It's been quite some time since the date with Jenji, and not once has he reached out. No texts, no calls, nothing. At first, Sakura told herself it was probably nothing, that maybe he was just busy. But as the days passed, the silence gnawed at her.
Did he not like me after all? Is he scared?
She'd tried to ignore it, but it kept creeping up. Ino noticed, always the perceptive one, but Sakura just shrugged it off. After all, why wouldn't he be texting if things had gone well? They'd laughed, they'd shared a nice evening. It should've felt right, but it didn't.
Sasuke's face flashed in her mind, and she quickly pushed it away. She didn't want to think about him. Sasuke… She still didn't understand him. He acted like he didn't care, like he didn't want anything to do with her, yet… something was off.
Why did he interfere that night?
Sakura sighed, frustrated with herself. She didn't know why she was still thinking about Sasuke, but Jenji's silence bothered her more. Maybe that's all she was ever going to be—someone they used and tossed aside when they were done.
Maybe I'm not meant to find someone who truly wants me for me.
The mall buzzed with life: couples window-shopped, kids dragged their parents toward toy stores, and groups of friends laughed loudly as they passed by. Sakura and Ino strolled through the bustling space, bags from earlier purchases dangling from Ino's hands, while Sakura held nothing but a quiet air of disinterest.
God, I hate this place, Sakura thought.
"You're impossible, you know that?" Ino huffed, shifting the bags on her arm. "We've been here for two hours, and you've boughtnothing."
"I'm here for moral support," Sakura quipped, smirking as she sipped her coffee.
"Moral support, my ass," Ino shot back, rolling her eyes. "I know you need a new jacket, and you're not leaving here until you buy one."
Sakura sighed, letting Ino drag her into yet another store. Racks of clothes surrounded them, the scent of new fabric mingling with the faint traces of perfume. Ino sifted through hangers with precision, her eyes gleaming as she pulled out a sleek black leather jacket.
"This," Ino declared, holding it up. "It screams 'I'm hot, but I'll also kick your ass.' It matches perfectly your whole bitchy personality"
Sakura chuckled, shaking her head. "I already have something like that."
"No, you don't," Ino said firmly. "Try it on."
Reluctantly, Sakura slipped it on. The jacket fit perfectly, the smooth leather hugging her shoulders just right. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and frowned—not because it didn't look good, but because it did, and she didn't want to give Ino the satisfaction.
"Alright, fine," Sakura muttered, unzipping it. "You win."
Ino beamed triumphantly. "I always do."
They wandered through a few more stores, Ino chatting about the latest campus gossip about Karin and Sasuke while Sakura listened, occasionally offering a sarcastic comment. They ended up in a small accessory shop where Ino, as expected, gravitated toward the jewelry.
"What about this?" Ino held up a delicate silver bracelet with a cherry blossom charm, waving it in front of Sakura's face.
Sakura hesitated, her fingers brushing over the charm. "It's cute, matches with what I have on," she admitted softly, causing Ino's gaze to instinctively flick to Sakura's covered arm.
Ino's lips quirked, but she didn't push. "Then it's yours," she declared, grabbing another for herself and marching to the counter before Sakura could protest.
"You don't have to buy something for me every time we shop together, you know that, right?" Sakura scoffed, pinching the bridge of her nose and pulling out her phone.
Just as Ino was about to pay, Sakura leaned in, placing her phone on the card reader with a casual tap. The transaction went through before Ino could even blink.
"Haruno," Ino huffed, turning to glare at her friend. "Why did you pay for that?"
"My treat," Sakura said simply, grabbing the shopping bag with a nonchalant air and handing Ino hers. She muttered a quick thank you to the cashier before turning on her heel and striding toward the exit.
Ino hurried to catch up, still holding her bag. "You're impossible, you know that?"
Sakura smirked faintly, her expression softening as she glanced at the bracelet in Ino's hand. "I figured you'd want us to match anyway. So why not?"
Ino rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress the warm smile spreading across her face. She slipped the bracelet onto her wrist, admiring the way it caught the light. "You're lucky I love you, forehead."
"Yeah, yeah," Sakura replied, her tone teasing but her eyes showing a flicker of warmth. "Just don't expect me to make a habit of it."
As they walked through the mall, the sunlight streaming in through the glass ceiling highlighted Sakura's features. She reached up to tuck a strand of pink hair behind her ear, revealing a small tattoo just behind it—a simple black crescent moon cradling a cluster of tiny cherry blossoms.
Ino froze mid-step, her sharp eyes narrowing in on the delicate design. "Wait, wait, wait," she said, grabbing Sakura's wrist and pulling her to a stop. "When did you getthat?"
Ino had always been observant, especially when it came to Sakura. Over the years, she'd pieced together the quiet story her best friend told through ink—each design carefully placed, each one carrying a weight that Sakura rarely shared outright. She basically knew that everytime her friend goes through a stressful situation or has a bad period, she gets a new tattoo.
I don't remember seeing this one before, Ino thought.Is it because of what happened that night?
Sakura gave a small hum of acknowledgment. "Got it a couple of days ago. No big deal."
But for Ino, every tattoo of Sakura's told a story.
Her mind drifted to the others. There was the small, delicate tattoo on Sakura's ankle—a cluster of stars, faint and almost hidden. She'd gotten that one after they graduated high school, during a rare trip to the beach. It had been a stressful year, but that vacation marked a turning point for Sakura.
That's when we tried counting the stars and failed remarkably.
Then there was the tiny "karma" inked on her left arm, the thunderbolt replacing the first "A." Ino remembered when that appeared—right after Sakura had faced lots of bullying because of her feelings for a young boy named Sasuke. That seems to still bother her in the present too.
She changed radically from that moment on, like she wouldn't leave spaces for "buts" or explanations. That's when my friend finally became the bold one.
And the deep Japanese saying circling her left thigh? Ino didn't understand the exact meaning, but she knew it came after Sakura got enrolled in the medical college. The tattoo seemed like a mantra of strength or mainly something to keep her grounded and maybe focused.
Of course, there was the most visible one—thecherry blossoms entwined with sharp thornsthat adorned Sakura's right arm. That was the one Sakura had been most excited to get, the one she'd debated over for weeks because she couldn't quite know how to place it. Ino knew it covered physical scars from the night Sakura's mother died, a night they rarely talked about but which left its permanent mark on her skin that needed to be covered.
"Do you ever stop and look at your collection?" Ino teased, bumping her shoulder against Sakura's.
Sakura smirked faintly. "You make it sound so dramatic."
Ino raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. "Dramatic? I'm just telling the truth. You've got a whole collection of hidden treasures, and I can betanyonewould think they're amazing. It's like you're an art gallery. I am surprised you get to hide them so damn good."
Sakura chuckled softly, shaking her head. "Yeah, sure. Because nothing says romance like analyzing someone's tattoos."
Ino didn't push further, but she couldn't help noticing how focused Sakura was with her tattoos. Every design seemed carefully thought out, and each placement was intentional, always somewhere easy to conceal — behind her ear, circling her thigh, or peeking subtly from her arm. It was like a quiet rebellion, her way of owning her scars and story without making it everyone's business.
"You know," Ino smirked playfully, leaning closer to her, "when you will finally get yourself a good boyfriend and he tears those clothes off you—"
Sakura groaned, rolling her eyes, already bracing herself for whatever nonsense Ino was about to say.
"—he'll lose his damn mind seeing those sexy-ass tattoos," Ino finished with a wink, her grin mischievous.
Sakura shook her head but couldn't stop a small laugh from escaping. "You're impossible."
"Thank you. I take pride in it," Ino said, laughing alongside her.
The house was quieter than usual. Sasuke's footsteps echoed through the empty halls as he moved toward the kitchen. His mother, Mikoto, was sitting at the dining table, a cup of tea in front of her, her fingers absently tracing the rim of the porcelain. Her soft gaze followed him as he entered, her brow furrowing slightly as she noticed the tension in his shoulders.
Sasuke tried to avoid her eyes, opting instead to grab a glass of water from the fridge. He was good at keeping up appearances, at making sure no one saw what was really going on underneath the surface. But his mother knew him better than anyone. She always had.
"Sasuke," Mikoto's voice was soft, careful. "How have you been lately?"
He froze, the glass of water half-raised to his lips. There was a flicker of something in her voice, a hint of concern, that he hadn't expected. Sasuke set the glass down, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, not looking at her.
"Fine," he muttered, his voice rough. He didn't want to talk. He didn't want to get into it. He didn't want to admit that something—someone—had been gnawing at the edges of his thoughts for the past week. That it wasn't just the usual lingering frustration that followed him around, but something deeper. Something... unsettling.
Mikoto's gaze didn't waver. "You sure about that? You've been quieter than usual."
Sasuke finally turned to face her, his back stiff. He could feel the weight of her eyes on him, like she could see right through the walls he'd carefully built. It irritated him, but there was no way to dismiss her, not without risking an argument. Not with her.
"I'm fine, Mom," he repeated, his voice colder this time.
She didn't buy it, not for a second. Mikoto set her cup down with a soft clink and pushed back from the table, standing up. Her eyes were soft, but there was an edge to her that spoke of years of knowing her son better than he wanted her to.
"Sasuke, you're not fine." Her words were gentle but firm. "I've seen how you've been acting. You're distant, like you're carrying something heavy, but you won't talk about it. Is this about a girl?"
He clenched his jaw, looking out the window to avoid her piercing gaze. He didn't know what to say. He didn't want to admit anything, but she had a way of getting him to do just that. "I don't know what you're talking about," he muttered, though it sounded more like a lie than a denial.
Mikoto sighed, her footsteps quiet as she approached him. She reached up and placed a hand on his shoulder, her touch gentle, but warm—comforting in a way he hadn't realized he needed.
"You've never been one to care much about others, Sasuke," she said softly. "But something's changed. I can tell." Her voice became more probing, more concerned. "Is it... is it Sakura, that friend of yours that's a doctor? I've seen the way you look at her when you think no one's watching."
Sasuke froze, the mention of Sakura making his chest tighten in a way that he couldn't quite explain. His mind flashed back to the confrontation with Jenji, the way he'd stepped in to protect her—even though he didn't know why. And the way she'd looked at him afterward, like she couldn't quite place what he had done.
But even then, it wasn't enough. He hadn't done it for her, had he? He wasn't the type of person who did things for others. Not like that.
But his mother wasn't done. She stepped closer, her hand still resting on his shoulder. "Sasuke, you can lie to everyone else, but you can't lie to yourself. It's okay to care. It's okay to want someone in your life. Just don't let that fear of being hurt or vulnerable stop you from having something real."
Sasuke felt a knot tighten in his throat. His mother's words stung in a way he wasn't prepared for. He wasn't used to her being this open, this direct. He wasn't used to anyone getting so close to understanding him.
"You have to decide what you want, Sasuke. You can't keep running from it. Not forever."