Chapter Text
I wasn’t awake. But I wasn’t really asleep either.
I was in that in-between – where anything felt possible and nothing felt wrong.
His body was warm, strong, right there.
His hands explored my skin, demanding but never rough.
His lips at my neck, my chest against his –
and every shiver, every breath, every sound in me said only one thing:
I want you.
My body burned. Not just from desire. From longing. From closeness.
From that urge to finally stop holding back what had been building up for so long.
I saw his eyes in the dream. Dark, honest, completely lost in me – and I wanted nothing more than to lose myself in that moment.
I jolted awake. Hard. Breathless.
My heart was racing, my body hot, almost feverish.
I lay on my side, his arm still wrapped around me.
Sasuke’s breathing was steady, relaxed – he was still asleep.
I stared at his face, and then it hit me:
It hadn’t been a dream that I’d fallen asleep at his side.
This was now.
Real.
And yet… it felt so strangely unreal.
An hour later we were standing in the kitchen.
Me in borrowed sweatpants, Sasuke with messy hair.
Mikoto had thankfully left early for work – a small blessing.
We both drank tea, not saying much, but the silence wasn’t uncomfortable.
Just… familiar.
Then we went to school together.
And of course – the stares. The whispers.
The half-loud “Sakura was at Sasuke’s?!” that Ino had already spread via WhatsApp before classes even started, like some professional gossip oracle.
Naruto just gave me a knowing grin, Sai raised his brows.
Hinata, polite as ever, but her curious glances didn’t escape me.
And me? I simply walked beside him.
Not as Sasuke’s girlfriend.
Not as today’s sensation.
But as me.
Sakura.
And he walked beside me. Not faster, not slower. Just with me.
We stepped onto the school grounds together.
It was still fairly quiet, most students crowding through the entrance or hanging out in the yard.
I was about to step aside, to keep some distance – when I felt it.
His hand.
His arm.
Sliding, almost provocatively, around my shoulders. I glanced up at him.
His look? Calm. Almost cheeky.
“Just making sure you don’t get lost in all this chaos,” he murmured, a hint of mockery in his tone.
I could’ve hit him. Or giggled.
I chose the latter – and let it happen.
Because something about this kind of attention – this sudden openness – I liked it.
I wasn’t the little girl waiting to be noticed anymore.
I was noticed.
By him.
And I enjoyed it.
Classes blurred by.
Maybe it was my overexcited mood, maybe it was the fleeting glances Sasuke and I exchanged now and then.
But when the big break came, I knew:
This is where it gets serious.
The moment I stepped into the yard, Ino had already grabbed me. Hinata followed quietly, but curious.
“Okay,” Ino began right away, “I want everything. And don’t you dare downplay it, I’ve been waiting years for this moment!”
I grinned.
“Oh, I was just at his place. We studied. Biology. Strictly factual.”
“Factual?” Hinata repeated with a playful blink. “Your face says more like… fiery.”
I shrugged.
“Maybe it was… a little more than studying.”
“Sakura Haruno!” Ino gasped. “YOU can’t just drop lines like that without details!”
I lowered my voice conspiratorially.
“Okay. We… cuddled. And yeah, it was pretty… close. And yes, there was also a kiss.”
Hinata covered her mouth with her hand.
Ino looked like she was about to hyperventilate.
“And?!” she hissed. “Good?! Intense?! Emotional?!”
I smiled.
“All of the above. And more.”
At lunch we sat together like always.
The table was crowded. Loud. Almost like family.
And then he came.
Sasuke.
Not like usual, casually following Naruto, but with a straight look.
Purposeful. And he sat down.
Not just anywhere. Not across from me. But right next to me.
His shoulder brushed mine. His nearness was warm.
His gaze only fleeting – yet in his brief, barely visible smile lay something that spoke louder than any word:
I want to be here. With you.
“Well, I really didn’t see that coming,” Ino grinned over her bento lid as Sasuke settled beside me.
Hinata giggled softly, while Sai asked with a crooked smile, “Seriously now? You invited her over to study?”
I stuffed a forkful of noodles into my mouth in protest.
“I can just leave if you’re all that fascinated by the subject.”
Naruto leaned across the table.
“Sasuke, man, you can’t just ignore half the school and then show up with Sakura like you’re a newlywed couple. That’s psychological warfare, dude!”
I almost spit out my juice. Sasuke just gave Naruto a dead look.
“At least I know how to use a toothbrush properly.”
“Hey?!” Naruto spluttered. “Just because I took yours last time, that was an accident!”
Everyone laughed. Even Sasuke – really laughed. Quietly. Just a smile.
But I saw it, and my heart gave a tiny leap.
He was doing this for me. But not only out of duty.
He wanted to belong.
And me?
I savored every second of it.
After school we gathered, like always, in front of the big gate.
Slowly the group drifted apart. Naruto shouted something over to Hinata, Ino laughed at some dumb joke from Sai.
Sasuke stepped up beside me.
“Want me to walk you home?”
I shook my head slightly.
“Thanks… but I want a little fresh air. Alone.”
He looked at me. Questioning. But he didn’t press.
“Okay.”
I was just about to turn when he suddenly stepped closer.
No warning. No glance at the others.
He placed a hand on my cheek – and kissed me.
Brief.
Gentle.
And yet so commanding that my breath caught.
When he pulled back, he looked at me with a small grin.
“See you tomorrow.”
Then he turned, got into his car, and drove off.
I stayed frozen in place. My heart was racing.
Behind me I heard Ino whisper a hushed “Ooooh my God!”, but I didn’t turn around.
I just walked. With a smile I couldn’t control.
I replayed the day in my head. Sasuke’s gaze. His kiss. The sudden familiarity with my friends. How everything was slowly shifting.
I was almost at my street when I saw him.
Red hair. Shoulder-length. Dressed in dark clothes. A lazy gait.
He walked toward me – and simply passed.
No look. No word.
But I knew immediately who it was.
Sasori.
My heart stopped. Then it raced.
My hands began to tremble. My knees went weak.
I didn’t look back. I ran. As fast as I could.
The keys clattered in my hand. I nearly stumbled up the stairs.
Door open. Door shut. Locked.
I pressed my back against the wood, slowly sliding down.
My breath came fast. Panic crept into every cell.
I was that scared girl again.
Confronted once more with a shadow I thought I had shaken off.
I buried my face in my hands.
And everything inside me screamed only one thing: Why now?
I sat there for a long time, on the floor, against the door.
Arms wrapped around my knees.
My breathing faster, but no longer panicked. Just… restless.
Like waves crashing against my insides.
Maybe it wasn’t him.
Maybe it was just a coincidence.
A man with red hair who didn’t even look at me.
But… it was the feeling. That icy stab in my stomach.
The way my body reacted instantly – instinctively, before my mind could even grasp it.
And that told me more than anything else: it was enough.
I couldn’t keep carrying this alone.
Not cover it with a smile.
Not dream it away in sleep.
I needed help.
I quietly went downstairs.
The apartment was still, only the ticking clock and the soft hum of the dishwasher.
My mother sat at the dining table, a notebook open before her, glasses on the bridge of her nose.
“Mama?” I said softly.
She looked up immediately.
“Sweetheart? Everything okay?”
I nodded. Then shook my head.
Then… nodded again.
“I… I think I saw Sasori.”
Her eyes widened. But she stayed calm.
“Where?”
“On the way home. Maybe it wasn’t him. I don’t know.
But it was enough. I don’t want to live like this anymore.”
I went to her, sat down beside her.
My voice trembled a little, but I went on:
“I can’t get out of this alone.
I want to get help.
A psychologist. Someone who can really help me.”
She didn’t say anything, but her hand immediately found mine.
Warm. Firm. Steady.
“Good,” she said.
“That’s very, very good.”
It didn’t take an hour. My mother called Mikoto, casual, calm – and by the same evening, I had an appointment.
“Friday. Afternoon,” she said as she put the phone down.
“A woman named Dr. Shiranui. Mikoto knows her through her connections. She’s very good. You’ll be in the best hands.”
I stayed quiet, but inside me there was suddenly space. Air. Not much, but enough for the next step.
I didn’t know what it would be like.
I only knew: I wasn’t alone anymore.
Friday
The last few days had been quiet. Almost too quiet.
Sasuke and I studied together every day after school.
Once, Naruto had joined us, which made the atmosphere both lighter – and louder.
At lunch we usually all sat together: Ino, Hinata, Sai. And Sasuke.
He didn’t talk much, but more than before.
And when he laughed – that quiet, almost shy laugh – I saw even Ino lose her composure for a second.
He wasn’t the untouchable boy people whispered about anymore.
He was becoming part of us.
And me?
I felt comfortable.
Not completely safe. But comfortable.
Only one thing gnawed at me.
Itachi.
I hadn’t seen him again. Not even fleetingly.
And a part of me wondered whether it was meant to stay that way…
or whether I had decided that myself without realizing.
In the afternoon I stood in front of a modern glass-fronted building.
The sun reflected on the windows, but I was cold.
My palms were sweaty. My heart beat fast.
I didn’t know what I should say.
What I was allowed to say.
How honest I could be – without losing myself in the process.
The buzzer read:
Dr. med. Shiranui – Specialist in Psychiatry & Psychotherapy.
I pressed it. A soft buzz. The door unlocked.
I climbed the stairs, clutching my bag like it was holding me up.
The waiting room was bright. Simple.
A soft armchair, a little plant, soothing colors.
I sat. Alone.
The minutes dragged like hours.
Then a door opened and a woman stepped out. Mid-thirties, gentle features, simple clothes, light brown hair tied in a loose braid. She smiled.
“Sakura Haruno?”
I stood, nodded, felt my stomach clench tight.
“Come in. There’s no right or wrong. Only a beginning.”
I followed her.
Dr. Shiranui’s office was warm.
Not just in temperature – something about it felt soft. Quiet.
Not oppressive. Almost… welcoming.
I sat in a comfortable chair, facing her.
She spoke calmly. Not artificially friendly, but genuine.
Understanding, without judgment.
“You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to, Sakura.
Today is only about you. About what you bring with you.
And about what you might want to let go of.”
I nodded, but it took time.
At first I spoke vaguely. About stress. About sleeping problems.
About things that had “thrown me off track.”
I left out the names. The images. The pain.
But she didn’t push, didn’t pry.
She let me move at my own pace.
And then – there was this moment.
Her voice caught me like a soft coat.
And I spoke.
Not everything.
But enough.
About him.
About there.
About me.
What it was like.
How it felt.
How it had changed me.
I didn’t cry. I didn’t shake.
I just spoke.
And she listened. Completely there. Completely calm.
By the end, it felt as if I had set down a backpack I had carried for so long, I no longer knew how heavy it truly was.
“You did well, Sakura,” she said quietly as we closed the session.
“You have nothing to be ashamed of. You are not broken. You are very… very strong.”
I nodded.
This time with a small, genuine smile.
I stepped into the hallway.
The door closed behind me.
And there – he stood.
Calm, almost composed – as if this place was nothing more than a simple everyday routine for him.
Itachi.
At the end of the corridor, near the little seating area.
His head tilted slightly, as if he hadn’t noticed me – but as I came closer, he lifted his gaze.
Our eyes met.
One single, silent moment.
And my heart stopped.
Is he… a patient here too?
I would have expected anything. Anything but him.
His posture was upright as always, almost untouchable.
And yet… something about him seemed softer.
“Itachi,” I whispered.
He only nodded.
No surprise in his eyes.
Maybe he had expected me.
Or hoped not to.
Before I could think, the words burst out of me:
“What are you doing here?”
The words came out sharper than I wanted.
Direct. Almost… insensitive.
His face barely twitched, a trace of amusement in his gaze.
“Straightforward, as always.”
I wanted to apologize, but something in his tone told me: Don’t. It was okay.
I looked at him more closely. His shoulders seemed narrower than usual. Maybe it was the light. Maybe something else.
How long had he been coming here? Why? Because of the illness? Because of Shisui? Because of everything?
A knot formed in my chest—part worry, part that old, familiar pity that always surfaced when I didn’t know how else to feel.
But he had never pitied me. Not when I was broken. Not when I cried. Not when I sat on his lap thinking my heart would never heal.
So I swallowed it down. Put it where it belonged. Far away. He didn’t say anything more. Just that look. Deep. Piercing. But not demanding.
And somehow I felt: he knew what I was thinking.
“You don’t know much about me,” he finally said. Quiet. More a statement than an invitation.
I didn’t know whether it was disappointment. Or a shield. Maybe both.
But there was something in his voice. An unspoken one day. No pressure, no promise. Just… possibility. Maybe I really would understand him better one day. If he let me. If he was still here then. How much time did he have left? The thought struck like lightning. I bit my lip. Didn’t want to say anything that sounded like pity. He deserved more than that. He was more than that.
I only nodded. And he turned away. Slowly. Wordlessly. And disappeared behind the door I had just come out of.
The moment the door closed after Itachi, I collapsed into the small armchair in the hallway. The air was calm. The light soft. And yet I sat there as if someone had physically pressed me back into the seat.
Maybe Mikoto should have warned me. Not that I blamed her. But… it was Itachi. And somehow I’d never imagined someone like him—so quiet, so controlled—would seek help himself. I looked at the opposite wall.
White. Empty.
Like my head. Or my heart. I had always thought I didn’t know much about him. And that was true. But… one thing I did know: he was a kendo pro. A master of swordsmanship. His movements—Mikoto had once said—were like water in the wind. Still, but powerful. And since I learned that, there had been a quiet wish in me to one day see it for myself. Not out of curiosity. Not out of fascination.
But simply, to see more of him than the quiet man I already knew.
The door opened. Quietly, as everything with him.
Itachi stepped out, paused when he saw me. Not startled—but surprised.
A short, appraising look. His posture as calm as always, but I recognized a hint of unease in his eyes. I stood up slowly. We were only a meter apart.
“I didn’t know you came here too,” I said softly.
Not as an accusation. More like an attempt to stop the silence between us from getting too loud. He didn’t answer right away. Just a slight nod. And I—couldn’t help myself. Maybe because I knew it was now or never.
“I heard… that you trained kendo a lot. That you were pretty good. Or… still are.”
His eyes narrowed slightly. Not mistrustful—more surprised.
“I’d really love to see that,” I said, a little too fast, a little too blunt. “If you train next time—may I watch?”
A moment passed. Quiet. He looked at me. Longer.
And then… a tiny edge of a smile touched his lips.
“Maybe,” he said.
Only that. No promise. But not a no either. And in that maybe was everything I needed. I walked down the street after we said goodbye. Or rather: after we looked at each other and almost said nothing. And yet… it had been more than I expected.
He hadn’t asked why I’d been there. He hadn’t judged me. He had just looked at me like he understood how hard it was to even sit through that appointment.
Maybe, he had said.
Maybe I would see him at practice one day. Maybe then I’d understand something words couldn’t explain. I didn’t know why that thought mattered so much to me, but it did. I got on the bus, rode through the dusky streets. The day had slowly folded into a calming gray. For a moment I felt as if I wasn’t quite between worlds anymore.
Not between fear and courage. Not between Sasuke and Itachi. Just me. One step further than yesterday.
When I got home, there was a note from my mother on the table:
“Went to your aunt’s. Dinner is in the oven. I’m proud of you. — Mom”
I read the last four words three times. And then again.
I ate, showered, slipped into my loose sweatpants. But sleep wasn’t coming. Not yet.
I sat on my bed, a notebook open.
I didn’t write thoughts. Not poems. Just words.
Itachi.
Sasuke.
Madara.
Sasori.
Me.
Trust.
Anger.
Hope.
I crossed them out. Then wrote them again in a different order.
My thoughts flickered back to his look. To that small, almost invisible smile. To his maybe. And I knew: That wasn’t an empty word. Not from him. It was a key. One I couldn’t force. But if I was patient, if I was honest—maybe… he’d open the door someday.