led to the Yamanaka residence. In here, there are all kinds of evidences of a happy past, something she doesn't hesitate on looking back.

Ino's romance books are displayed on the huge wall shelf to the left of the counter. As Sakura moves closer, she recognizes two of them—those that were also inside her own shelves at her apartment because she'd told Ino about them. Ino always said that she trusted her recommendations.

"So," Ino calls from the counter, the scratch of pen against parchment at a stop. "You're asking me to help you with tending your flowers?"

Sakura snaps at her, eyes wide. "That's not what I said."

"You asked me what you need for your flowers to last longer. You're basically asking me for help."

She hesitates. "Well, yeah—"

"Then," Ino cuts her off as she ducks behind the counter, dragging something like a rock or a potted plant from one side to another. "What if I'll come visit you tomorrow, how's that sound?"

Sakura feels a pinch in between her eyebrows. She just can't believe her friend's nonchalance sometimes.

"Can't you just tell me what I need to do?" She walks over to other side of the counter as Ino stands up again, leaning against it in thought. "Or what I need to buy?"

"Do you have vases?"

Sakura doesn't know where their conversation is going.

"I have two—"

"I know that, but I mean, extra?"

She ponders. She knows, and has only seen two. But she asks, "What does that have to do with anything?"

"I know you, Forehead," Ino says as she sticks her pen behind her ear, and goes to the shelves, grabbing a leather book. "No offense, but you suck at tending plants or flowers for that matter. I remember you placing all twenty flowers into one vase, not letting each of them breathe."

Sakura scoffs. "You said that was okay?"

"When they are of the same kind! They don't even match with each other. And twenty is too many for a vase like that!"

She gapes at Ino. She couldn't dispute that. Ino had scolded her when she saw what she did.

"Again, what does that have to do with anything?"

Ino rolls her eyes. "Again, who's the expert here?"

Both of them gape at each other for a while. But in this game, Sakura never wins. "Sometimes, I feel like you're just tricking me into letting you go to my apartment," she sighs, pushing a finger onto her temple.

Ino leans on the shelves behind the counter, with the open leather book pulled down and her purple pen cover resting on her chin. "Would that be so bad?"

Her mind lurches at her question.

It is, Sakura wants to say, a wall beginning to pile up, a trap being set. Because by then, she'll be caught. By then, Sakura will have to answer whatever Ino wanted to ask her, and she knows by every look in Ino's eyes that she has a lot. By then, Ino will make her want to talk because of this— this favor that she's asked.

And while she's thinking it, there is a knot in her stomach rising up to her chest. Is this how she really wants to treat Ino? Is this how she wants to treat any of her friends? To make them feel like an outsider, keeping them out of a sliding glass door as they look in, waiting for her to let them in?

How long will you be like this? She remembers raven hair and mismatched eyes, his question piercing through her mind.

"Sakura?" There is a shadow in Ino's eyes, as if trying to ask, "Are you alright?"

And as if she hadn't just been warring with herself, she smiles without it reaching her eyes, "Fine."

Ino studies her for a while before pulling a few sprays from the shelf behind her. "All right. I'll bring in everything you need. Just bring these with you, and spray it on them when you go home later. It's going to help level the temperature around your flowers so it won't suddenly die when you wake up tomorrow."

As Ino places the spray bottle inside a bag, she asks. "What kind of flower was it again? Daffodils, right?"

"And hyacinths."

Ino frowns. "Hyacinths?"

Sakura tilts her head in confusion. "Yes. Why?"

Ino observes her for a few moments, as if trying to see if she's joking or not. But then, she mutters something, fumbling with the logbook just on top of the counter, her finger pointing onto each record. Ino watches her again, opens her mouth to speak, but then closes it. It's a lot in the last thirty seconds.

"What's wrong?" Sakura asks.

Ino bites her lip. Sakura hasn't seen her this unsure, as if she's trying not to say something wrong.

"Nothing, Forehead." She finally says, her smile clipped. "I'm just going to check on something. I'll see you tomorrow?"

Sakura studies her best friend for a while as she returns her attention to the logbook, flipping it page by page, looking for something.

Then, she remembers she was supposed to be on a lunch break. And when she glances onto the wall clock, it's already five past three in the afternoon. Her stomach growls on cue.

She still isn't sure if she made the right decision to allow Ino to visit her, but she takes her leave and says, "Alright, Pig. See you."

Hina greets her when she arrives at the hospital almost an hour later.

"Welcome back, Senpai."

Sakura smiles, gives her trainee a cookie she got from the cafe she dined in. "Anyone looking for me?"

It's not as if she's expecting anything while she was on break. It's always been a reflex, and she will take anything, even though it is just a hello or someone asking for her. Just anything. But when Hina shook her head, Sakura gives her a soft smile, thanking her. There is a lot to do anyway.

A woman in a wheelchair bumps into her, and Sakura apologizes, backs away for the patient to wheel through towards the other wing. The woman mutters something she fails to hear, but she never minds that much, and proceeds for the stairs. She had left the hospital earlier with a crowd, but it's still the same when she returned. It's the last day of the vaccination initiative that they planned for this quarter, and she had been expecting most of them to have gone home by now. Yet, it's always like this, the civilians catching up on the last day, resulting to longer lines and people sitting on the stairs because there haven't been enough benches.

Just like the ground floor, the second floor is packed with a few patients waiting for their scheduled check-ups. The pediatric hall in the administration wing has a few parents lined up for the initiative, so she excuses herself in between them, careful not to wake up the babies in their arms.

Sakura huffs as she walks out of the crowded part of the hall. She'd said to Tsunade-sama that these initiatives should have been done at the Hokage Tower or at the multi-purpose hall, but her response was that there were a few events planned on the same week. Although, they'll have to revisit that in the next quarter, and Sakura insisted to write that down so it won't be lost.

Relief washes over her as she nears the corner where the medical records room for their wing, the quiet starting to blend with the footsteps, just as she wants it to be, but when she turns to the specialization hall, she bumps into something tall.

Or someone.

In a green long coat, and a scent of spring, a familiar one, but she can't point out.

Moving her world out of balance.

Déjà vu.

Firm hands hold her shoulders, and she stills, focusing on the black turtleneck the man has inside his coat. For some reason, her gaze stays there. For some reason, her breath is caught.

"Hey."

The voice shakes her, and she wakes herself up, looking up to gray eyes fixed on hers.

"Hi," she manages to say as she pulls away from his grip, and a sense of urgency surges within her, wanting to escape.

She looks down to her feet and tries to walk through, to get away, like what she always does to every other stranger.

She doesn't remember this hallway being narrow—even with two of her trainees on their way to the medical records room, there had been enough space. Yet, wherever she moves, his steps take him in front of her. A step to her left, and he is there. To her right, there he is, too. As if there is a pull—a magnetic pull—where she is, and he's there. Inwardly, she scoffs, but on the outside, she panics.

And then, his grip comes back, firm on her shoulders, and the panic within her shoots to the edges.

"What—"

It doesn't take a second, but he turns her around, where she is at the right side, and he is at his.

And suddenly, the hall isn't as narrow as it had been earlier.

He smiles, pulling his hands away

She takes a step back, and when she looks up, she realizes that his scarf was missing, yet she doesn't tell him about it. Her eyes fix on his chin where a beauty mark rests just beneath the left side of his lip.

"Sorry," he says as he places a palm behind his neck, his voice waking her again from a daydream. She wonders about the color of her cheeks, because she could feel its heat coursing through. She stares at the wall for a moment and sighs.

"It's alright." She attempts to look up to his eyes, and nods. "S-Sukea-san."

His name is still foreign coming out of her lips, but she never needed to get used to it. This stranger isn't someone she sees often.

But when he says her name, it's like he had been practicing it since the last time he saw her. That time they introduced themselves to each other.

"Sakura-san." Low and smooth, he nods back. Another smile on his lips, and then walks towards the waiting area, out of her sight. There is something about the way he walked, like he had come from a limp on the way to recovery.

She doesn't know how long she stays there standing in the middle of the hallway. Until Terumi calls her from her clinic, two doors away from where she bumped into Sukea.

"Are you alright, Senpai?"

"I'm fine," she turns to her assistant with a clipped smile, then walks to her clinic, still burying herself in thought.

She sits behind her desk and focuses on her window, thinking what went by this afternoon. From Ino's weird reaction to the hyacinths to bumping into Sukea right by her clinic. Her head is still in the clouds as she tries to make sense of it all.

It's not that every time she bumps into a man, her thoughts swirl as if it's confusing to her, as if there's a lot to think about. It isn't.

It's just that Sukea had left something that made her think, something that didn't make sense to her.

But is it going to be worth it? She sighs yet again. She's not going to let a man like Sukea, who is still a stranger to her, take over her thoughts that much. She doesn't know him. She won't ever know him. These are only chance meetings. Nothing more.

Her eyes fall on the empty vase propped alone near the window, the orange sky stretching on both ends of the frame.

She still can't forget.

Because just before he walked out of her sight, she caught something… earthy—forest-like—in the air around him. Like pine. Like—

"Senpai, Tsunade-sama needs you."

Sakura turns to the door, her assistant calling for her from the outside. Thankful for the distraction, she nods at her, and leaves all thoughts of the stranger contained. In what, she doesn't exactly know, but she needs to just leave it here. In an imaginary bottle. Or maybe even in that empty vase that once held something.

She stands up, taking her notebook and a pen, leaving her clinic again the way it was when she arrived just minutes ago.

Chapter End Notes:

how is everyone? it's been so long!
it's been crazy the last few months, and after leaving this chapter alone for those months and doing a bit of edits, this is what came up.
is it shorter? yes, but this is the first part of a supposed to be longer chapter 3. i decided to divide it into two, bc why not. ;)
let me know what y'all think about this chapter!

sending love to my beta Injeolmi for always cheering me on!

x Rye