the first letter came on a dead summer’s morning, as day broke on her windowsill. a brown hawk tapped dutifully at the glass; she had half a mind to toss a lamp at anything that disturbed her after a four-hour sleep just two hours before her shift at the hospital started. days were long amid these times of reconstruction. sakura hardly saw her boys, as everyone was tied up in the ins and outs of daily bureaucracy. naruto found himself day in and day out, stamping through mind-numbing policy right along kakashi-sensei, or rather, the rokudaime. sai sporadically would join her for quiet dinners, cups of tea. peace was a headache, though one she was grateful for, every day.
the bird sat in quiet nobility, awaiting his recipient to pull her lazy joints into place and draw herself from the bed. frowning deeply, she rubbed her eyes, and pulled back the window to greet the hawk. “ohayo,” she grumbled, pulling a slip of paper from the bird’s carrier fold. before she could spare any possible thanks, two great wings flapped and swept the messenger off into the morning breeze. sakura clicked her tongue at the abrasive nature of it all, muttering things about a glorified pigeon under her breath.
a jolt of partial surprise sent a wave of currents through her stomach, she leaned against the frame of her window. it wasn’t unheard of for sasuke to contact his teammates in the year he had been gone. regular reports to kakashi were expected, and the occasional notification of general health to naruto or herself was a courtesy. hell, he had even sent her rare teacakes from waterfall for her birthday. still, something about her name scrawled out in his neat pen made her palms sweat. she tore at the wax seal, a little too hastily, and tried not to devour its contents too quickly.
sakura,
i received the medicinal pack you sent at the start of the season. It was addressed from the three of you, though I figured I’d thank the source.
so, thank you.
sasuke
a heavy sigh fell from her lips at the close of the letter. she had forgotten about the package. the areas up north had been suffering large bouts of typhoid fever this season. worrying was her natural state, as her father always said. but boys as strong as sasuke were not impervious to illness; it was a preventative measure more than anything else. albeit, any form of contact with him these days, even if one-sided, comforted the small part within her that imagined his fingers against her forehead some nights; a gesture she told herself time and time again was platonic affection.
going about her morning ritual, she washed the anxiety from her brow, wiped the steam from the mirror, and took a look at herself. it wasn’t often they contacted himself outside the bounds of village matter, and even less often they heard back from him outside of necessity. sakura stared deep into her own expression, the slight glow of her eyes, the trace of an absent smile that she told herself wasn’t giddiness.
her letter would reach him at his next expected stop in Yuki. She kept it direct and succinct, as she figured he might appreciate.
dear sasuke,
i’m glad the pack reached you in time. by the time this gets to you, you’ll be in snow country. lucky duck. the snow was always my favorite. stay warm. protect your fingers and toes, please. frostbite is truly pesky. i’m sure you remember the time naruto almost lost a toe. what a mess.
wishing you warmth,
sakura
it was about two weeks before sakura came to the conclusion that he wouldn’t respond. the disappointment was absent, just enough to give a small sigh each morning she opened the window, half wishing that damned hawk was plucking her out of her sleep. she was glad she hadn’t caved and mentioned it to naruto, or even ino for that matter. her self-pity party would be a small, private affair, candlelit, and accompanied by small doses of chocolate after she got off her shift. icha icha paradise is on at eight tonight, she noted absently one evening, kicking her shoes off by the door.
the incessant pecking started up at 8:17, just as the icha icha male lead and some nameless woman from a party climbed into bed. sakura threw the blanket off and clumsily threw the window open. the hawk looked up at her, blinking patiently, probably ready to set off on his next task. sakura sighed at the sight of the bird, reaching for his carrier fold, “we cannot keep meeting like this.” like clockwork, the creature gusted off into the night just as she retrieved the letter. settling back on the sofa, icha icha murmuring softly on the television, sakura traced her hands over her name in neat pen, a small smile tugging at her cheeks.
sakura,
medical facilities are far with few in between here, the pack has been useful. as for the frostbite, i have five fewer fingers to worry about than he did. i’ll manage.
sasuke
their correspondence was light and sporadic, like rains shifting up and down the plains. they talked about the weather, about the people and things he saw. sakura did her best to keep him up to date with things she decided he should know about: the budding-something between naruto and hinata, the number of babies she delivered that week (only if it was that impressive), or how many times she had to snatch icha icha out from behind a document kakashi swore he was reading. on his birthday, she sent him an oxblood scarf she had knit herself (and secretly wondered if he smelled it when he opened the box just as she would have done if roles were reversed). letters flew in and out, far into the year. it was late that autumn when the first invitation came.
sakura,
my time in snow country is coming to a close for now. the locals say we’re expecting the first real snow of the season next week. come see it.
SASUSAKU MONTH: DAY SEVENTEEN War Torn
“I want her to be like you. I want her to be strong, kind, wise, and brave just like you. I want her to be known as your daughter, before being known as as Uchiha.”
I was thinking, should I make it dramatic? Nah. Hahaha.
summary: innumerable heart of the wind / fluttering over our silence of love. -pablo neruda
note: i missed writing for you all. ssmonth is like christmas. ❀
she’s different now, and he can’t help noticing. were he less prudent, he might have asked the dobe just what it was that made her scurry off to work each time he came around, or why it was she could look him in his stupid face but never at sasuke. he wonders if he wears it on his face each time, the seed of disappointment that digs deeper and deeper into his gut. “she needs time,” kakashi spoke to him one day, his nose deep in the pages of his orange paperback, “give her that, she’ll come around.” this was a level of transparency sasuke would never get used to.
he isn’t certain just when he started keeping mental tabs of her weekly schedule, only that he made it a point to be at hokage tower in the early evenings on tuesdays and on thursday mornings, or near the hospital just about every other day. false coincidence was the name of the game. their encounters were as brief as a short walk down the street, or up the stairs; the leisure of conversation would occasionally bring a soft smile to her face. but something always turned sour, something silent and nagging within her eyes. gaze averted, she would excuse herself to her tasks. peace times were packed with daily tedious work; sasuke never could have imagined hating the sight of her walking away as much as he did now. he definitely never imagined going as far as asking naruto.
“does she hate me,” he spoke one day, a tone low enough that it hardly escaped the low hum of life on the street outside of ichiraku.
naruto set his bowl down mid-sip, and sasuke felt his gut seize up. it couldn’t be a great sign when the human ramen vacuum stopped eating.
the blonde scratched his head, pensively, “it’s definitely not that…” blue eyes grew more reluctant, his foot tapped nervously, “she says she’s just…not sure.”
not sure? sasuke wanted to say, about what? about me? about my character? about loving someone who has quite literally just hurt her over and over and-? sasuke composed himself, “she said that?”
naruto nodded, “i guess she just,” he shrugged, “doesn’t know what you want.” he was silent at this, feeling the tension collect in his shoulders, along with the ever-increasing sinking feeling he experienced when he tried to begin to fathom what he might say to her.
“hn,” he finally responded, pushing his empty teacup away.
blue eyes turned to meet the side of sasuke’s impenetrable expression. “what exactly do you want, sasuke?”
sasuke put his half of the tab down and exited the stand.
it’s friday, roughly half an hour after her shift at the hospital has ended. he figures just a half hour off work, she’d be taking her time, ambling her way home at a calm pace. it was a nice night. there were three discernible routes from the hospital to her house. the road most traveled crossed through the akimichi bridge. she loves that stupid bridge, he notes, crossing through the various channels of the village, wondering all the while if he has his timing right. the red of the bridge comes into view as he crosses a corner, eyes searching wildly for any trace of pink in the falling night. there, he catches sight of her at just the other end of the bridge, crossing leg after leg down the lane, face upturned to the stars. he wants to stay there, in the shadows, witnessing the small joy of her walking home on a clear spring evening.
just her, and a stupid bridge, and the stars.
he can’t help himself as his feet start carrying him across the bridge, or his voice as it rises up to meet her, “sakura.”
and he can’t help the way his mouth goes dry and every salient thought shoots directly out of his mind as she looks at him with those damned eyes. he wants to tell her just how suffocating it is when she looks at him like that.
she doesn’t open her mouth to speak, but she looks at him, and for a moment, he wonders just how much she knows.
“i don’t know why it is things aren’t normal for us,” his voice is even, if only a little too low, “and i don’t know why it seems like neither of us can say something-” he stops. her eyes are steady on his own, he finally notices, unblinking, sincere. suffocating.
“you’re looking at me,” he says.
“you’re looking at me,” she somewhat shrugs, her voice low.
“you never look at me.” anymore. he doesn’t mean to be confrontational, but his eyes do not waver.
green eyes grow deeper in their dolefulness, “i don’t always know that i can.”
this, he tries to breathe, i didn’t account for this. suddenly, every memory comes rushing into him, a life of regrets he can’t swallow and words, actions, he can’t right. pink hair flying into the open air, lost; emerald eyes searching for goodness where it does not live. please, sasuke-kun. he feels for a moment he might just blow away, ashes into the wind, just scattered. her eyes are so clear even in the dark; he knows he’s been here before. all those years ago, looking at her just as he is now—it’s been so long, and she’s finally here.
“sakura,” he speaks her name, hoping she can feel for a moment just how good it is to say it. she looks like she’s preparing, her eyes are dry, bracing for the force.
“i’m going to kiss you,” he says, taking steps toward her, “if you don’t want that, that’s okay. but i’m going to, if you let me.”
her face is composed and beautiful in the moonlight, a graceful yet indiscernible pain growing in her expression as he draws closer. prudently, he reaches his hand up to move the hair from her face. his breath hitches in his throat as she closes her eyes, allowing him to sweep his thumb down the length of her jaw. something stirs in her expression, softening slowly.
he places a kiss on her lips, soft and grateful.
holding her face in his hand as he pulls back, he speaks, “i can’t stay here.”
she opens her eyes at his words, the pain in her face deepens in the slightest, but she does not look away.
“but please let me know i can keep coming back.” to you.
thought consumes her expression as she looks at him now, as she reaches up to touch him. he relaxes beneath the graze of her lithe fingers on his face, wondering absently if he would ever wish to feel this again should she reject him. nothing feels like this, he knows. no one is like her.
“as long as you keep coming back,” she speaks in a voice even and assuring, hands clearing the hair from his eye-line. her gaze is strong, holding his own, keeping him on the ground.
sasuke wishes to stay here forever, breathing her in, frozen in this night.
Notes: After the break I took with prompt 23, this is the continuation from prompt 12, from the ongoing story I’m writing. Sorry for the delay and thank you for your patience. And don’t worry about the “The End“, it is not. When the time comes, I’ll tell you beforehand ^^
As always, if you find something strange, please, tell me ^^ I hope you enjoy it 🙂
Words: 3299
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AFTERMATH: ON LOVE
Slowly, feeling warm and strangely safe, Sakura opened her eyes to the morning sun that entered through the large window opposite her, half covered by one purple curtain. She frowned just a little at the unfamiliar sight. Turning slightly her head, she stared at the ceiling for a few moments before her clouded brain started to relate what she was experiencing with the day before.
SasuSaku Month 