"You'll fall in place in time,
Just follow,
No thought, no face, give up,
Just follow like you're blind"
-Eric Sparrow and the Life of Him Hot Mulligan
Then.
"Sasuke," the boy glanced over at his mother, Mikoto, who was crouched on the cracked tile floor, picking through a cardboard box he had yet to empty. Her slender hands were wiping at her dark eyes, and he realized, with an uncomfortable quiver, that there was water dripping down her face. "I – I'm sorry it's taken me this long to come over and help you."
"No, mom, you're fine." He hesitated in grabbing the next clean bathroom towel to fold.
"With your father and his…" she winced and sighed, biting at her mouth. "I never know when you're here. You've had… I don't - " she tossed the object back into the box, which gave a loud clatter in the small room. She jumped at the sound and frowned in an apology, quickly pulling the object back out and inspecting it for damage.
"I know you need space from us… me, that's why you…" she folded into herself for a moment, arms crossing between her chest and legs, face pressed into her knees and Sasuke listened helplessly as her breath rushed in and out of her lungs. "I didn't mean to drive you away." She sobbed; voice garbled as she spoke weakly into her body.
Sasuke shrank, a layer of icy dread rested around his shoulders like a heavy cloak. He shuffled closer to her, feeling completely out of place with her small breakdown, in the apartment he had been relegated to because of his big breakdown.
He kneeled beside her, resting a hand on her shoulder. Her head shot up, nearly identical sets of eyes meeting, and Sasuke realized for the first time how tired his mother looked. She had matching navy bruises decorating the soft skin under her eyes and elegant stress lines ran along her cheeks.
"Mom, you didn't," he shook his head, palms damp and heart racing. "You didn't push me away. It was…" his voice died as his brain worked to explain what he couldn't describe to himself. A frustrated hand ran through his hair, and he offered her a hollow smile. "It wasn't you; I can promise you that."
Mikoto slowly unfolded, coming to rest on her haunches, a slender hand reaching up and wrapping her fingers around her son's. "He's said that before too." She breathed softly; sniffling, black eyes blank as she stared at the faux wooden grains in the cupboards.
"Who?" Sasuke asked, a black brow raising, but she simply blinked and shook her head, squeezed his hand before dropping it.
"No one," she said, "excuse me." She stepped away from him and into the bathroom. He was left kneeling on the cracked flooring, still slightly sticky even after he had deep cleaned the entire space, and he frowned as he stood and turned back to the living room. He was in the process of folding a shirt, mulling over the uncomfortable show of emotion, when she came back in, the redness of her cheeks was gone now, any blemish of streaked mascara had been removed, and she was holding herself as though everything were normal.
They were back to business now.
The small glance through a crack in the wall of his ever put together mother had snapped shut in the short moments she had left the room. And like a distasteful book, she had put the moment back on the shelf to gather dust.
She strode through the small kitchenette, efficiently placing freshly cleaned glasses into the least problematic cupboard, rearranging the paper towel holder and the container of bleach wipes on the countertop.
"How have you been, Sasuke? Are your – are you healing well after your trip to the hospital?"
It was airy, remote, as though he had gone to the hospital to visit a friend and not in the back of an ambulance. He shifted, instinctively his hands wrapped around his forearms, defensiveness dripping into him at the way she spoke so nonchalantly.
He ground his jaw and forced himself let go of his arms.
"I'm fine, nothing but a distant memory."
He saw her nod out of the corner of his eyes and silence ate them. Nothing but the shuffle of fabric, the tap of glass objects as they were arranged in a cupboard, the rumbling of traffic outside of the room. Suddenly, he resented his mother for invading this space. This shitty space he barely fit into, where her elegance looked so misplaced, and her polished exterior made him feel ever more the fuckup he knew himself to be.
He frowned at the shirt in his hands.
"Have classes started yet?" she asked quietly, nonchalant tone still intact, and he sighed aloud.
"Can we not?"
"What? You don't live with us; how would I know if your classes started yet?" it was spoken almost softly, disguised in a mask of motherly worry. She fell quiet for a few heartbeats, though when maybe a minute passed and he did not answer, she added with an edge of stubbornness anyone else would have missed. "I don't even know what school you're planning on going to."
"Jesus Christ," Sasuke muttered, tossing the shirt back into the hamper and dug his fingertips into his eyes. "I've already told you both where I'm going."
He didn't have to look at her to see the thin pursed line of her lips, the single black brow that would gracefully arch in irritation – the one dead giveaway she had. "Well maybe, dearest, you had changed your mind."
"In three weeks?" He retorted with an exhausted sigh. "I've told you both before, I don't understand why you keep asking. I'm going to 3Cs."
He heard the gentle clinking of objects stop, and he imagined the way her black eyes narrowed at him. But he refused to look up at her, he wasn't going to engage in this argument again.
"I don't understand," her voice was low but riddled with sarcasm, "why on earth you would choose the community college when we could easily get you into the University of Konoha as a legacy Uchiha. They would love to have you, your father has already spoken with Iruka, you remember Itachi's friend, he's in admissions with the university now. He knows you would enter as prelaw, the Uchiha path already well established, you won't even be waitlisted for the bigger classes. It's all already prepared for you."
"I've already made it clear; I don't want to be a legacy student."
She tsked at him. "You're so young, Sasuke, you don't know what you want."
"I know for a fact that I don't want to be a fucking lawyer, spending every waking hour of my life getting rich off of other's misfortunes. I know I barely even want to be an Uchiha." He hissed, finally looking up at her, and nearly snarling at the fact she looked so unimpressed.
"Fine, Sasuke, take up your little mantle as the lost, misunderstood son. Move away from the family, your unwavering support, do something different." Her brow arched challengingly again, a hand resting on her hip. "But what ever will you do at…" her lips peeled back with disgust, "community college? Will you pursue one of their illustrious business degrees, become the CEO of a Fortune 500 or be on Forbes 30 under 30?"
"Is this why you came here?" it felt silly, to feel the stinging behind his eyes and the way his heart was racing. Any iota of energy he had been gathering for the day was cannibalized as his mother breathed the words out into the space. His shoulders hunched and he wanted to smoke, to crawl back into bed, to stare into the void until he didn't exist anymore. "Just to point out the fact that I'm a failure before I've even begun?"
"Sasuke – "
"No," he shook his head weakly and a thread of a laugh pushed from his throat. "It makes sense. You know, I thought maybe you would have called them, or Itachi if he hadn't been fucking his away across Europe." a broad and unhinged smile broke across his face. "I knew dad wouldn't have; he wouldn't have even lost sleep. But I thought you might have called, if you bothered to check. But it only ever could have been Naruto." he chuckled, hollow and off beat, as his arms wrapped feebly across his chest. "How could I have forgotten; I am nothing except the unnecessary second son of Fugaku and Mikoto Uchiha."
She repeated his name, with more force this time, but he stared at her blankly.
"It was lovely seeing you mother," all traces of laughter or manic smiles had disappeared from his face, and all she was left to see what an empty mask. "Give father my regards."
.
.
.
Sasuke sighed and tapped his phone screen under his desk. He nearly growled at the fact barely a minute had passed since this godforsaken class had started. He looked up at the woman at the front of the class. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a brutal bun, thick black glasses sat on her nose, and she was watching the twelve students like a hawk.
"Now," she nearly yelled at them, narrowing her eyes. "Many of you are likely here because you need an easy A," she lifted her hands to make air quotes and frowned at them. "Many people believe that art classes are easy. I am here to show you that painting here at Konoha County Community College is not easy."
Sasuke sighed again and sank down into the uncomfortable plastic seat, his head resting against his palm, elbow resting on the desktop. He hated the first day of classes, it was so pointless. Certain that the policies and procedures of the syllabus would be step one, he thumbed through his phone, insufferably bored and irate at the fact he had to take the damn art credit.
The woman was going on about her passion for art, her innumerable years of experience that Sasuke quickly translated into her being out of touch with modern technology. As she continued, his brain cycled her voice out, cringing every time his seatmate crunched on another fistful of chips. A small, shattered chip piece skittered across the desk in front of him, and Sasuke frowned. Bored with his phone, he quickly texted Naruto to ask about running later before shuffling the cigarette pack in his pocket, black eyes unfocused on the back of the student in front of him.
"-ura Haruno."
Sasuke's neck almost snapped as he looked up at the soft voice he begrudgingly recognized. He hadn't realized it was her, the elven girl from Roasted was sitting in front of him. Though her hair wasn't the same anymore. He squinted, maybe the shitty lighting made it look more blue today than purple like it had been the last time he saw her. It was up in a messy bun, a few tendrils highlighting the elegant curve of her neck.
"I'm majoring in art and hopefully going to get a fine arts master. I prefer oils on canvas as my medium, but I'm reasonably flexible. I'm hoping to meet other people passionate about art here."
He had barely met her, but for some reason he could hear the way she smiled as she spoke. His heart seized in his chest while his mind raced through their prior interaction at Roasted. Had she said she was in this class? Had she told him she was also going to 3Cs? His molars ground together, and he suddenly felt nauseous. The weird girl from Roasted that he had admitted to thinking was cute was here in his fucking class. His hands started to sweat, and it took him a moment to realize the teacher's angry eyes were on him.
"Hey, boy behind Ms. Haruno? It's your turn."
His brain clicked and he realized in horror that the entire class was now turned to look at him, including her, and his entire body nearly jumped up and fled the room.
"What?" he said weakly.
"Don't be a smartass," the teacher snapped, and Sasuke swallowed, eyes dropping to the desk in front of him, static seemingly danced along the grainy surface.
what does she want?
There was a click of the teacher's pen and out of his peripheral vision he saw Sakura motion at him from under her desk. He met her vivid green eyes, and she mouthed to him Name and major.
"I-I'm Sasuke. Math major."
The woman tsked at him. "For a math major you seem pretty stupid. Now, you're an Uchiha, correct?"
Startled he looked up at her again with wide black eyes. She was frowning, the expression twisting her wrinkles deeper into her skin.
"My god, boy, you're colored like one, are you an Uchiha or not?"
His hands curled loosely in his lap, and he vaguely saw Sakura's jaw drop in his peripheral vision. He nodded dumbly, brows furrowed, mouth opening and closing like he wanted to say something, but nothing worked its way out. The woman sighed loudly, clicking her pen again and noting something down on her clipboard.
"Never would've thought I'd be teaching a son of the Fugaku Uchiha, though I admit I'm surprised it's here."
It was said under her breath but transcended the small space flawlessly and his eyes blew wide with the statement. Her words impaled themselves into his stomach and without thinking he stood, plastic chair screeching along the concrete floor, noisily interrupting the next student introducing themselves. The class turned again to look at him, but they only saw his back as his legs carried him quickly from the room.
He thought someone might have called his name, but he kept walking. Hands stuffed deep into his pockets, shoulders hunched, eyes darting along the unfamiliar hallways in search of an exit. The grey walls both loomed over him and pressed uncomfortably close into his chest, the air lethargic and heavy in his lungs as he tried to breath. The air was musky, mold certainly growing somewhere behind the old walls. His teeth were grinding together as his father's name ricochetted around the confines of his brain. He cursed, skin prickling as he passed strangers in the stupid dark halls. He knew they were staring at him as he pressed through. He needed an exit, any exit, get the fuck out of the building and away from all the eyes he swore were watching him.
He finally caught the glaring red sign signaling an exit and nearly threw his body into the metal door. Sun immediately soaked into him, bathing him in blinding light and pleasant heat. His tired eyes stung, water springing forth. He glanced around himself, noting he had escaped into the confines of a concrete outer courtyard made of harsh lines and awkward angles. He inhaled and the scent of a nearby dumpster mixed with exhaust fumes made his nose wrinkle, but it wasn't suffocating and embedding into the tender flesh of his lungs. He pulled a cigarette from his pack with shaking hands and lit it. The smoke twisted past his lips, and he shuffled back against the brick wall. He sat back on his haunches, letting the sharp stone dig into his back as he curled around himself and dug his palms almost painfully into his eyes.
son of the Fugaku Uchiha.
He had hoped to escape his lineage here, at this shitty little school where elites would never think to go. He ground his teeth, inhaling angrily on his cigarette. He pulled his hands away from his eyes and massaged the bridge of his nose. This was fine, he could just drop that class, get away from whatever nonsense that teacher had going on. Maybe it would be fine. He could do this.
"Hey," a voice said timidly beside him, startling him. He jumped, jabbing himself in the eye with his thumb and cigarette dropping to the ground and rolling away when he yelped.
"Fuck!" he muttered, a hand coming up to cup his eye while the other glared at the intruder.
"Oh shit! I'm so sorry!"
Elven eyes were framed by worried pink brows. Sakura skittered in front of him, scooping the escaping tobacco from the pavement before stepping back to him while blowing on it. Her fingers pressed along the filter before she frowned and lifted the hem of her shirt to wipe at it again. Seemingly finished with her actions, she unleashed a bright smile on him that caused his heart to stutter, and she held out the cigarette. "Here!"
"I don't… why did you blow on it?" his brows were furrowed, and his lips were pulled up with a hint of disgust but mostly confusion.
"Why did I – oh!" she nodded and chuckled. "I was cleaning it off for you since it fell on the ground and the ground is dirty." she shrugged.
"But…" he frowned lightly. "You wiped it off with your fingers." She met his eyes with a raised pink brow, and he swallowed uncomfortably. "And you breathed all over it. I… I don't know you like that."
"Ah, damn," Sakura bit the inside of her mouth before shrugging and smiling. "I didn't think about it like that. My bad." she glanced at the object in her hand before grinning apologetically. "Do you have another?"
"… yeah?"
"Okay," without another thought she popped his cigarette into her mouth. "Well, I'll finish this one then. I was going to ask you after class for a smoke anyways."
"Aa." he hummed quietly, rubbing gently at his hurting eye while he pulled another stick from his pack. They shared a few silent breathes, soft clouds twisting between them with the sun shining pleasantly on their skin.
Sasuke noticed the way she glanced down at him, with her mouth tilted to the side. She was posted beside him, leaning against the building, a foot kicked up underneath of her, and he desperately hoped she didn't want to have a conversation with him. His brain was too frazzled for such things, still mulling over options to get away from that damned woman while maintaining his enrollment. He looked away from Sakura. Scratching the back of his head in a gesture he only later realized was too reminiscent of his best friend, he wondered if maybe he should just drop out of college totally.
Education couldn't be worth going through this kind shit show every day.
This was why he didn't like to leave his apartment.
"I'm, uh, I'm sorry about class." Sakura offered softly. "That was uncalled for on too many fronts."
He shrugged.
"Do you…" she hesitated, and he wished she would just leave him be. "Do you have panic attacks often?" it was gentle, and he couldn't find any hidden judgement in the question, not like the hidden edges his family would embed in such a phrase.
He lifted a shoulder again, not offering any further response, and they fell back into silence. He could feel her standing near him, not close enough to be touching, not even close enough to be in his personal space, but he felt her there. Existing in the universe around him, like a new planet suddenly appeared in his solar system. Something to orbit. Something to take note of. He sighed and glanced at her out of the corner of his eyes.
Her face was tilted up into the sunlight, eyes closed, seemingly enjoying the moments spent outside of the building. The light nearly hallowed around her, highlighting the heart shape of her face and the mess that her hair was in. He noticed, now in proper light, that it was definitely blue, and no longer purple. But her pink brows remained. He puzzled on that a moment, but her eyes opened, and he frowned and looked away from her again.
"I get them sometimes too." She exhaled and flicked ashes. "My grandmother, Tsunade," he can hear her smiling again and wondered when exactly in the singular time they met before today his brain had committed that to his memory. "She says that panic attacks are just a miss manifestation of our chakra." Sakura giggled lightly, and Sasuke made a doubtful look at her over his shoulder. "She's into like, new aged healing, so she…" her voice trailed off, chuckle dying in her throat as she seemed to realize that she was about to start rambling. Sasuke almost told her he wouldn't mind if she did.
"You know," she started again. "You mentioned about your dad calling you a disappointment when we first met." He flinched at her words, his father's name still there, though admittedly relegated to the back of his brain with her interruption. "I hadn't been sure if it was a joke or not." She looked down at her beat-up sneakers. "It's really fucked up that you can't escape him, not even here."
Surprised, he looked up at her again. He frowned around the cigarette in his mouth, and something like uncertainty bloomed in his stomach. He took in her radiation green eyes, soft pink mouth, and now blue hair. Her face was open and supportive in a way he wasn't very familiar with, and he chewed on his filter.
"It is." he acquiesced.
His heart thrummed in his chest, and it struck him that this irritatingly bright girl was the only one he knew in his class. Perhaps the only one he knew in the entire college, most everyone he had graduated high school with had big plans for their lives that didn't involve a stint at the community college.
This stupid girl who, for some reason he didn't understand, seemed sympathetic to him, was maybe his only available ally in this place filled with strangers.
His eyes narrowed at the thought.
He would have to try, push himself to interact with another human being in a way he was intensely uncomfortable with. The only person he really did that for was Naruto, and really the only reason their friendship flourished was because Naruto was personable enough for the two of them and Sasuke could just be himself.
He wondered, then, if Sakura would be personable enough for the two of them, if she would be comfortable filling the silences with conversation, and then realized how selfish it was for him to be planning some form of friendship with her so that he wouldn't have to deal with strangers alone.
He was such a fucking child.
And he was nothing, if not selfish.
"Are…" his teeth ground and tried to ignore the way he noticed she perked up at the sound of his voice. "Are you taking other classes this semester?"
She smiled like the sun at him, and he wondered if that was something she did often, channel the sun, shine on strangers she didn't know, share a piece of herself so easily. A twist of something unfounded wriggled into his gut at the thought and he had to consciously ignore it to look at her.
"I'm actually taking calculus this semester, intro to history, and composition." She pulled the elastic out of her hair with deft fingers and pushed the deep blue strands around, massaging her scalp briefly. "What about you?" She held her cigarette between her lips and easily twisted her locks into a braid that ended at her midsection.
"Almost the same," he said, wondering briefly if it was fate that aligned them so well before feeling foolish and realizing they were both just new and almost all majors had to take the same introductory courses. "Maybe we'll have another class together."
"I hope so," her grin was still wide across her cheeks. "And the other professors better get their shit together, because Ms. Utatane was a fucking bitch."
His mouth twisted into a small smirk, and he nodded. "A terrible bitch indeed." He kicked at a rouge stone on the ground and grunted as he unfolded himself to stand beside her, back hurting from his awful posture.
Silence swallowed them again, but Sakura barely noticed. She was completely preoccupied with the curve of his lips, green eyes tracing their tilt, as they made something besides a frown. Her heart thrummed uncomfortably in her chest, and she wondered if she would have a heart attack should he ever bless her with an actual smile. She imagined, for a moment, how his handsome face might light up, black eyes full of stars glistening back at her, mouth angled into a smile that rivaled the elegance of the moon, whether his canines had a pronounced point, how his dark lashes might mix like ink over the pale paper of his face.
"– blue?"
His voice rumbled beside her, and she blushed, quickly hiding her distraction behind a cloud of smoke.
"Sorry," she mumbled, "what?"
His starless eyes glanced at her and she imagined he thought she was the stupidest girl in the entire world.
"What's up with the blue?" he repeated, a slender hand coming out hesitantly and picked up the end of her braid and giving it a small tug as if to reinforce what exact blue he was talking about.
Her eyes widened at him, at the fact that he had essentially touched her in some way, an act she knew, even with their short introduction together, was a rare feat. He seemed to read her mind or realize his own actions and quickly dropped the braid, hand tucking safely back into the pocket of his jeans. He tucked his head away from her, suddenly disinterested in the answer to the question he had asked.
Sakura swallowed, fingers itching to investigate her hair where he touched, see if somehow her atoms there were fundamentally different than they had been moments before. But she resisted and shrugged.
"It was time for a change."
He glanced back at her, a brow raised. "It was just purple?"
She nodded. "It was, and now it's blue."
"What about the pink?"
It was her turn to send him a questioning look. He dropped his wasted cigarette on the ground and snuffed it out with the toe of his shoe. He pointed at his own black brows.
"Why dye them pink?"
"Dye them pink?" she shook her head before a small gasp filled her lungs and she started to chuckle. "They're not dyed," she said, smiling at him and his doubtful expression. "They're naturally like that."
"You're fucking with me, no one has naturally pink hair."
She lifted a shoulder and mimicked him, dropping her butt and crushing it underfoot. "Well, mine is."
"I don't believe you."
"You don't have to believe me." She said softly, smile still nestled on her mouth. He looked almost petulant, mouth curving into a fetal frown and eyes narrowed.
"Is it pink everywhere?" he asked suddenly, frown gone, obviously curious. Sakura felt heat flood her face, brows shooting into her hairline as she spluttered, trying to figure out how to respond to that.
is he hitting on me? Her mind wondered frantically.
As she gaped at him his eyes widened in horror as he realized how the sentence could be interpreted.
"No, no, not like that holy shit. Fuck," his hands ruffled through his hair, pale cheeks bleeding pink in the sunlight. "I'm so sorry, not like that." His slender hands covered his face, and he looked at her from behind his fingers. "I meant your hair, like the hair on your head. Not the hair – not hair anywhere else. Fucking Christ I'm going to stop talking."
Sakura's heartrate slowed down and she felt herself start to giggle. She couldn't help it; he looked so cute hiding behind his digits and stumbling over his words. He seemed genuinely uncomfortable at the thought of his words being inuendo and she wasn't sure how to take that.
"Yes," she decided, trying to hide her giggles behind her hand. "It's pink everywhere. Everyone always assumes that the pink is fake, so I decided to go ahead and actually experiment with fake colors. What do you think?" She twirled quickly before tilting her head and smiling at him. "Do you think the blue or purple suits me more?"
His mouth ironed out into a straight line behind his fingers, and she wondered when he would stop hiding from her.
"I don't think my opinion on it matters," he said quietly.
She shrugged, "Humor me."
He frowned then and dropped his hands from his face, arms folding protectively across his chest as he glared towards the sun. "I think the purple goes with your pink more." He was quiet for a heartbeat and Sakura thought that was the end of it, but he surprised her when he opened his mouth again. "I don't like colors, but if I had to pick, blue is my favorite. So, I'm partial to it like this."
She tucked her hands behind her back and rolled on the balls of her feet. The smile on her face was nearly hurting her cheeks and she shook her head. She was about to open her mouth, to say what she wasn't quite sure, but Sasuke's phone rang at that moment, and he looked almost relieved at the interruption.
"Yo," he shifted his body away from her, listening to whoever was on the other end of the line. Sakura mimicked him, pivoting a little in the opposite direction in an attempt to give him some semblance of privacy. "No, yes, obviously Naruto, I said we would go, we'll go." There was something like a growl and the girl couldn't stop herself from peeking back at the boy.
It may have been a mistake, because his starless eyes staked her to the spot, more intense than she could have predicted, nearly unblinking as they stared at each other.
"I'm not ignoring you; I know, I know I texted you about it, I just, no, I ran into Sakura."
He was still watching her, and she bit at her bottom lip, wondering what her best friend's pseudo boyfriend was saying about her.
Sasuke sighed, finally dropping his eyes from her as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Yes, yes, okay, okay, fuck, give me a second." He huffed, rolling his eyes in an exaggerated manner before nodding at her. "Naruto wants to know if you want to come out with us for food tonight."
"Me?"
"Naruto, I am not saying it like that. No, you absolute loser. No." Sasuke shook his head, black hair swaying, and he looked at her exasperatedly.
"Naruto wants you to come along with us. We're going to Ichiraku."
Sakura bit at the inside of her cheek.
Naruto wants you to come along with us.
"Oh, no, I can't tonight. I, uh, I already have plans." She lied through a shallow smile. "Thank him for me though, I appreciate the invite." She started backing away from him then, earning a confused tilt of his head.
"Sakura –"
"Thanks for the cigarette, Sasuke," she gave a small wave and spun on her heel. "I'll see you around."
Her feet quickly carried her away from the boy, and she vaguely wondered if he would follow her like she followed him earlier that day. But she shook her head and instead quickly retraced her footsteps back to the parking lot where her little, shitty red car sat. The door creaked when she opened it, tossing her bag into the back seat before plopping down in the driver's seat.
She rubbed her eyes quickly, frowning at the smell of tobacco now intricately woven in her hair and skin. She coughed, gathering a mouthful of cigarette flavored mucus and spitting it unceremoniously out of her window. Digging around in the messy middle console, Sakura unearthed an old pack of gum and folded a stick into her mouth, glad to be rid of the stale smoke that sat heavily on the back of her tongue.
The drive back to her parents' home was always calming. Full of twisting back roads surrounded by gnarled old trees, leaves fluttering as she passed at a moderate speed. The little engine would grumble indignantly at her when she asked it to go over fifty, so she was relegated to lazy, winding drives where the wind poured sluggishly through the windows and pushed at the loose pieces of her hair.
The driveway was empty when she made it home, lights off in the house and she sighed unsurprised but still somehow disappointed. Her mother worked long hours at the hospital and her father was a farmer's vet, constantly out on call all hours of the day and night. She wondered if their neighbors, the Nara's, reindeer had given birth yet. Sighing, she went inside, settling her bag on the floor, and took the sixty seconds to reheat leftover soup from the fridge.
The first spoonful made her cringe. It was still mostly cold, a little too salty, and the beef bits her father had so meticulously cooked the week before had become tough after so many reheatings. She let her spoon clatter back into the bowl, uninterested and a little nauseous at the thought of eating it, green eyes glancing at the clock. She wondered if Sasuke and Naruto had made it to Ichirakus, if they had Hinata in tow, if Sasuke would share the insane shit their teacher said to him, and whether Naruto or Hinata could coax a smile out of the black-haired boy.
The thought made her frown, she didn't want to miss such a life changing event and wished, suddenly, that she hadn't ran away from him earlier in the day. She could text Hinata, see if she was with the two boys, but she didn't know if Hinata had been invited. Hell, she had barely been invited herself, and she had been physically existing in Sasuke's presence. She would just text Naruto but never thought to get his number and Sasuke… she didn't think Sasuke would be interested in sharing something so personal.
She dumped her bowl in the sink, trying to ignore the small flame of guilt that bubbled up in her chest at wasting food, even though the thought of eating it turned her stomach. She stalked through the house, determined to find something to do, anything really, then sit and think that she was potentially missing out on something important.
But mere minutes passed, and she found herself back in her car, driving back towards the lights of the town. Her headlights washed the normally bright green leaves into a greyish heap of undulating nothingness and the lack of concrete color made her uncomfortable. The drive back to town was just as short, soon the neon lights and bright advertisements calmed her anxiety, color back in blatant contrast of the streaky world of grey she had just traversed through. Ichiraku's was busy, but she saw neither hide nor tail of her friend or either boy when she entered the establishment.
Sakura bit her mouth, feeling awkward that she even showed up here, and when the young woman at the front counter asked her what she wanted, she went ahead and ordered two bowls of pork ramen to go. The take out was hot through the Styrofoam and she hoped that on her way to her next destination the broth wouldn't spill over the sides and stain the passenger's seat.
No one answered immediately when she knocked on the front door, take out balanced precariously against her hip. She knocked again, a little more forcefully, and suddenly an interior light flickered on. Relief flooded through her like the yellow of the porch light when it turned on. Honey brown eyes peeked out of the lacy cloth curtain covering the door window, and soon the knob turned, and a petite blonde woman smiled at her in confusion.
"Hey kid," the woman grinned, stepping out of the threshold so that Sakura could enter the small home. "I wasn't expecting you tonight."
Sakura beamed, setting the takeout down on the counter as the door clicked behind her before turning and being folded into a hug. "Grandma," she murmured into the woman's breast, comforted by the warmth the older woman's arms brought to her. "I brought us some ramen, I don't know if it's too late for dinner for you or anything, but I was bored and thought you might want some company."
"Of course, kiddo," Tsunade pulled back and ruffled Sakura's hair. "I'm always happy to have your company." Fingers twisted into Sakura's braid and Tsunade raised a pale brow. "What's up with the blue, kid?"
Sakura shrugged. "Just a little tired of the pink, I guess."
"Ah," the woman grabbed extra utensils and napkins and ushered Sakura into the next room. "I take it your parents weren't home again?"
"Am I not allowed to just miss you?" Sakura countered.
Tsunade smiled at her but swatted at her none the less. "Don't get sassy with me. Now," they settled in, opening the boxes and organizing the food around them. "Tell me, how are you doing Sakura?"
Sakura shrugged again, uncertain why her insides knotted uncomfortably, and when she looked up at her grandmother's warm eyes, she told her all about the moon boy and the way he looked when he didn't frown, their shared cigarettes, his friendship with the sun, and how her best friend was now a fixed planet in that sun's solar system. Sakura told her about his panic attack, the awkward way he spoke to her, and why it shouldn't fundamentally matter to her but that it did that Naruto was the one to invite her along for dinner.
Tsunade nodded, smiling here and there, and quietly reminisced to herself about a man she once knew with silver-white hair and forest green eyes who once made her feel something very similar when she was once a young girl like her granddaughter.
Author's Note
Thank you so much for reading! Please consider reviewing because I would absolutely love to hear from you!
Sorry for the delay in this chapter, I've been writing my dissertation and it's been killing me slowly :)