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Covenant
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Synopsis: In a harmonious world, who takes the blame?
What sins are punished and who decides?
Does vengeance leave with the last of its enemies?
As society rebuilds itself, Sakura learns some things can't be restored.
Not all beginnings start anew—not every ending brings closure.
And sometimes, peace isn't always that peaceful.
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3:8. A Memory
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EVENTUALLY, HER body was spent of its tears.
As the last wave trailed down her cheek, the emptiness crept back in, leaving Sakura stranded on the shore of sorrow. Only Sasuke at her side. The vast expanse of a forever altered existence in front of them.
She was scared to step into it. Scared to accept it.
All the loss should've ended with the war—what good was winning if it couldn't stop death? Why had they come home if Konoha couldn't save the ones who'd longed for it?
For Sakura, however, there was no more turning away. She'd been touched by grief. Now, no matter where she tried to run—whether she was ready to accept it or not—the rising tide would simply sweep her out further.
It already had.
Ino was gone.
Outside and inside this room, Ino was gone.
The realization echoed in her skull, quiet as the wind and loud as thunder. A truth already written into the fabric of the universe before she'd even perceived it.
Like the war they'd won or the passage of time. Ino was gone. Simple and complicated as that.
The memories Sakura had were all she'd ever get. Telling her mother about the pretty girl in class, having a ribbon tied into her hair, playing cards in a cramped tent and a tight hug goodbye. Too many to handle; too few for a woman who'd only just turned 23.
And one day, inevitably, those memories would fade like the rest. Dim and wane until she wouldn't remember the exact sparkle of Ino's grin or the arch of her brow. In her dreams, Ino's voice would lose its sound. Her words would lose their cadence. Her ghost would lose its form.
Slowly but surely, the pieces Ino left would slip away, too. Like Ino had herself, that dreary Saturday morning.
Ino was gone.
Yet, beyond Sakura's window—the sky was still blue. Six birds perched in nearby trees. Branches swayed, the mountains stood firm, cotton clouds drifted by. The sun would still be too bright to look at and the stars too far to touch; even though Ino was gone.
Something about the permanence of nature's beauty when she'd never see Ino's again had Sakura hiding her face in Sasuke's side.
Ino was gone and it should've ended the world. But just like Sakura, the world remained. Always turning, on and on, dragging everyone along with it. Even though she wasn't ready to move on at all.
"How long have I been here?" she whispered against Sasuke.
He'd laid them down some time ago, offering Naruto's arm as her pillow. If anyone were to walk in, they might think it strange that Sakura Haruno and Naruto Uzumaki were pressed together like this in a tiny, twin-sized bed. Might think it inappropriate for a taken man to lay so close to his broken teammate.
"Almost two months," he said.
Almost two months, she repeated, letting the answer sink in slowly. Two months…
Almost two months had passed outside this hospital. Two months without Ino. Two whole months of her life—gone.
"...It's May?"
"Aa." He twirled a strand of her hair around his fingers. "May twentieth."
On each syllable, the seal drummed his chakra through her. It felt good. And though she didn't want to feel good—this time, she let herself fall into it. It was too difficult to do anything else, anymore. Too pointless.
The harder she fought, the more she lost. Maybe she should've given up from the start.
Swallowing to steady her voice, she forced out, "What about the funeral?"
"Naruto said they had a small one last month."
"It… It already happened?" she heard herself asking, despite him having already confirmed.
"Just a formality. Due to…the circumstances, the Yamanaka Clan pushed it forward." Letting her hair fall, he curled his arm around her head. "You can have another."
Funerals didn't work like that. They could have another, but it wouldn't be the same. She knew it. Sasuke knew it.
Ino was gone and she'd missed the funeral. She'd missed everything. Her best and first friend—Sakura hadn't been there for her at all. For anything. Not since they came home. Not in Madara's bases. Not once after they signed the separation contract.
Not ever.
And somehow, Sasuke pretending her absence wasn't important hurt more than if he were honest. That in the end, once more and finally: She had let Ino down.
"Relax," he murmured. "It was Naruto who told me they want to hold the real one later. Shikamaru wasn't there either."
Fear had her scooting out of his warmth to look at him. "Where's Shikamaru? Why wasn't he there?"
He was the last remaining member of Team Ten. Did he survive the news? How had he heard? Who'd told him?
...What if Shikamaru was the one who found her?
Seal closed so she couldn't read his mind, Sasuke quietly studied her. His silence was terrifying. The controlled mask he wore, unfitting on Naruto's face; the tightening of his hand on her hip.
She couldn't help it. She was already thinking the worst.
Before his next words could shock her back into a stupor, Sakura thought, He's dead. Steeling her nerves into iron and catching her breath, she tensed for the next wave. Prepared herself to hear Sasuke deliver another obituary. Shikamaru's dead. The sedatives would help; would numb the pain enough to keep her heart beating.
For now. But what happened once she left this place? When a needle wasn't lodged in her veins and her will wasn't glued together with medication, what would be left?
Everyone she loved was dying. Even though they'd won.
Once the calmatives wore off and Konoha was still as beautiful as ever, despite Ino and Shikamaru being gone—what would become of her then? In this unchanging, relentless world, who would she have to give up next? Naruto? Sasuke?
How much could a person lose until nothing was left?
How much more would the battlefield demand? Victory was supposed to change all of this. Back home, they were supposed to be happy. They were supposed to heal—not stay trapped in whatever this new hell was called, where even those who were safe from war weren't safe at all.
"He's alive," he said, not nearly as quick as she'd needed. "I didn't ask where he is, though. Or why he wasn't there."
Relief swamped in on her next breath. "You swear?"
He sighed. "I wouldn't lie to you about that. Lay back down. It's nothing to panic over."
After a moment, she listened, falling into the crook of his arm. Her muscles unwound as the fear dissipated back into emptiness.
Shikamaru was still here. But Ino was gone.
An aching, hollow compromise.
"Did no one tell you about any of this?" Sasuke asked.
"No." Hesitating, she amended it with, "Well… I don't know," because maybe they had.
At least, maybe they'd tried.
When she gave up outright telling Naruto and Kakashi to leave, she'd simply ignored them when they came. One of them might've said something about the funeral or Shikamaru. She might've even heard it, at the time.
But the last clear thing she remembered was that plain Saturday morning and the sound of rain. The rest was swept away by the beeping machine beside her and the ever-flowing liquids pushed through her arm.
Fucking Kakashi.
The thought was so loud it silenced her own. One she'd heard him think more than once over the years. Before she could ask him why he always seemed so angry with sensei—
"Do you want to visit her grave?"
Sakura froze. "...What?"
"Ino's grave. We could go to it, if you want."
He spoke it so calmly he could've been asking about the weather, but the offer tightened like hands around her throat. Choking the air from her lungs.
Ino was gone. She'd let the grieving begin. But her grave? Seeing it? The chiseled marble; the freshly dug dirt? Flowers strewn about when she hadn't been there to add her own? Having Ino's body six feet beneath her feet, so close but gone forever?
"I—I… I can't," she stuttered. Not yet. A hundred years wouldn't prepare her for it.
"Why not?"
With Sasuke, however, she didn't want to admit she wasn't strong enough. "I mean, look at me…"
He glanced down. "What about it?"
"I'm—I'm a patient. They've got me all hooked up. I'm in a hospital gown." Out of obvious reasons, she concluded, "I can't just leave."
"Why can't you?" he insisted.
"They need to discharge me first."
"You're the head of this place, aren't you? Discharge yourself."
His argument made her protests feel silly.
"Well, I—"
"You've been here long enough. You can't stay here forever." Sasuke's sights slid to the bag by her bedside, narrowing. "And they shouldn't have put you on so much calmative. You need to wean off it sooner than later."
"Even if I wanted to," she didn't, "you need to get back before someone notices." Peering up at him, she saw a frown tilt his lips. "Don't you?"
"Sakura." The way he said her name had her eyes swelling with tears she'd thought were depleted. "I'm not on a time frame, and neither are you. No one's keeping you here but you."
"B-but when I'm off, Shizune's in charge."
Sliding his arm out from under her head, he propped up his temple with a palm. "Forget about that. You're leaving as soon or as late as you choose to." A calloused thumb swept the wetness from her cheeks. "If you don't want to visit her grave yet, you can go later. If you want to go today, then I'll take you today. Don't overcomplicate it."
Sakura was afraid to speak the next question. Afraid at any moment, he'd fall back to the cold Sasuke she remembered if she went too far. Pull away if she used his comfort to push forward rather than letting them settle in the safety of his middle ground.
But it was important. To her—to whatever this was, brewing in the inches between their bodies.
So she gathered her resolve and asked anyway. "Would you…still go with me if I went later?"
"If I can," he responded immediately.
"You wouldn't mind?"
"Do you have to ask?" Poking her forehead with his free hand, a hint of a smirk played on his mouth. "I'm the one offering. For you, Kakashi would probably allow it later, too—though I think you should go today." His gaze grew unfocused. "It doesn't get any easier with time, after all…"
The underlying concession made her pause.
Sasuke was always so steady. So sure and unwavering and strong that sometimes, Sakura forgot how much he'd lost in all of this. Long before the war or coming home, the people he loved were already gone.
But even on the nights his nightmares had tormented him, even when a crow's call brought forth Itachi's memory and he wasn't quick enough to hide it—he never cried. Never broke down like she did, or searched for calmatives to ease the pain. Never ended up tied to a hospital bed for almost two months, mindless and alone and burying the grief.
Sometimes, his strength made her overlook the fact that he was merely human.
"Should we go now, then?" he prompted, clearly and mistakenly taking her silence as an agreement.
Or, perhaps he wasn't that mistaken. His confidence had her answering before she could think too deeply on it. Had her saying the word faster than she even realized it was coming out—
"Yes." She blinked, brow furrowing with surprise.
Abruptly, he disentangled them and stood, offering her a hand. "Good. Let's go."
Still startled at herself, she let him tug her up from the bed without a fight. Leaned into his support when she stumbled, legs weak with underuse. Blankly watched him carefully slide the needle out of her arm and press his thumb against the entry to halt the bleeding.
It was so strange, having someone else care for her in this way. Having Sasuke be the one to do it.
He'd been gentle with her plenty of times; but Sasuke was a fighter, not a medic. Seeing him wipe down the equipment and hang it all in its proper place—dab her injection wound with ointment, seal it closed with a bandage—was like watching a bull maneuver around a china shop. Successfully.
Strange enough that when he said, "Stay here. Don't…do anything drastic. I'll be right back," and ported away, she simply sat on the bed and stared at the door, almost confused about what was happening.
…Was she really going to Ino's grave?
Was Ino really gone?
Just last week, though, Sakura had seen her. Only a few days ago, Ino was smiling and laughing next to the cash register. But now, suddenly—she wasn't here, anymore?
Now, Sakura needed to visit the memorial? To see Ino—she had to visit a grave…?
How could a piece of stone ever capture all that Ino was?
How could Ino be gone? How could Ino leave? Ino wouldn't do such a thing; not to her. The girl who'd found her crying behind a tree and stabbed the future Hokage for her sake—Ino couldn't have just left her.
"Here," Sasuke said, yanking her back into reality. She hadn't noticed his return. "Change into this."
Her sights fell to the clothes folded neatly in his outstretched, waiting hands.
"Where'd you get these?"
"Naruto's place."
Taking them carefully, she shook out what he brought and laid it all on bed, studying the pieces. White pants. A red tunic. Underwear. Bindings. Slightly more formal attire than she'd typically wear out and about, although they were clothes she'd brought with her to Naruto's. In the event something important happened, and she needed to dress a bit more nicely…
…Was she really leaving this room?
The idea was growing less appealing the more real it became. Her acquiescence hadn't been well-thought in the first place.
But Sasuke patiently observed her, eyes shifting between the clothes and her face. An expectation lingering in the air. His unspoken thoughts were nearly palpable—Hurry and put them on—despite him closing off his mind.
She wondered what he'd think about that. How she knew him so well now, sometimes she could read the subtlest of his hints.
"Did Naruto say it was fine?" she muttered, fingers dancing over the red qipao.
"To get your clothes?" Sasuke plopped into one of the nearby chairs. "Yes, he allowed it."
"That's not what I meant."
Something like a chuckle filled the air. "Get dressed. It's okay."
"...Fine. But don't look."
"Bit late for that."
Glaring over her shoulder, she leveled him with annoyance. Any other time, the joke might've made her blush. His timing was really awful.
"This is already hard for me without you being like that, Sasuke."
He held her gaze for a moment before mutely tilting his head away and covering his eyes. Had it been the real Naruto, she'd have thought him a sulking puppy, the way his lips pursed under his palm.
When she was certain he wouldn't peek, her vision fell back to the clothes.
The amount of calmative in her system would last a few hours. Was probably enough to soften the heartache; enough to get her through it. And he was right—it wouldn't be easier tomorrow. It wouldn't be easier in the summer.
A whole lifetime couldn't make this trip any less painful.
Slowly, she untied the hospital gown. Wrapped the bindings around herself. Tugged the red shirt down and the white pants up. They hung from her body in a way that told her she'd probably lost too much weight.
Almost two months she'd lived in a world without Ino, and all she had to show for it were slacks that now needed a belt and wobbly feet. A bloodied bandage on her arm. Shallow, drugged thoughts.
She'd missed the funeral.
"I'm done," she said. Words she'd spoken dozens of times over the past few years, but never so fitting as they were in this moment.
Sasuke didn't seem to notice. Nodding, his hand fell away. A brief inspection later, he pushed up from the chair and strode to the door, holding it open for her with brows raised in a way Naruto could never hope to imitate.
Head pitching towards the hallway, he coaxed, "You ready?"
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Somehow, she made it to the front desk. The trainee stationed there gaped at the two shinobi before her, wide-eyed and mouth jumping like a fish. Sakura couldn't remember ever leaving the room.
After a second, the young girl found her voice. "H-Haruno-sama! You're finally—I mean, what are you—"
"She's leaving, obviously. Sign her out," said Sasuke, in Naruto's voice and from Naruto's lips but without the jinchuriki's usual pleasantry. "...Hurry up."
The trainee flinched in surprise, turning her gaze to the floor. "Ah, yes, I'm sorry, Uzumaki-sama. Forgive me. Uh, let me call Shizune and—"
"You don't need to call anyone. She's your and Shizune's superior. She's discharging herself." Sasuke stared at the clipboard the girl clutched to her chest, then pointedly at the pen on the counter. "Write it down."
"...But—"
"Let's go, Sakura," he interrupted, shoving his hands in his pockets and strolling towards the door.
Unsure what else to do, she nodded sympathetically at the frightened girl and jogged after him. "Sasuke… Are you sure this is okay?"
"Positive."
The sun hit her like fire as she stepped out the doors on his heels, blinding her. Forcing her to trip back into the entryway. It could've been the sky's brilliance. Could've been how ordinary the village remained, even though Ino wasn't in it.
Whatever it was, it glued her feet just beneath the awning's shadow.
But she was already out of bed. Already checked out of the hospital. She had no arguments left for why she ought to spin around and run back to the safety of that white-walled room.
Sasuke stopped in the middle of the road and waited, regarding her with his ever-blank countenance. On Naruto's face, it didn't fit.
Infusing a small dose of chakra, he ordered, "Come on."
While it didn't hurt, and he wasn't forcing her, the feeling brought back memories she wished to forget entirely. It wasn't like he meant for that reaction, though. His words weren't cruel. The infusion wasn't so strong she couldn't ignore it, if she wanted to.
He wasn't here to wound her, she reminded herself, sealing the complaint ready to lash out behind her lips. He'd only come to help.
…Right?
That's what this was, wasn't it? Sasuke—helping? Despite his ways being so different than Naruto's, or Kakashi's.
So Sakura moved towards him, slow as a slug, and let him lead her away from the hospital. Let him drag her towards the War Memorial, where everyone she loved would live on forever.
Where Ino laid now. The only place Sakura would ever find her, anymore.
Four blocks from the gravesite, she froze in place, suddenly certain there was absolutely no way she could go. Not today. It was too soon. The sun was so bright. Her clothes didn't fit well. The birds were loud. Every inch forward summoned a new reason against this horrid trip through town.
"M-maybe I should go back," she reasoned.
Pivoting to her again, Sasuke shrugged. "If that's what you want, then I'll take you to Naruto's. You aren't going back to the hospital."
Frowning, Sakura peered over his shoulder towards the corner of the city where they were headed. She didn't want to go there, but she didn't want to go to Naruto's, either. That place was surely filled with looks and touches she couldn't process right now. She wasn't whole enough to hold a crying Naruto, or well enough to answer Hinata's well-meaning questions.
She'd rather be alone. "Can I go to my apartment?"
He hesitated so long she just knew he wanted to say no. "Naruto's would be better."
"Do you know if my kitchen's fixed yet?"
"...Aa."
"You know, or it's finished?"
As he closed the distance between them, her vision dropped to the dirt road.
A couple passing by whispered at each other, trying to hide their stares. Naruto Uzumaki and Sakura Haruno close enough to embrace wasn't as bad as them sharing a twin bed, but with how protectively Sasuke leaned over her—it was probably still odd enough to cause rumblings.
His voice lowered to a murmur, "Do you really not want to go?"
"I don't know…"
"It's been two months. You'll feel worse if you don't do it now."
Of course, he was right. Sasuke was always right.
The truth didn't make it any easier, however. Her feeling worse in the future didn't make her feel better in the moment.
"I know that. I know that, Sasuke, and I'm trying, but… I just don't know if I can," she spoke at her feet. Hating herself for being so weak.
A second passed; then he stepped back. "Alright. I need to stop by somewhere before we head to Naruto's, though. It'll be quick."
Brows raised, her sights jumped up to him. Where could Sasuke possibly need to go in Konoha? He hated their hometown.
…Did he need to see someone? For some reason, that possibility reared an ugly bitterness in her throat. But until this morning, he'd been a prisoner who received no visitors beyond his former teammates, as far as she knew.
And now that she was thinking about it—how was he allowed to walk around in disguise like this? Wouldn't he get in trouble if he stayed out too long, pretending to be Naruto? It'd been the middle of the night when he and Kakashi switched places, and that had happened before the pardon. There wasn't half the vitriol aimed at him then.
"Aren't you supposed to have a jonin guard?" she queried, touching on the subject lightly as she could manage.
"Aren't you a jonin?" Turning down a road to their left, he motioned for her to follow. "The guard's with Naruto. He's transformed into me until we return."
It wasn't really the answer she was looking for; although she hadn't really asked the question she wanted to, either. "I see…"
Obeying his direction quietly, he steered her into the back alleys, away from the scrutiny on the main streets.
Even in this roundabout way, however, the path was familiar. Sakura knew the village like the back of her hand. The closer they drew, the more she wanted to ask. But she gulped it down, unwilling to shatter what he guided them towards.
On this side of town, there was only one thing this far out. Only one place that hadn't yet been touched by Konoha's rebuilding.
Her suspicions were proven right when Sasuke halted in front of the wooden archway of the Uchiha Compound. Edges cracked and worn from the weather; the gate hung half-open, its lock broken. Careful not to pry, she fastened her gaze on him, ignoring the empty streets on the other side.
He stared up at the red fan painted atop it, something half-sweet as nostalgia and half-bitter like coffee flowing through the seal. The vacant look on his face would've never given away the conflict underneath.
After a minute, she reached out to gently touch his arm. "Are you going in, Sasuke?"
Pulling his eyes from the archway, he glanced her way. "I am."
She wasn't sure what they were doing here. Maybe, since he'd only been released today, he always meant to stop by when he finished with her. Or maybe he couldn't help being drawn back, now that he was free.
Either way, it didn't seem like something she should intrude upon.
"Do you want me to wait out here?"
But Sasuke only shook his head and paced forward. "You can come."
Still uncertain, she hurried behind him, trying her best not to be nosy. It all felt as if it wasn't meant to be seen. The weeds poking through the dirt roads. The houses, chipped and dwindling with age. The hush of vacant buildings.
A seance waiting to happen if anyone looked too deeply.
When she'd flown through it two years ago on a mission he'd given her, it hadn't held the same gravity. Back then, it was merely a coordinate to get to and get out of as quickly as possible. In the daylight, though, without the panic of battle behind her—it was more than a forgotten corner of a ransacked village.
Near the edge of the compound, Sasuke stopped again. So concentrated on his footsteps, she nearly smashed her nose into his back.
They stood awkwardly in front of a plain, tan house, smaller than some of the ones near the arched entrance. A few of the top-floor windows were missing panels. An empty flower pot sat lonely beside the door, its contents long shriveled and gone.
Releasing the transformation, he met her bewildered gaze. His hair was longer than she last remembered, falling over the Rinnegan and hiding his power. The doorframe behind him seemed to shrink his shoulders.
Like this, he almost appeared a boy.
Sakura held her breath.
"This is my family's house," he said softly. Surprised, she peeked at it in her periphery. As a child, she'd always pictured him living in a mansion. Something like the Hokage Tower or the huge homes the wealthier civilians liked to buy. But this house was no bigger than the one she'd grown up in. Its faded door squeaked as he forced it open. "...Come in."
Like she had all morning, Sakura followed him inside, not thinking too deeply about why or puzzling over the meaning. And though it was empty, she still slid her sandals off and bowed before proceeding into the living room.
It was the first time she'd been invited to his house, after all. Manners were important, even if the only one around to see them wouldn't care.
In the hush, she inspected the quaint room, mindful of her expression and tightly concealing her thoughts.
Covered in dust, the furniture showed signs of sun-bleaching. Things were lying about as if they'd only been left there yesterday. Pictures hung on the walls that Sakura drew her eyes away from, certain he'd withdraw his invitation if her curiosity leaked too loudly into the seal.
"Looks a little different than it did in Izanami," he muttered beside her, staring at a shelf adorned with photos.
Dropping her survey, she refocused on him. "You were in Konoha?"
"...My family was alive, so I had no reason to leave."
Was he willing to open up a little more? Was his childhood home cracking open the seals?
How much would he allow her?
"What was it like?" She kept her voice calm and gentle. "Being in Izanami."
"Better than reality. If it were possible, I would've stayed in it forever. I doubt I could come back here without having experienced it… Those memories feel as real as these do."
"Didn't you come by during the war?"
"Even if I'd wanted to, Madara probably wouldn't have let me. This is the first time since I left the village… Although I hadn't visited this place in years before I left, either." He picked up one of the smaller pictures, wiping its frame with the sleeve of his shirt. "The Third Hokage moved me out of the compound after the massacre."
Sakura was at a loss for words. It didn't sound like he was sharing for comfort, nor did it appear he'd come for anything in particular. He simply stared at the photo in his hands, a small smile on the corner of his lips.
But she knew she didn't want the conversation to end on that, so she racked her brain for something relevant. "Are—are you thinking of moving back in?"
"Probably not." Setting the frame down, he gingerly lifted another and rubbed it clean. "The Council wants to buy most of the land."
She gasped. "How could they ask for that?! Bastards… Of course, you won't." When he didn't respond, she added, "You aren't going to, are you?"
"I'm thinking about it," he said with a shrug.
"Are you serious, Sasuke? You can't! Absolutely not. This belongs to the Uchiha. They have no right to it—no right to even try!"
"I'd keep the shrine and a portion of the compound around it. The rest is empty houses… Itachi would've wanted Konoha to put it to use. There's no reason for me to keep it all."
"What about this house?"
Looking towards a sliding door on the side of the living room, his fingers tightened on the frame in his hand. "What do you think I should do with it?"
"Keep it!" insisted Sakura, shocked he'd even posed the question. "It's your family's. You should at least save this one, even if you sell the rest."
He chuckled. "Alright. I'll keep it."
Everything about this was strange. His bringing her into his home; the apparent lack of objective in doing so. That she seemed to care more about what happened to his family's legacy than he did.
"Sasuke… Did you—come here for something?" she wondered aloud.
"I wasn't planning to. I'm not certain myself, but—" After another long glance, he propped the second photo back in its spot. Lightly brushed the shelf off, sending dust into the still air. "What you're struggling with now is something I've dealt with my whole life, Sakura. Sometimes people leave without any reason, and we'll never know why."
Eyes widening, she watched him take in the empty living room with a quiet resignation.
"I used to think I was cursed because of it," he continued. "That anyone I cared too much about was destined to die."
She wanted to hold him, but she fisted her hands in her pants and stayed rooted where she was. "...You aren't cursed, Sasuke."
He hummed, long and thoughtful. "Regardless. The people who once lived here might be gone, but they're still important. There's no graves I can visit when I want to see them, but I suppose I can just come here instead."
"Was your family not buried…?"
"None of the Uchiha killed that night were. No where that's marked, anyway."
What did one say to such an awful revelation? "I'm sorry," was all she could think of.
"It's not your fault. You've nothing to apologize for."
While it sounded like he meant it, the seal was churning with something dark she couldn't name. A shadow passed over his expression.
Sasuke was always so controlled—but in moments like these, she wished he'd break like anyone else would. Wished that he felt safe enough to do it with her. It wasn't healthy, holding all those emotions inside for so long.
What Konoha did wasn't right. The village had taken too much from him; he would've been justified in doing more than peacefully standing here in the abandoned home he grew up in, wrangling all his anger into nothing but a slight twitch of his fingers.
If Sakura thought about it too hard, she might come to agree with his decision to leave as a genin. If she thought about it too hard—she might even understand why he joined Madara.
They weren't even properly buried? An entire founding clan?
Sasuke had only been a child. Whatever his clan plotted couldn't rationalize such cruelty.
If he was here to remember them, after all this time—she'd help him as best she could. She wouldn't let him hurt alone any longer. If he'd let her.
"Did your family have a butsudan?"
"Aa."
"Can you show me?"
A breath passed between them before he made a decision, nodding and making for the staircase behind her. He unlatched a small room at the top, ushering her in first. Sparkling as if it were new, an ornate shrine furnished the back wall, golden offerings and fake flowers on its shelves.
He stayed in the hallway as Sakura approached it.
"Have you put anything here for your parents or brother?"
"No."
"Do you have a picture of them all?" She pointed at the empty middle shelf. "You can put it here."
Without responding, he turned and walked back down the steps. Searching the cabinets for incense, she found one last pack in a bottom drawer.
Half a minute later he fell in beside her, placing one of the pictures he'd been holding earlier on the shrine. "...This is the day Itachi graduated from the Academy."
"He looks so young," she noted, studying the photo. A boy who couldn't have been older than ten stood between two grinning, proud parents. The mother held a baby and the father propped a large hand on his son's tiny shoulder.
"He was."
"Is that you?"
"Mhm…"
"You were cute. Well, you still are." Rather than let him reply with something snappy, Sakura broke the incense she'd found in half and held it up to him. "Light it."
Sasuke glanced at the sticks in her hand. Their ends smoked into small flames. Shaking them once to put it out, she dropped them into the holder and stepped back, falling onto her knees. Patted the ground next to her.
"Let's pray to them."
He regarded her blankly. "I don't believe in that."
"Just come," she pressed, frowning. "Don't be disrespectful."
Despite scoffing under his breath, he bent down to her right. Peeking at him, she smiled as he closed his eyes and clasped his hands together in front of his chest.
Then she closed her own, threw a chakra barrier around their seal, and did the same.
Hello. My name is Sakura Haruno. I'm your—What exactly was she?—youngest son's teammate. I'm sorry for intruding into your home. It's lovely. I can see that you took good care of it.
And what exactly did she want to say?
…Sasuke's all grown up now. He's very handsome…and kind, in his own way. I'm sure he's worried you over the years, but please don't look too harshly on what he's done. He missed you a lot, I think. And I owe him my life, so I owe all of you my life, too. For bringing him into the world, and raising him as well as you did. Thank you.
Once she was done, she stood and leaned on the far wall, waiting. Watched Sasuke finish his prayer with a half-grin on her face. A window across from her painted his kneeling form in the afternoon sun, giving him the appearance of something otherworldly as the incenses' smoke wafted around.
For someone who didn't believe in it, he sure was taking a while. Not that she'd ever say as much.
Eventually, he got up, not once looking at her as he exited the room. They made their way back downstairs in silence, stairs groaning under their feet. And when he pushed open the front door again, waving her out, she didn't peek back at the empty room behind her.
If it were Naruto, she might've asked what he said to his parents. Perhaps would've inquired more about the trophy on one of the side tables, or the book he snagged and sealed into the scroll wrapped around his wrist as they left.
With Sasuke, however, she had to be cautious about taking yards when he gave an inch. Especially with something this tender and private.
"You should visit Ino's grave today, Sakura," he said, interrupting her musings. The compounds' gates within sight. "...I know how much she meant to you."
Ino's name yanked her back onto that lonely shore.
Of course, he did. He, better than anyone, would.
After all her threats and pleading, all the anguish she felt during their sessions under Madara's men—Sasuke was well aware how important Ino was.
Had been.
Ino was gone. In the calmative and the quiet of Sasuke's home, where nothing had changed and the world was still turning, it was almost easy to let it slip from her mind. She could almost pretend that Ino was merely a few blocks away in a flower shop, yelling at two new employees and snipping thorns off roses.
How did anyone process the absence of someone who'd always been there? Everything but her felt the same. The warm sun, the soft breeze. The vacant satisfaction of being home.
They said Ino hanged herself. But why would Ino just leave her like that? How could she?
Hadn't she thought at all about the people she'd leave behind…?
It wasn't like Sakura didn't know that she was gone. If it were some elaborate, twisted prank—some genjutsu she was trapped in—Ino would've appeared in the last two months. Truly appeared. Would've been at her bedside, cutting apples, and brushing her hair, and rambling away.
The weight in her chest and the sickness churning her stomach confirmed it. The memory of that pleasantly unremarkable Saturday was painfully clear—down to the heat of the water Hinata washed their mugs in and the coolness of her pillow when she'd napped.
But knowing and understanding were wholly different things.
And she knew the weight wouldn't subside tomorrow. The nausea would linger for years to come. That awful Saturday morning would probably be the last thing she remembered on her deathbed.
What good was running from something she couldn't change? Something already decided by the Gods.
"...You'll come with me?" she whispered, voice trembling as they exited the compound.
"I need to be accompanied by a jonin at all times. I'll go where you go."
She wasn't ready. She'd never be ready. But if Ino was really gone, Sakura would do her best to see her off right. Her very first and best friend.
Ino deserved more from her than terrified avoidance.
"Let's… Let's go to the Memorial."
.
.
Ino Yamanaka.
The world narrowed until only Sakura and the grave existed.
Her name was carved into a dark gray stone jutted into the earth. A block of ground in front of it with no grass. Flowers draped all around, every color and size.
Falling into the dirt, Sakura grabbed the plaque with both hands to steady herself.
Ino Yamanaka. The only thing left of her.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Ino." There was so much she had to apologize for. "I'm sorry I missed your funeral." So much more. "I'm sorry I made us rivals when we were genin. I'm sorry I lost your jacket when you lent it to me. I'm sorry I made you help out so much in medical when you were tired."
But none of that stuff mattered.
"I'm—I'm sorry I let you get hurt. I should've done more to protect you when you were all alone, Ino. I'm sorry. You were the only person I could tell anything to. I'm sorry I didn't see how much you needed me before—"
A garbled choke stole the rest of her words as she pressed her head to the gravestone and cried.
sorry for the delay! hope you had a great week.
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and thanks to Leech for beta-reading