AUTHOR'S NOTE

Thank you so, so much for your comments on and support for this story. It's incredibly motivating.️I am particularly excited to see what you think of this next chapter… Possibly my favourite one so far. Enjoy!

Chapter 12

Sasuke woke to the gentle thrum of distant thunder, the pattering of rain against the hotel window, and the feeling that something was not right.

He carefully twisted in his bed while his eyes adjusted to the darkness. The hotel room was a mess – the outcome of an eye exam Sakura had performed on him earlier. During their test of Sasuke's Rinnegan, it had taken twelve tries of his Amenotejikara technique for Sakura to complete her assessment, during which they had swapped places with pillows, chairs, towels, bags, and lamps, leaving the room in a state of cluttered disarray.

Better than the alternative of practicing his gravitational pull, though, and risking bringing the entire building down.

Despite all the clutter, it didn't take long for Sasuke to pinpoint the source of his unease: Sakura's bed was empty.

She was around though, as indicated by that crisp, delicate chakra signature of hers, so Sasuke leaped up, pooled chakra to the soles of his feet, and flashed to her bed, landing on it in a crouch.

And found her on the floor.

Sasuke's stomach dropped at the sight of her curled against the bed with her head tucked between her knees and arms wrapped around them, looking impossibly small and helpless.

She glanced up at his appearance, her green eyes glazed with exhaustion, and he stared in silent question.

"I'm fine. Just… can't sleep," she mumbled sheepishly.

Sasuke frowned and got onto the ground beside her. "Do you need to stay longer?" he asked, noting her leg's restless tapping and her hands wringing around each other.

With a miniscule jerk of her head, she said, "No. There's nothing more for me here."

They'd spent the last three days and nights in the coastal town on the edge of Earth country. Sakura had used the time to mine the town's hospital for every scrap of information it had, and, together with the salvageable bits of her previous draft, patched together her new grant application.

It was evident she wasn't happy with it, though.

In a last-ditch effort, she'd sent several urgent letters to contacts at other Hidden Villages across the lands, borrowing Sasuke's giant hawk summon, Garuda, to expedite the travel time, casting a genjutsu over it to cover its tracks. Maybe, she'd wondered, another village had readily available data, similar to what the hospital board had asked for. But, with her clinic in Konoha being the first of its kind, the odds of other villages having what she needed was slim. And with mere days left to work on her application, the odds of any of them responding in time was even slimmer.

Sasuke hadn't seen much of Sakura in recent days, outside of occasional shared meals on the porch of their hotel room. He'd thought of her, though, while he waited around, exploring the town, sniffing out and taking care of some petty crime.

He'd wondered how she was feeling. If there was more he could help her with. And, selfishly, wondered how much longer it would take before their return to the woods, to their familiar camping routines, training and reading together, holding each other by campfire light…

One afternoon, in a moment of weakness, of missing her company, he'd tagged along at the hospital. But a mere five minutes of flipping through a book later, he landed on a page featuring none other than Orochimaru.

"Really? He's in a book on medical ethics?" he'd asked in disbelief.

With a dark chuckle, Sakura had said, gravely, "Orochimaru goes places many scholars won't – you know, by experimenting with things like cloning, shape-shifting, immortality... Things that ignore the boundaries of research ethics." She'd shuddered. "He generates opportunities to study things we normally couldn't, but at a huge cost. I mean, he's created way more diseases than he's cured."

Sasuke had grunted and closed the book, deciding he'd be better off biding his time someplace else.

But now, with mere hours until their departure and the familiar comforts of the forest finally in reach, he was prepared to stay in town as long as it took to get Sakura back on her feet.

"Maybe another village will get back to you," he tried as an onslaught of rain splattered across the floor-length window.

Sakura took a shuddering breath. "Maybe."

Sasuke turned to her, brows furrowed, overcome by a desperate urge to offer some relief, like she'd done countless times on his bad nights.

His sharp eyes tracked a strand of her hair stuck to her face, to fresh tear-tracks, and instinctively he reached for it, grazing his knuckles across the soft, smooth skin of her cheek as he brushed it aside, her hair light and cool as silk.

She turned towards him and then everything stilled, his hand frozen, his eyes falling from her cheek to her parted lips. Sparks chased from his fingers, down his arm, through his core, like Fire release in reverse, leaving a thrilling, aching sensation in their wakes.

Then, he remembered.

And yanked his hand back.

What the hell am I doing?

Shame bubbled through him, smothering the sparks.

How could I forget?

"W-what?" Sakura breathed, eyes wide.

He didn't dare look at her when he said, "Your hair. I'm sorry."

It had been mere weeks since that awful encounter in the waterfall village, since she'd confessed her sensitivity about her hair being touched. A sore spot, she'd called it.

And now, in his attempt to comfort her, he'd disregarded her confession and perhaps made her feel even worse.

I'm an idiot.

Why was it so hard to think straight around her?

He nearly jumped when she leaned towards him and nestled the side of her head in the crook of his neck and shoulder. "Thank you," she said quietly. "But it's different when it's you."

Sasuke's stomach lurched like she'd hurled him off a cliff.

Then, hurriedly, Sakura said something about how she was ready to sleep. And the spell broke.

She was right too, with how not long after they'd returned to their separate beds, her breathing evened out, the clutches of sleep finding her at last, leaving Sasuke staring at the ceiling, sleep evading him entirely.

Having a crush was the worst thing that could happen to a person, Sasuke decided.

As someone who prided in being focused, direct, and far from overindulging, he hated this irritating ache tugging at his attention, this dancing around, this feeling of never being satiated.

It was hard to say if his feelings for Sakura had grown stronger or his strength to resist them had faltered during their time on the road. But, ridiculously, after a lifetime largely curated around solitude, he was finding himself preferring her company to his own.

From her dazzling strength to the brilliant way her mind worked. Or how she grounded him on the bad nights and made his days lighter, worth getting up for. The way she had him looking forward to any chance to be around her, to touch her, even in medical exams, and the fact he looked forward to those called into question if Hell had frozen over.

It didn't help that Sakura had gone shopping again and returned with a new outfit that, Sasuke suspected, made her the living, breathing hot kunoichi fantasy most ninjas had dreamed up at some point in their lives – even more than before, somehow, and without her realizing it.

While she'd gone on about the discounts she'd bargained for and the durability of the fabric, Sasuke had focused on not missing his mouth as he took a swig from his water canteen.

Donning her signature red, Sakura's outfit now consisted of a short skirt with slits on the sides reaching all the way to her hips, overtop black shorts, the weapon holster strapped around her thigh, and black stockings that ended around her knees. Above a thick belt to secure her pack and medical supplies, she wore a loose and very cropped shirt that barely covered the underside of her black sports bra, with a fishnet material covering, but not concealing, her toned abdomen and the curves of her waist.

All the more reason to return to the woods, Sasuke reasoned, to keep her from the oglers' lines of fire.

And where, a protective, foolish part of him thought, sometimes, it almost felt like she was his.

That was precisely the problem though, and Sasuke knew it.

The not knowing if she was, or would ever be.

As much as Sakura was sweet and patient and teasing and kind with him, which would normally be enough for him to suspect she still had feelings for him, she was like that around most other people.

It was a demeanor that made her a phenomenal medic.

And excruciating to like.

A part of him hoped that if she'd been able to love him at his very worst, to love a version of himself that he himself despised, there was hope she could at least like him now, too.

But quite some time had passed since she'd last told him so. And a lot could happen in a year.

Nowadays, Sakura wasn't so straightforward with him. There was a guardedness about her, her cards and her feelings held closer.

And he knew why. He'd hurt her before, so why should she put anything on the line for him ever again?

After all, Sasuke himself had learned at a young age that attachment to others was a risky thing, making you vulnerable to manipulation, to all-consuming grief, or a lifetime of pain and darkness.

He was trying, now, not to let those risks define and consume him as they once had, but he would always feel the realness of them.

And this was precisely why, he regrettably realized, it was on him to reassure Sakura, somehow, that if she felt something, anything, or would even entertain the idea of it, one more time, he wouldn't hurt her for it again.

But how?

Sasuke was late to the game and thoroughly clueless when it came to any of this. Hell, Naruto was married and here Sasuke was, finally consciously realizing, for the first time, that he liked someone.

Not that he'd lived a life with much room for normalcy, normal pleasures, normal feelings, or anyone to tell him what to do if he had them.

While, in his view, his parents' relationship had been an admirable one, they were deeply private people, and Sasuke shuddered to imagine how a conversation with his father about girls would have gone.

Itachi'd had a girlfriend, but all Sasuke really remembered of her was how annoyed he'd been that she took up so much of his beloved brother's time. Not once had it crossed his mind to ask Itachi about the relationship or for advice. Sasuke supposed he'd been too young for that at the time, anyways.

His options for living people weren't much better.

Kakashi was off the table. As much as he would probably want to help, considering his perpetual singleness and the reading material he buried his nose in, Sasuke wasn't sure he knew a thing about real women.

And then there was Naruto, who, despite having a wife of his own, Sasuke was certain hadn't a clue how he'd done it. Besides, the teasing Sasuke would surely endure if he ever confided his predicament to Naruto would be insufferable.

Alas, he was on his own.

And not only that, but he might not have much time left.

Sakura would return home when their investigation ended, of that he was certain. Their travels were nothing but a short get-away from the life she was building there.

Sasuke ought to return to his redemption journey, anyways. He wasn't ready to face Konoha yet, with its haunting streets and unforgiving stares and shadows of what once was. It wasn't home for him.

Which meant, inevitably, he and Sakura would part ways. And, possibly, soon.

So, if he was ever to test the nature of their relationship, or what it could be, it was now or never.

As much as a part of him would rather face another god than figure this out.

First was the question of what to say.

As they resumed their trek through the cool shelter of the woods, the gnarled trees growing denser, taller, as they ventured inland, Sasuke turned various combinations of words over in his mind.

If Sakura noticed he was lost in thought, she didn't comment on it, perhaps because she too was preoccupied, her eyes frequently darting skyward, searching for signs of Sasuke's hawk, of a lifeline for her grant application.

He'd ruled out asking if she would stay out here with him after the investigation, not wanting to suggest she had to choose between him and her work. That was a surefire way to lose her, anyways, with how hesitant she'd been to leave her work and join his travels in the first place.

Another option he'd dismissed was asking outright if she still had feelings for him. It would be easier – to force her hand, to gauge where she stood before he shared his own. Because if she said no, he could invent some excuse for asking and pretend the conversation never happened.

But he saw the unfairness of it, of making her share her feelings first again.

Like a coward.

No, he would have to do it. Just spit it out. And accept whatever her response was, for better or for worse.

But there was also the question of when.

Sasuke was inclined to trust his instincts, not that he had any for these sorts of things. And to hope they kicked in quickly, before their investigation ended or he lost his nerve.

I'm fucked, he thought, as Sakura punched his arm affectionately after a couple hours of genjutsu training. They were about a half day out from Adakite, a trek they would complete the following day, which opened a brief window for training before settling in for the night.

The objective of the exercise was to catch each other unawares amidst weapons throwing practice, testing who could catch and hold the other in a genjutsu the longest. By the end, Sakura held the record of four seconds.

"That was fun," she chirped and wiping her face with a towel. "You sure you didn't let me win?"

"I didn't," Sasuke shot back, and he meant it. He might be distracted today, but Sakura was one of the most proficient genjutsu users without a Sharingan he'd ever faced. "You're good."

Her face reddened. "Thanks."

Tell her now, an inner voice nagged. But Sakura had skirted away and was already halfway back to camp.

No matter, Sasuke reasoned. Their camp was a better scene for this type of conversation anyways.

Probably.

Right?

Sakura had saved a pair of bento boxes from the last town, making for easy dinner preparations. "Which one do you want?" she asked and gesturing towards each colourful assortment of pickled vegetables, meat cutlets, and rice.

"Doesn't matter," he said while sitting against the trunk of an enormous tree with thick, swirling grooves in its bark. With a controlled exhale, Sasuke sent a stream of fire towards the kindling he'd assembled earlier. They didn't need a campfire for cooking, so it was more about familiarity than function – a warm, comforting glow against the backdrop of a brilliant sunset.

Sakura sat beside him. "Share both?" she offered.

"Okay."

She passed him a pair of chopsticks and balanced the first bento between them with her free hand.

The meal was a wonderful change of pace from their usual fare, delightfully marinated with spices and tangy sauces, and, best of all, not hunted or harvested by their own hands. They ate in silence, savouring the flavours and the relaxed ambiance, but as they neared the end of the meal, Sasuke's gaze lifted from the food to his companion.

Sasuke knew the food sharing wasn't really about indecisiveness or having the chance to sample different flavours. It was an accommodation – Sakura had probably noticed he struggled with meals like this, which, without a table or surface to prop the box on, were far more convenient to eat with two hands.

His chest tightened.

And then, it just slipped out.

"I don't want this to end," Sasuke blurted, his heart in his throat.

Sakura glanced at him, smiling. "Mmm. Me neither," she hummed and fishing around for one of the last bites.

Sasuke's eyebrow twitched. She thinks I'm talking about the meal.

But before Sasuke had the chance to come up with another way of saying what he was trying to say, Sakura cut in. "Oh! I have an idea," she announced and springing to her feet.

Disgruntled, Sasuke placed his chopsticks into an empty box and did the same, following Sakura as she raced up the giant tree, using chakra to brace each step on its grooved bark. He hadn't a clue where she was leading them.

When they were most of the way up the trunk, Sakura said, "This should do it," and hopped onto a thick branch, at least several feet wide. Sasuke remained by the trunk as she crept across it, carefully placing one foot before the other as she navigated the branch's bends and knots, like she was searching for something.

Finally, she paused, unclasped her cloak and set it down while she lowered onto the branch. When she'd taken her perch, feet dangling over the edge and facing the sunset, she turned back and gestured for him to join her.

He flashed to her position and stood beside her on the branch, testing it. It didn't so much as quiver at his added weight.

"I think Adakite's just beyond there," Sakura said, pointing to distant rocky hills springing up from the surrounding dense forests.

The view was nothing short of breath-taking. That much Sasuke could admit. The sunset painted the sky a radiant medley of oranges, pinks, and magentas, lined with smears of soft clouds, trailing towards the peaks of far-off snow-capped mountains. Charming stone walls and sparkling rivers wound through Adakite's hills.

He smirked and unclasped his cloak, suspecting that Sakura's idea had more to do with marvelling the world than getting a better vantage of their destination.

Sasuke glimpsed the other direction, behind Sakura, where darkness enveloped the sky, decorated by splashes of luminous stars and a crescent moon. He sat beside her, facing that direction instead. "My view's better," he said.

Sakura twisted to peer behind her, her torso angling towards him and her leg nudging his hip at the motion. A smile tugged at her lips as she said, "Fine. You win." Her gaze lifted higher. "The sky's so clear. I bet we could find a few constellations."

Sasuke nodded but didn't help her search, realizing he preferred the view of the starry sky reflected in Sakura's wide, admiring eyes. Or the way her delicate pink, tousled hair and the edge of her cropped shirt fluttered in the gentle breeze. Or the way her dazzling grin had the moon paling by comparison.

Sasuke's hand moved of its own accord, tapping Sakura's forehead with two fingers, a gesture that was becoming too easy, almost automatic, with her.

Sakura's eyes flew back to him, surprised, and she released a breathy laugh. "You know," she said softly, "I used to be self-conscious about my forehead."

Sasuke lifted an eyebrow. "Why?"

She shrugged and redirected her attention to a twig she was twirling between her fingers. "I dunno. There were a lot of things I didn't like about myself back then." She flicked away the twig and watched it plummet, down and down, disappearing into the encroaching darkness. "But now, it reminds me of how far I've come. And I'm proud of it – of me."

Sasuke's eyes flitted to her Yin seal as something light and fluttery swam through his chest, at how Sakura had brought another layer of profoundness to the gesture.

"It started with Itachi," he said. "The poking foreheads." Her eyes locked on him, captivated. "It's a thing he did when I was a kid."

It was Sakura's turn to ask, "Why?"

"It's a promise," Sasuke explained, his pulse racing. "To someone important."

Sakura lifted her fingers to trace the spot on her forehead that he had touched. "A promise," she echoed softly, her eyebrows drawing together as she tried to piece it all together.

Their eyes met and Sasuke nearly forgot where he was and his own name.

But one thing he did know, with complete certainty, was that he'd be a damn fool if he didn't say it now. Between the perfect segue and the stars and her attention on him, fate had handed him the very moment he'd been searching for.

He'd be an idiot and a coward if he wasted it.

But Sasuke couldn't remember what he wanted to say. Or how to use words entirely.

So instead, he reached for her shoulder, leaned in, and kissed her firmly and decisively.

His eyes fell closed as he savoured the new, delightful pressure, the warmth, the softness of her. Sakura's lips puckered gently against his, tentatively, curiously, and his stomach flipped like he'd fallen clear off the branch.

But there was a subtle flicker of reservation, of confusion in her.

So, he withdrew, breaking the kiss almost as abruptly as it had started.

Sakura blinked at him through wide eyes, her lips parted, face pale.

She was nothing short of stunned.

A cold, harrowing doubt gripped Sasuke, who was entirely unable to tell if Sakura was about to faint or cry or kiss him again or hurl.

Well… shit.

He should have stuck to the script, not that he'd really had one to begin with. What had gotten into him, kissing her like that, without an ounce of thought or planning or consideration for what would happen after it?

Hadn't Sakura mentioned having some kind of preference for how her first kiss was to happen, back in the waterfall village?

And maybe Sasuke had just screwed that all up.

He was breathing hard like he'd exerted effort, his heart in his throat, the troublesome ache in his chest not only unquenched but as painful as it had ever been.

Well, at least he was in good hands, with Sakura's medical expertise, he figured, if all along it wasn't a crush he was experiencing, but a heart attack.

Sakura swallowed and opened her mouth like she wanted to say something.

But then, suddenly, everything came crashing down.

Literally.

A vicious wind blasted towards them, so disorienting and powerful that without the chakra he quickly pooled to his legs, Sasuke would have been blown backwards.

The world around them quaked and trembled, but there wasn't time to process much else, because with a reverberating crack, the branch shattered beneath them.

Sasuke and Sakura reached for each other on instinct, hands clasped as they sprang from the branch, landing on a nearby tree, just as it too began to topple.

"Keep moving," Sasuke hissed, a descending branch catching his shoulder blade with a painful snap, before they leaped from tree to tree, dodging the onslaught of collapsing foliage, like the forest itself was sinking into the ground.

Finally, their feet made purchase on a tree that was upright, that was just outside the wind's line of fire. Sasuke landed on a branch in a low crouch, with Sakura standing at his side, gripping onto his sleeve.

A brief inspection indicted that the assault had been a controlled blast of sorts, that paved a path of destruction through the forest – originating from somewhere further ahead, towards Adakite, and aimed precisely where he and Sakura had been seated. The trees on the edge of the path were bent and mangled, but untouched compared to the utter obliteration inside of it, with nothing but tree stumps and debris left in the blast's wake.

In a trance, Sakura handed Sasuke his cloak, which she must have snatched up just in time. Her eyes were locked on something far away, towards the source of the blast, as she did up her own cloak's clasps.

"That chakra...," she whispered.

Sasuke stood, pulling his own cloak on. There was chakra – he felt it too, flashing in the distance.

He glanced to Sakura to find her face scrunched with concern.

"It's the same chakra that was there," she breathed, "on the night I was ambushed."