Sasuke sat in his car, unable to drive away. He had accomplished what he had come to Konoha to do, but he didn't feel accomplished.
Sakura had seemed to want him to go, but he wasn't sure that he was ready. He felt like there was so much more.
He had told her he'd loved her and wished he'd done things differently, and Sakura's demeanor changed so suddenly.
He hadn't been sure how she would respond to him showing up after a decade. Although Sakura was more understanding and compassionate than anyone he'd ever known, she had always had a temper. Sasuke had been fortunate to avoid it more than Naruto, but he had undoubtedly been the target of her wrath over the years.
Sasuke knew she had every right to be angry, so part of him had expected her to instantly devolve into a tornado of petite pink-haired fury.
Instead, she had stared at him in shock and let him wrap his arms around her as if they were just old friends running into each other.
She had prattled on more awkwardly than he'd ever heard her, and he'd watched in amusement as she fidgeted and tried to host her unexpected guest.
When he apologized and told her he had loved her, she had been quieter than he ever would have anticipated. He wished he could bear witness to her thoughts. She had always worn her heart on her sleeve, but it had been hard to tell what she was thinking.
She was obviously surprised, and she seemed upset he had never told her, but in general, her reaction to his confession was minimal.
Her eyes had become glassy and tear-filled when her told her he wished he could change the past—told her more of the feelings he had tried so desperately to suppress back then. Her reaction had been brief, and she quickly wiped her tears away, thanking him for being so open with her.
The last several minutes he spent with her felt like he had been talking to a hollow exoskeleton of the real Sakura. It was like her true self had melted into the floor, leaving him with her hollowed body. She smiled lightly, nodding occasionally, and then politely wrapped up their conversation, ushering him out the door. "It was great to catch up, Sasuke," she'd said cordially.
It was wrong. It wasn't Sakura. She was one of the most emotionally driven people he knew. She was always so candid, wearing her heart on her sleeve. She was forward and honest, whether it was guided by love, passion, or fury.
It was almost like they had traded places. He had been open and honest, and she had sat there completely unreadable. He wasn't sure how she had dealt with him for all those years… He wondered if she used to leave interactions with him feeling lonely and unresolved, too.
Sasuke reminded himself that he didn't deserve any kind of response from Sakura. The purpose of making amends wasn't relief or pleasure. It was to do the right thing and leave the past in the past.
But he couldn't leave the past. The idea of pulling away made his chest tight with anxiety and misplaced anger. If he left, it was over. He wasn't ready for it to be over. Knowing he would see Sakura again had motivated him for the past two years to put in all that effort and time for recovery. What would motivate him if he left her behind?
He understood this was unhealthy. He should want to be the best version of himself for himself, but he would be lying if he didn't acknowledge his other motives. He had occasionally let his thoughts spiral and imagine what could happen when they saw each other again. Sometimes, he would indulge in unrealistic reunions they might have.
If he left now, he may never see her again. Or maybe he'd return in a few years, and she'd be married.
He had been terrified that she would be married with kids already. Happy with a nice guy—never thinking of what they had once had.
He must have been the most selfish asshole in the world because when she told him she'd never fallen in love again, he'd been happy. What kind of sick piece of shit was he?
He should drive home right now. He should drop by the Marriott, pack up his things, and he could be home by midnight. He could move on to the next part of his life. He could focus on work. Keep up with therapy. Maybe one day he'd succumb to loneliness and meet a wife on Hinge or Bumble or whatever the hell was current. The thought made him miserable.
But he couldn't stay in her parking lot all night. This was ridiculous. She had wanted him to leave. She had been subtle and polite but clear.
He shouldn't go back to her door.
He shouldn't knock.
He had already taken so much from her—she had nothing left to give him: no comfort, no love, no effortless smiles.
He pushed on the break and push-to-start button, allowing his car to rev to life. Leave. He ordered himself bitterly. Instead, his head flopped back onto his headrest, and he looked at the black fabric on the roof of his car.
Goddammit.
He pushed the button again, unbuckled his seatbelt, and swung his legs out of his car. He couldn't leave.
He didn't know what he needed from her, but it wasn't fake smiles and polite goodbyes. He was a self-centered jerk, but he needed more. He always needed more from her. He was like a fucking parasite who couldn't survive without taking everything she had.
He hated himself as he walked up to her door. He hated himself as he knocked. But he did it anyway because Sasuke wasn't a good man. No matter how much therapy he went to and how much he wanted to believe otherwise, he was a shitty person.
These thoughts were confirmed when the door opened, and he saw Sakura's red, splotchy, wet face. Her green eyes were brighter than ever, standing out against her puffy eyes and shining with tears. They were glaring at him, and he realized with a jolt that this was why she had wanted him to leave.
She had wanted him to leave so that she could cry. Alone.
"Sakura…" he murmured, reaching forward. She recoiled but let the door swing open as she walked further into her apartment.
"I don't see you for ten years, and then I get you twice in one day. Lucky me," her quiet voice dripped sarcasm. He followed her inside anyway and closed the door behind himself.
He couldn't believe the effect her tear-streaked face still had on him. It certainly wasn't the first time he had caused her to cry, and he had always sucked at making her feel better. His chest felt tight, and his voice faltered. He wanted to show her how sorry he was, but wasn't that what made her cry in the first place?
She turned around on her heels as they reentered her small living room, and he saw that fire he used to know so well. Her tears weren't just full of sadness, but anger too. She glared at him expectantly, waiting for him to explain why he was back. He opened his mouth to speak, but the words couldn't come out. He kept second-guessing what he needed to say.
She stepped toward him and lifted her chin, shimmering eyes fixed on his. "I know you came for a resolution, and I tried to give it to you. The longer you stay, the less satisfied you'll be, because I really can't handle this anymore," her voice was low as she gestured between them, indicating whatever 'this' was.
He nodded for a moment before speaking, "Sakura, I knew coming here would probably be upsetting. I didn't expect you to act a certain way. I want you to tell me what you're really thinking, not give me a resolution."
She snorted dramatically, fixing him with her emerald eyes, damp lashes blinking rapidly. "You want to know what I'm thinking?" She laughed petulantly. "After telling me nothing? Making me think I was pathetic for loving someone who didn't even care about me? Leaving without a word? You think you deserve any explanation from me?" Her voice was still quiet but dangerous.
"I don't think I deserve anything, Sakura. That's not why I'm here," he sighed, pushing a few stray strands of hair away from his face.
"Then why the fuck are you here, Sasuke?" Her voice was getting louder, and he hardly knew how to answer her question. He had been asking himself that the second he got out of his car the second time.
Expressing even his most basic feelings was difficult, but how did he express something he didn't even understand? His motives were hazy and complex, and he could hardly understand his own warped, chaotic thoughts, let alone put them into words.
"I just…" he started, eyes lowered to the floor, brows furrowed, "I just didn't want to leave," he said, astounded by the inadequacy of his explanation.
"Well, that's certainly a first, isn't it?" Her words were scathing, and he chastised himself for not noticing the irony of his words before they left his mouth.
"I didn't want to make things worse by coming here," he sighed, rubbing his forearm and pushing up the sleeve of his shirt. "I thought… it might make you feel better knowing I felt the same way."
"There is literally no way you felt the same way." she said stonily, "When you love someone, y-you want to be with them. You don't leave them. You don't disappear. How can you possibly claim you loved me, Sasuke??" Her glistening eyes bore into his, and his breath hitched at their intensity, "you fucked me, and then left me the same night!"
Her sharp words were the first ones she'd said that night to truly sting. He felt his heart ache in his chest. His eyes burned. He knew this moment would come. The moment he felt like the worst man alive—when he had to face just how cruel he had been. He thought the last night they were together he had shown her just a sliver of affection, and maybe some of his emotions had come through at some point. He'd hoped a part of her had known deep down that he loved her.
That was clearly wishful thinking. Sakura was fuming. Her cheeks were pink, and her eyes were bright with anger.
"You-you screwed with my life, Sasuke. Do you know how hard it is to date when you don't have any—not even a shred—of closure from your first love?" she glared at him despite the tears in her eyes.
Secretly, Sasuke was relieved she didn't have much success dating, but he'd die before he said that out loud. He was reminded by his own thought process what an egocentric bastard he was for the dozenth time that day. He hardly needed her to tell him.
"College is supposed to be fun," she continued, "but I was such a mess— you just don't get it." She said coldness seeping into her voice. "You didn't just break my heart," her voice wavered and cracked, "you broke every fucking piece of me." Tears streamed down her face, but she no longer attempted to wipe them away.
Her words cut through him like shards of glass. He knew that. It was what he hated about himself. He was broken, and it spread out of his being like a soul-shattering disease, infecting every part of his life, especially those who dared to get close to him.
"You broke me, Sasuke. And you think coming here, saying that we could have been something more, isn't going to break apart every measly piece I managed to put back together? No one would do that to someone they love. You don't know what love is, Sasuke."
He shook his head. She was wrong. He did love her. He knew he did. He just… was terrible at it. How did he begin to explain to her…?
Sasuke sighed, and ran a hand through his hair nervously, "I wasn't ready for it, Sakura." His voice was quieter than he'd intended, so he cleared his throat, trying to ease his nerves. "I didn't want to love you.."
And he meant that.
He had been terrified by his attachment to her. He was so reliant on her for happiness. So needy. So codependent. What would happen when she was ripped away from him like his parents were? Like Itachi was?? His mouth was dry, his head felt thick, and he wished he was a better communicator. How could he make her understand that he was so sick then, so depressed, so illogical and misguided?
"Sakura, you always thought I was better than I was. You thought there was a good person buried under whatever trauma I had. I didn't want you to get close to me and realize that there was nothing better underneath." His voice cracked with emotion and the scathing pain of saying those words out loud. How could she have loved the person he was?
Sakura's lips trembled, but her voice was barely above a whisper, "That's such bullshit, Sasuke. I loved you as you were."
"What about after you realized I left? Did you love me then when you realized how cruel I was?"
"Love isn't a fucking on-and-off switch, Sasuke! I wanted to stop," she sobbed. "I really, really wanted to stop,"
He was struck by how badly he wanted to hold her—to stop her body from shaking, to make her tears go away. That would be far from welcome at this point, he knew. He walked a few paces toward the couch and sighed as he sank into the cushions, burying his head in his hands.
"I did too." He said quietly, lifting his head to meet her watery green gaze. "I wanted you to be my past. I tried to forget about Konoha. Forget about Naruto, forget about you…" it had been why he had worked so much. Why he had enjoyed the mental reprieve drugs gave him. Why he slept with Karin for years. If he could just drown away his past—smother it with work and sex and money…. That obviously hadn't worked, and when he had started his recovery journey, he had been forced to confront everything he had wanted to forget. His support groups, therapy, and rehab had all forced him to 'reflect.'
Suddenly, he had been forced to rethink what his life could look like—what he wanted it to look like. He needed a purpose. He needed to work toward something. He tried to imagine different scenarios and whether they would bring him some semblance of happiness. Did he want to go abroad and travel? He could do volunteer work and try to assuage some of the guilt that he lived with. Did he want a family?
His rational mind told him that it would be selfish for him to have children. He was so damaged and he often wondered if he had the emotional capacity to be open and loving with a child. He couldn't deny though that there was some instinctual part of him that wanted it.
Was it really just his lizard brain that wanted him to reproduce? Or was he just so pathetically lonely that he'd bring an innocent child into the same world that had been so full of torment for him?
The worst part that he was reticent to admit was that whenever he thought about what that future family might look like, images of Sakura always flickered through his mind.
It was ridiculous, really. He hadn't seen her in so long, and until his conversation with Naruto this morning, he'd been convinced she'd be happy with someone else.
He had always suppressed those thoughts when they'd risen to the surface of his mind. They were just fantasies based on past regrets. But now, he looked at Sakura, and she was right there, in front of him. Bafflingly single. Is this why he couldn't leave?
She was supposed to be in the past, but now there was this infinitesimal possibility that she could hold a place in his future.
He knew his ears and neck were probably bright red from his ridiculous thought process. He could feel the heat spreading over him. His own vulnerability was like an impending black hole about to swallow him into the ground.
Sakura stared at him, lips slightly open, but he couldn't meet her eyes. He wasn't sure what she was thinking, but he certainly couldn't risk her knowing his innermost thoughts. After a moment, she walked around the coffee table and sunk into the couch a couple of feet away from him.
They were both quiet for several minutes. Sasuke took several deep breaths, willing his flushed face to subside.
"Do you remember senior spring break?" Sakura asked quietly; she had lifted her head and tilted it in his direction. Her pink waves hung over her lap, just above where her elbows were crossed over her chest. Her brows were slightly furrowed, and her lip was caught between her teeth.
Of course, Sasuke remembered senior spring break. A bunch of their friends had all driven to the coast together and rented a house on the beach. It had rained for the first few days, and Sasuke remembered the frustration of spending so much time near Sakura but never having any time alone—always keeping up a façade that nothing was going on between them. The house was small. He shared a room with Chouji, Naruto, and Neji, and Sakura shared a room with Ino and Tenten. There was nowhere in the house to sneak off to.
By the third night, cramped in the little house with rain pelting against the windows, he felt like he would go crazy. For several reasons (being an introvert a predominant one). Everyone went to bed late, and it wasn't until Sasuke was lying in his bed at 2 a.m. that he realized the rain had stopped. He figured she'd be asleep, but he texted her anyway, asking her to meet him on the beach if she was up.
He had only been sitting by the dark waves for a minute or two when she sat down beside him. It had been eerily dark outside, with the stars hidden and the moon struggling to shine through the thick cloud cover. He had been so relieved to feel her lean against him.
His tension dissipated with her soft greeting.
He couldn't remember what they had talked about, but he remembered the feeling of never wanting to go to bed, wanting the night to stretch on, to just stay there with her soft voice and easy laughter. They stayed outside until the first glint of coral sun began to rise, and they met outside each night for the rest of the trip, spending the time together they couldn't have during the day.
Sasuke lifted his head and tilted it to where she sat on the couch, now angled toward him with her legs curled into her body. "Of course," he nodded, unable to suppress a small smile.
"Was that when you realized you loved me?" she asked, her bottom lip still clamped between her teeth. A smile spread over his lips, but it was a sad, regretful curve of his mouth. For some reason watching her try to look back and tease apart what he might have been feeling filled him with regret. That had been toward the end of their 'relationship,' and he'd been enamored with her long before that.
He'd tried to keep his feelings from her, but he was sure they had bled through at some point. With all the intimacy and moments they shared, had she never seen the love in his eyes? Had she never noticed him touch her more gently or kiss her more reverently than some kind of friend with benefits?
"No, it was a while before then," he murmured, leaning his right arm into the plush couch cushion to face her more fully on the couch.
"When?" She asked, still looking like her mind was swirling with thoughts.
Sasuke shrugged, "It wasn't any one moment. It just kind of crept up on me." Her green eyes looked at him expectantly. She was always so curious. She wanted to know everything. How ironic that she'd fallen for someone who hid everything, instead. "I guess I just started noticing I'd be so anxious to see you, and I never wanted to leave. It probably started a few months after we started hooking up."
"Wow." She sighed, twisting a strand of pink wavy hair between her forefinger and thumb as her eyes strayed to the coffee table.
"What?" Sasuke asked, not fully understanding what was so significant about his answer.
"That's just a long time to pretend,"
Sasuke nodded silently. It had been, but he didn't know any other way to act at the time. He would have felt so profoundly awkward, baring his soul to her. He had already felt so vulnerable with her—anything more would have left him dangerously insecure.
"I just don't get how—why…." Her voice faltered, unable to convey what she was feeling, but Sasuke understood.
"Nothing good happens to the people I love, Sakura," They stared at each other, and her eyes were full of sadness.
"Do you still believe that?" Sasuke knew what she was asking. It was a tough question. Did he still believe bad things would happen to his loved ones because they had in the past? No. Not rationally, at least. Still, there was this obsessive-compulsive part of him that let the idea fester. Was Karin only spared because he never, truly loved her? He knew the idea was silly, but it was impossible to push the idea away completely. Therapy had taught him not to make decisions based on his invasive thoughts, but that didn't mean they weren't there.
He had worried about what would happen if he told her. Maybe it didn't matter if his love for Sakura was an abstract feeling, but what would happen if he put it into words? What would happen if he let his love turn into happiness? It could be torn away from him again.
"I try not to let…. superstitions like that impact my decisions anymore," the words were as truthful as he could be. He still had a voice that haunted him and told him something terrible would happen if things got too good. A voice that tried to keep him from happiness to save him from devastation. He recognized that voice for what it was now, and he knew it was fear, not truth.
Sakura was calmer now. Her eyes were dry. Her expression was solemn, though her nose was still red from her earlier tears.
"Why did you think it was the beach?" He asked. He wondered what about his disposition that trip was different. Why had she suspected he loved her then, but not the months leading up to it?
He watched color return to her cheeks, and she suddenly looked much more shy than the girl yelling at him just a few minutes earlier. She laughed nervously.
"It, um, it felt like our connection was more emotional, less physical," she shrugged.
He thought back to those nights on the beach. Less physical? He remembered drooling over her in a bikini every day, unable to touch her in front of their friends. He remembered hovering over her on the beach; his elbows digging into the sand, his knees between her thighs while he kissed her desperately in the dark.
He remembered how they'd laid facing each other, talking and laughing about something he couldn't recall. He had never been able to keep his hands off her when he didn't have to. He was sure he would have let his hand roam over her hips, her waist, her belly—her arms. He was sure his hands would have tangled in her hair; pulling he closer to kiss her neck when she laughed.
But was that all?
He smirked, "we didn't sleep together that week, did we?" Her blush deepened, but a genuine smile graced her lips and she laughed gently.
"You don't remember? You were a total baby about the sand."
He furrowed his brows, "what?"
"You said you didn't want sand to get in the wrong places," she laughed, her familiar teasing laugh, and he couldn't suppress the small smile that spread to his lips.
He didn't remember that, but it did sound possible. He hadn't been to the beach in a while, but the idea of the mechanics of sex on the beach made him cringe internally. The concept of sticky sand clingy to body fluids made him shudder. He laughed, "I can't believe you remember that,"
Her smile slowly disappeared and she looked up at him, her gaze intensifying as she shifted on the couch to meet his gaze more fully. "You still wanted to meet me every night, even though we just talked,"
He felt another wave of guilt hit him. His stomach tightened, and he that lighthearted feeling he'd felt moments ago disappear.
He had been such an asshole.
Sakura had been his anchor, his respite from adolescent hell, and he had convinced her he only tolerated her for her body.
"I did," he had so much more to say but felt himself clamming up.
A beat of silence stretched between them.
"We were friends, too, Sakura."
She turned away and nodded, her eyes drifting away from him. She didn't seem convinced, but he probably wouldn't have been either.
"Did you know Neji and Tenten saw us?" She asked quietly, her hand brushing a pink lock behind her ear.
He shook his head. He had once felt like it was so important to keep everything a secret. Now, he didn't care who she'd told about it. He figured most of her friends had found out.
"Yeah, Tenten told me a few years later that she and Neji saw us on the beach. They had snuck out to hook up too," she laughed, a sad smile playing on her lips.
"Neji and Tenten were together?" He couldn't imagine Neji with anyone. He had always been so serious. Then again, that's probably what people had thought about him.
Sakura nodded, "I don't know why we all thought everything had to be a secret. None of us knew they were together until after the funeral."
Sasuke's brows drew inward. The air between them felt heavy with foreboding, "What?"
"Shit, I'm so sorry, I forgot you wouldn't know," she said softly, sad green eyes meeting his own. "Neji died his junior year of college. I guess about two years after you left,"
"What happened?" He asked carefully, his mind slowly processing the news.
"He and Naruto were in a bad accident. Neji was driving, and his side took all the damage. He was on life support for a few days, and then he was gone,"
Sasuke nodded, allowing the familiar feeling of tragedy to wash over him. He wasn't particularly close to Neji but respected him. The realization that Naruto could have died too, made his gut clench tightly.
"What happened to Naruto?"
"Nothing physically. He wasn't hurt,"
What if Sasuke had returned to Konoha today to learn his best friend had died eight years ago? He knew the idea would haunt him.
He thought about the dark-haired boy and how promising his future had been. He'd been a prodigy in many ways, like his brother.
The silence stretched between them for several minutes, as Sasuke contemplated how much everything had changed and he didn't even know it.
"What else happened?" He asked, suddenly feeling the panic of a new set of fears—fears he'd never considered before. What other tragedies had befallen the people he'd grown up with after he'd left?
Sakura looked at him sympathetically, "a lot of good things happened, too,"
The next hour, she filled him in on all the life events he had missed. The events he didn't realize he'd ever care to know about.
She told him about the loss of Naruto's godfather, Jiraiya. She told him how Ino had shocked everyone and fallen in love with an eccentric, socially stunted artist. She told him about her parents retirement and move away from Konoha to a secluded lake a few hours away. She told him about Chouji's restaurant and his unrelenting dream to get a Michelin star. She told him about the unlikely match of Kakashi Hatake and Anko Mitarashi and their hellion of a six year old.
At eleven, Sasuke realized he had egregiously overstayed his welcome. She had wanted him to leave hours before, but he had knocked on her door with no purpose, just because he hadn't been able to leave.
She walked him to the door, and he turned to face her, awkwardly debating whether he could hug her goodbye or whether he should keep his hands to himself.
She alleviated his need to decide when she wrapped her arms around him and leaned her head against his chest. He held her tentatively, afraid to put too much weight in his touch in case she suddenly remembered she should despise him. He slowly allowed his grip to tighten, and he could smell her shampoo and the most nostalgic scent of pure Sakura. His chest tightened in grief at the thought that this was goodbye, and he wondered what he could say to make the moment more bearable for himself.
Again, she beat him to the punch, her voice quiet but firm.
"Thank you for tonight. I know I was upset, but it did mean a lot,"
He let his grip on her shoulders loosen, and he pulled away.
"See you later, Sakura,"
"See you later.
Sasuke was able to pull away from her apartment more easily this time, though his ability to leave wasn't predicated by some new sense of closure.
On the contrary, Sasuke's lingering affection for the girl he once knew was more evident than ever, and he drove to the Marriott with a new realization.
He had to know if what they once had was still there. He didn't care if he deserved her or not because he knew he could do better this time.
Maybe there was nothing there but old memories and nostalgia.
But what if it was more than that? If he left again, he knew the next time he came back, he wouldn't be so lucky. She'd be married to some suave surgeon, and they'd live in a mini-mansion behind a picket white fence with some perfectly behaved twins.
Sasuke couldn't let himself fester in 'what ifs.' Before he left Konoha, he had to know if there was anything left or if he'd destroyed it all the day he left ten years before.
Lol. This was supposed to be a one shot. Clearly it's spiraling out of control.
Someone commented that I couldn't let them get together immediately, and I realized they were right. Sakura would be an idiot to just take him back.
Clearly your comments make a difference, so let me know your thoughts. I am so grateful to those who have commented. You have no idea how much your words mean.
My ten year high school reunion is coming up, so theoretically I'm the right age to know what kinds of things Sasuke and Sakura might remember. I never had my heart broken though. I married my HS sweetheart, so it's tough to envision what it would be like to see him after ten years apart. I can only hope I'm getting some of it right!