Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Naruto’s inauguration as Hokage felt anticlimactic to Sakura. After years of shadowing Kakashi, Naruto had become a fixture in the Hokage tower, and the allure of the job had faded into something more realistic.

In the months before the ceremony, once the transition was certain, clans like the Nara and Aburame began angling for influence. Naruto would have been oblivious to this political dance if he hadn't spent so much time with a realist like Kakashi. While friendship is everything to Naruto, he has learned to exercise sound judgment even where Sasuke is involved, a feat that makes Sakura proud.

The new administration has Ino in charge of intelligence, Shikamaru as a key strategist, and Sai formally heading the Anbu. Sasuke and Sakura act as Naruto’s main advisers. Their joint veto can block any of the Hokage’s decisions, which are then subject to the vote of a wider council. Naruto was unhappy about this, though he never said so. Kakashi perceived it and bore the burden of disappointing his student. Eventually, Naruto understood the measure was not about him, but about the future.

A perk of the arrangement is seeing Sasuke more often. The change began with Kakashi’s wedding and intensified when the Hatake-Uchiha couple adopted a baby girl. It was a revelation to see Sasuke melt over his niece, Tomoko, and drawn back to the village to spend time with his growing family.

That’s when things became complicated for Sakura. She had thought herself cured of her childish infatuation. For years it was easy while Sasuke was physically absent and emotionally detached. His rare displays of affection had been reserved for Itachi, tinged with the complexities of their past.

Now, however, Sasuke spends his time in the village. He has a house decorated with mementos from his travels and a black cat named Tomato. He hangs out. It’s not uncommon to see him at the Izakaya with Kakashi or at the market with his brother. He laughs and smiles and carries little Tomoko on his shoulders. It’s mind-boggling.

Sakura can’t imagine what it will be like when they start working together in earnest.

“It’s the bloody hormones,” she tells Ino over drinks. “I see him with the baby and boom, it’s daddy-Sasuke fantasies on steroids. Ugh.”

“I feel you, girl.”

Case in point, Ino’s bump has started to show. What she has with Sai is nice. Maybe she has a type, or maybe she never got over their collective loss of Sasuke, but at least she found someone to start a life with. Sakura, meanwhile, is back to fantasizing about an impossible man, and her adult mind finds it deeply unsettling.

“I’d embrace it if I were you,” Ino says. “He’s always been easy on the eyes, and if he’s a nicer person now, all the better.”

“What if the opportunity presents itself?” Sakura wonders aloud.

“Of sleeping with him?” Ino asks too loudly, before lowering her voice. “That’s a personal choice, but I mean, why not? I would try to compartmentalize a bit, though.”

“You mean…?”

“I mean, sleep with him, but don’t fantasize about marriage and babies at the same time. And please use contraception,” Ino says, angling her eyes downward. “Don’t forget that, okay?”

Sakura thinks about that conversation long after she leaves the bar, walking down the street as her shoes grow clammy in the summer mist. She stops dead in her tracks.

Sasuke, sex, marriage, babies.

She is supposed to keep them in separate boxes.

“That thunder train has already left the station,” she realizes with horror.

She kicks off the stupid shoes and walks the rest of the way home barefoot.

“What does Ino know, anyway?”

Chapter Text

“Sakura-chan,” Naruto calls, giving her the floor.
“We’ve received complaints from civilian passengers on the thunder train between Konoha and Suna. They’re being charged more than shinobi for the same tickets. The issue seems to be limited to the Suna-Konoha segment. Discriminating against civilians is against our laws, so we need to investigate this and bring it up with Suna.”

“Sasuke?”

“I agree.”

They’re gathered in the Hokage’s office. Ever since the new administration came in, a round table was added, and the three of them now hold daily meetings to resolve matters quickly. It has worked so far, though they do hit some slight bumps at times.

Naruto leans back in his chair, deep in thought.
“I don’t know. I can’t see Gaara doing something like this…”

“Gaara doesn’t man the ticket booth,” Sasuke quips.

“We should investigate it nevertheless,” Sakura says. “The joint venture agreement is in the archives. I can assign someone to sift through it for any clauses—”

“What? I’m not gonna bother Gaara with legalese. We’re friends!”

Sakura sighs. Naruto has matured exponentially over the years, but in some things, especially when personal relationships are involved, he’s still a bit of a blockhead.

Sasuke meets Sakura’s gaze, and a muted understanding passes between them. Naruto catches on and groans.

“You two are going to gang up on me… again.”

“Don’t be a baby,” Sasuke says flatly.

“How about this,” Sakura offers. “We investigate and pass you the results. You decide how to handle things with Gaara.”

Naruto finally agrees, and after a few more folders, they’re done for the day.

“I’m meeting Hinata for ramen. Do you guys wanna come?”

Naruto and Hinata got married shortly before the end of Kakashi’s tenure. They haven’t announced it yet, but Sakura knows Hinata is 10 weeks along. She’s been struggling with morning sickness, and Sakura has advised her to stick to dry, plain food and ginger tea.

“Ramen? Are you sure she’s okay with that?”

Naruto’s blue eyes go impossibly wide and his face contorts comically.
“Shit. We might have to change venues. Thanks, Sakura-chan.”

“I’ll check on the thunder train documents before I head home. Say hi to Hinata.”

Sakura expects Sasuke to bolt without explanation, but surprisingly—

“I’ll help Sakura.”

She raises her eyebrows, and Naruto grins, but Sasuke ignores them both and starts walking back into the tower.

The search in the archives is fruitful. They find the joint venture contract and identify the relevant clauses and annexes, then make digital copies to send to Naruto.

When they’re done, it’s two hours later, and they find themselves standing in the exact same spot outside the tower. She’s about to say her good nights when he surprises her again.

“If you’re not busy, we could have supper together.”

It’s probably the first time Sasuke has asked her out.

Her mental chatter screeches to a halt. No. This is not an “ask her out out” situation. It’s just supper. Because they’re colleagues.
Play it cool, Sakura.

“Sure. Do you have anything in mind?”

“I like the yakitori at the stalls by the river,” he says.

Those stalls have been there since before the war and are popular with older shinobi. Kakashi probably brought him there.

“That sounds fine,” she agrees.

They start walking side by side. Unlike Itachi, Sasuke never took to wearing jounin attire, even when on duty. Over the years, he’s gone through different styles. When he was still traveling, his friends used to bet on what look he’d return with next: boho poncho, gothic cape, ascetic monk…

Nowadays, his appearance is what Sakura would describe as normal—some variation of dark pants and a comfortable shirt. Gone are the extravagant pieces, as well as the large Uchiha symbols on his clothes. The only mark of his clan she can spot now is a small, fan-shaped glass pendant attached to a bracelet around his wrist. His hair is longer, grazing his shoulders, and currently tied up in a half bun. His rinnegan is half-hidden behind his bangs, and a small black stud decorates his left ear.

“What was that all about earlier?” he asks, breaking the silence.

“What do you mean?”

“The ramen…”

“Oh!” Sakura’s cheeks warm slightly. “It was nothing.”

“Are they pregnant?”

Why does he have to be so perceptive?

She looks at him meaningfully but says nothing.

“Thought so,” he chuckles. Incredibly, a small delighted smile tugs at his lips. It makes her heart race. She hates it. Nothing good will come from noticing these small things.

They arrive at the stall and take adjacent seats at the wooden counter. The owner greets them warmly.

“Rokudaime not coming tonight?” he asks, confirming Sakura’s assumption.

“It’s apple harvest week,” Sasuke explains. “They’re busy.”

The man whistles. “Tell them to save me some. My wife loves their apples.”

Sasuke nods, and they order skewers and beer.

“I didn’t know Kakashi-sensei is into farming now.”

“It’s mostly my brother’s thing, but during harvest, it’s all hands on deck.”

Sakura giggles. “That’s a funny thing to picture.”

“You can visit them,” he says evenly.

“If only I had the time,” she sighs.

He hums, and they take sips of their beers. Neither of them drinks much, but the cool beverage pairs well with their humble meal.

“I’m going there this weekend,” he says. “Babysitting Tomoko for two days.”

“Really?”

“Hm. Kakashi wants to surprise Itachi with an end-of-harvest getaway.”

Sakura stops herself from squealing. “They’re so nice together.”

Sasuke doesn’t reply immediately. He looks past the stall’s wooden setup, toward the trees lining the riverside, their silhouettes accented by scattered lantern light. Eventually, he nods.

“You like spending time with your niece,” she says, trying to restore the lighthearted mood. It brings that small smile back to his face.

“She’s a mini Itachi. I don’t know how a four-year-old can pull off the things she does.”

And there it is again—the warmth that was once absent for so long. It’s in his voice, the glint in his eye, and it destroys her inside. If cool and aloof Sasuke did it for her 12-year-old self, this new version is so much worse.

“She’s a clever one,” she manages, despite the knot in her throat.

Sasuke is not hers to keep, but when they’re sitting side by side like this, she can feel the burning of his cells just inches away, she can hear the flow of air in and out of his nostrils, bringing with it fragments of him out into the open air. He’s so deceivingly human that it’s harder not to look, harder not to feel, and harder not to wonder what might be.

Chapter Text

It’s Saturday night, and Sakura has decided to stay in. The week has been exhausting, and the soggy autumn drizzle refuses to lift, casting a gray haze over the village. Incongruously, she thinks of Kakashi-sensei’s apples. They’re probably safely stored by now, and her retired sensei is likely soaking in some onsen with his husband.

She pours herself a cup of tea and picks up a crossword magazine. The first page is dedicated to varieties of medicinal plants from the Land of Lightning—just the kind of distraction she needs. As her lower lip slides under her front teeth, she feels her body relax into the sofa.

Just then, there’s a sharp rap on the door, followed by three more impatient taps. She sighs and stands up.

When she opens the door, she’s greeted by Sasuke, rain-soaked and clutching a large bundle under a cloak. Tiny droplets cling to his hair and face, and his voice is rough, urgent.

“Sakura, I’m sorry. I was heading to the hospital, but I saw your house and the light was on…”

She spots a small hand grasping his lapel.

“Come in.”

They lower Tomoko onto the sofa, where Sasuke kneels beside her, letting the little girl cling to him.

“She seemed a bit tired after lunch, so I let her nap,” Sasuke explains. “When she woke up, she was burning up. I gave her the medicine Itachi packed, but it’s not helping.”

Sakura places her hand on Tomoko’s forehead. It’s hot—likely around 39 to 40°C.

“Tomoko-chan, can you open your mouth big, big?”

The girl complies, a frown on her stoic little face.

“Good girl. Now show me your tongue.”

Tomoko obeys again, and Sakura immediately spots the problem.

“Tomoko-chan,” she says gently, “Sakura is going to take a quick peek at your tummy, okay?”

A glance under the girl’s sweater reveals the telltale signs: small red dots peppering her skin.

“Alright, don’t worry. You’ll take some medicine and feel all better in a few days.” She taps the girl lightly on the head and turns to Sasuke. “It’s scarlet fever. She has a strep infection in her throat, and since it’s probably her first, the toxin is causing the rash. She needs antibiotics.”

Sasuke visibly relaxes, but there’s still work to do.

“Sasuke-kun, go to the kitchen and get a packet of frozen vegetables. I’ll write a prescription, and you can pick up the medicine from the hospital pharmacy while I stay with Tomoko-chan.”

He nods and quickly follows her instructions.

“Show me what you gave her,” she asks when he returns with a packet of frozen peas. He hands her the bottle.

“When did you give it to her?”

“About three hours ago.”

Sakura nods, adds a prescription for a different fever medicine to stagger with the one he’s already given, and sends him on his way. She wraps the frozen peas in a towel and slides the makeshift ice pack under Tomoko’s sweater, then gets her some warm water to sip.

Sakura hasn’t seen much of Sasuke’s niece until now, save for a few occasions at the Hatake estate or casual encounters around the village. The girl has dark hair, tawny skin, and clever brown eyes. Though she isn’t Uchiha by blood, Sakura can see shades of Itachi in her: the same serenity, the same stoic air, the same sense of being older than her years.

She wishes she could remember more of Sasuke and Itachi before the Uchiha tragedy, but all she can conjure are warped images of untouchable coolness.

When Sasuke returns, they easily convince Tomoko to eat some plain rice congee and take her medicine. The girl is relaxed on Sakura’s couch and clearly sleepy. Outside, the thin rain continues to fall like a cold, fuzzy mantle.

“You can stay here,” Sakura offers. “I’ll get you a spare futon.”

Sasuke looks tired, too. He nods and thanks her quietly.

After Tomoko falls asleep, Sasuke follows Sakura to the kitchen, where she pours him a cup of tea.

“I’m sorry to bother you like this.”

“It’s fine, really,” she says, trying not to think about the many ways this could go wrong.

“Let me check you too.”

He tilts his head, confused.

“Open your mouth. I want to check for signs of strep.”

“Oh.”

He parts his lips, and she shines a small flashlight into his throat.

“It’s clear. If you get a sore throat in the next few days, let me know.”

His eyes remain on her, pensive—not smoldering or enamored, as she once daydreamed, but focused. Thoughtful. She dismisses it.

“Go sleep, Sasuke-kun. I’ll head inside.”

He nods, and they exchange quiet goodnights.

The next morning, her two guests are already awake when she enters the living room. Tomoko is in much better spirits.

“Sakura-neesan, good morning!”

“Oh! Good morning! How are you feeling?”

“Good!”

“That’s great! And are you perhaps… a little hungry?”

“Veryyy hungry!” the girl squeals.

“Perfect. Let’s have breakfast, then!”

The rice she left on the timer is ready, and there’s leftover fish in the fridge. She puts the fish in the oven, pours seaweed mix into bowls, and heats water for soup. Remembering the cherry tomatoes she bought, she slices a few into a bowl.

Tomoko drinks two bowls of soup—which will be good for her throat—and between the three of them, they finish everything.

After breakfast, Tomoko is well enough to walk back to Sasuke’s house, excited that her dads are coming home in the evening.

“Do you like working on the farm with your papa?” Sakura asks.

Tomoko nods enthusiastically. “Tomoko likes to pull weeds, put the seeds in the little holes, dig out potatoes, and peel beans! But also to learn shuriken-jutsu with Sasuke-ojichan—”

Sasuke throws her a severe frown, and the girl sputters, slapping her hands over her mouth.

Sakura raises an eyebrow, and Sasuke sighs, explaining grudgingly.
“Itachi thinks she should start learning later, but it’s not like I’m using real shuriken. It’s for hand-eye coordination.”

“What??” Tomoko protests. “They’re not real shuriken?”

A little frown of disappointment crosses her face. Sakura crosses her arms, amused.

“Hand-eye coordination, huh?”

Sasuke sighs. “She’s good at it. Like her father.”

For a moment, his mind drifts elsewhere. His expression turns distant, absent.

“Don’t worry, I won’t rat you out. Call me if anything happens, okay? Otherwise, antibiotic every twelve hours for ten days, fever medicine as needed.”

“Thank you, Sakura.”

The uncle-niece duo leave, and Sakura allows herself a moment to spy on them from her window. They walk side by side, both with that distinctively upright Uchiha posture. After a few seconds, Tomoko raises her hand, and Sasuke takes it.

They exchange words muted by the distance. Sakura wonders if it’s this new relationship, or the things he’s been through, but she can’t shake the feeling that some kind of longing has settled on Sasuke. It’s changing him in ways she can’t quite define, and what it might mean for the future, she cannot tell.

Chapter Text

New Year at the Hatake-Uchihas has been a longstanding tradition, and Sakura has been invited since the very beginning. What started as a way to gather the loners of the village under one roof for a simple meal has evolved into a broader celebration. Sakura alternates between attending and spending New Year with her parents. This year, the decision was not hard to make. 

Sasuke has been a constant, magnetic presence in her life. She sees him at work, during late dinners by the river, and in casual, unexpected encounters. He remains far from gallant, yet his attention keeps her in a state of constant anticipation and undeniable arousal. She feels unmoored, like a wire stretched too tight, humming with tension. 

The weather has been cooling steadily, with snow in the forecast. She pulls out her white woolen cape and picks a dress that feels a bit outside her usual comfort zone. It is a sleeveless black silk dress with a straight, boxy cut that flows from her shoulders to her ankles. She pairs it with red heels and puts her hair up in a bun. She finalizes the look with pearl earrings. Normally, she is more understated, but something about tonight is burning under her skin. She decides to lean into that feeling. Beneath the elegant dress, she wears black lace, a secret known only to herself— for now.

When she arrives at the Hatake farmhouse, warmth greets her: the crackling fire in the hearth, the scent of food, and the easy camaraderie of their group of friends. The hosts, Kakashi and Itachi, are dressed in matching kimonos this year. They have taken to blending Uchiha and Hatake aesthetics, but tonight they lean toward the latter, in olive greens and earthen tones.

Sasuke hovers near Itachi, as he often does, wearing form-fitting black pants, a crisp white shirt with rolled-up sleeves, and a black vest. His hair is tied back in a low ponytail. It is the first time she has seen him dressed like this, and it stirs something deep inside her. When she removes her cape and shoes at the genkan, his gaze catches hers. This time, there is heat in his eyes.

She makes her way around the room, greeting everyone: Lee, Gai-sensei, Iruka-sensei, Kurenai-sensei, Mirai-chan, and others. When she reaches the hosts, Kakashi greets her first, pulling her into a warm hug. Itachi follows. Over the years, the familiarity she developed for her sensei extended to his husband, despite the man’s rocky past. 

Finally, she reaches Sasuke. Up close, he is even more striking: flawless skin, sharp angles, and that quiet intensity that makes him stand out wherever he goes.

They exchange polite bows, but as she straightens, she feels him lean in, his mouth close to her ear.

"This dress looks good on you," he murmurs.

Her jaw nearly drops. It takes everything in her to keep her composure.

"Thank you," she manages, swallowing the lump in her throat.

Sasuke has never complimented her appearance before. His praise has always been reserved for her intellect or strength, and even then, sparingly. There is something different about him tonight, and she itches to find out what it is, even as alarm bells ring in that part of herself that doesn’t want to put things into boxes and craves for the whole of him.

They drift apart as the evening unfolds. Sakura moves between conversations with ease. Sasuke, ever the introvert, remains in his comfort zone. With Naruto around it would have been certainly different, but Naruto is at the Hyugas’ and no one else is brazen enough to pull Sasuke out of his shell. 

From the corner of her eye, Sakura spots him playing with Tomoko by the hearth. They are engrossed in a game, perhaps marbles or something similar. In a later glance, she catches Sasuke looking at her, his gaze steady and unflinching.

The hosts eventually come out of the kitchen, each carrying a tray of soba.

"Eat up, it’s almost midnight," Kakashi announces.

After the noodles are cleared away, everyone bundles up for the traditional walk to Naka Shrine to hear the bells ring. As the group sets out, something soft grazes Sakura’s hand. She looks down to see Tomoko, wrapped in a brown coat and a matching blue scarf and beanie.

Sakura taps the pompom on the girl’s hat and makes a honking sound, earning a giggle. They walk hand in hand.

"Is this Tomoko-chan’s first time staying up late?"

The girl nods proudly. "Tomoko is a big girl now."

"That you are," Sakura says, smiling. "And what are Tomoko-chan’s plans for the new year?"

Tomoko hums, tapping her chin thoughtfully. "Help Papa and Papa, learn more letters, and master the Great Fireball Jutsu."

Sakura raises an eyebrow. "Papa Itachi already said yes," Tomoko adds quickly.

"I see. Good luck with your training, then!"

Sakura wonders if the girl truly has a fire affinity or if Sasuke has been planting impossible ideas in her head. As if reading her thoughts, Sasuke catches up to them, offering his hand to Tomoko. They walk like that, each holding one of the girl’s hands.

"Kakashi gave her the paper test. She has an earth affinity," Sasuke explains. "But it seems she’s also a bit of an overachiever."

"Papa Kakashi will teach me the Mud Wall, too!" Tomoko shouts, jumping excitedly and rocking them both in the process.

"I am not entirely convinced this is a good idea," Itachi interjects, joining them. "But I have been outvoted."

"Papa Itachi meanie," Tomoko teases, sticking her tongue out at him.

Itachi smiles, clearly delighted, while Sasuke glances at his brother. For a fleeting moment, his expression softens into something unguarded—pure, unadulterated adoration. But just as quickly it vanishes, replaced by his usual cool demeanor.

At the shrine, they go through the customary steps: rinsing, praying, and buying charms. Tomoko asks for a candied apple, but Itachi firmly denies her, resulting in a small tantrum. Kakashi ends up carrying her back, with Itachi trailing behind.

As the family disappears into the woods, Sasuke stands at the top of the shrine’s staircase, watching them go. When he catches Sakura watching him, he holds her gaze for a long moment. There is something pained but resolute in his eyes. Then his gaze shifts, raking over her from her lips to her red heels.

"I’ll walk you home," he says. She follows him, and they begin to walk towards the center of Konoha, passing by other groups on their own new year outings. When they reach her street, his fingers graze her hand on purpose and linger there for a long moment. There’s no question asked. When they reach her front door, he just stands to the side while she unlocks it and comes in when she holds it for him. A young voice inside her is cheering that it’s finally happening, but another, wiser one, is wary of what this means. He takes her cape when they enter the apartment, and lowers down on one knee to remove her shoe. She didn’t wear stockings, so his hand makes direct contact with her skin. He stays like that after both shoes are put away, hand resting on her ankle.

“Sakura,” he whispers, a bit breathless, hooded eyes, and it’s flattering, exciting. The arousal looks good on him.

“Go on,” she says, her voice softer than intended, an invitation.

He nods and nudges her leg up, lowering his mouth to her ankle. The heat of his lips on her skin sends a jolt through her, making her wobble slightly. Her back presses against the wall for support as his tongue slides along the inside of her calf, a slow and deliberate motion that makes her thighs clench.

His hands trace upward, hiking up the fluid silk of her dress and finding the curve of her hips. She shudders as his fingers graze her, firm and confident.

He stands, his movements unhurried yet purposeful, and holds her gaze.

“We should do this in bed,” he says.

Sakura takes a deep breath. The truth is, this intensity is working for her, just as she always imagined it would. Boxes. She knows exactly what this is. And she wants it.

What is a puberty crush, if not the first awakening of desire? Perhaps the person you’re drawn to at that age defines your type. Perhaps you’ll go on to love someone completely different. But when that idealized figure is standing before you, offering himself like this, there’s no room for doubt.

She grabs his wrist, more forcefully than she intended, and he winces slightly. Without a word, she guides him to the bedroom.

She doesn’t turn on the light, leaving the room bathed in the silvery glow of moonlight streaming through the window.

When his hands settle on her waist and his lips capture hers, it catches her off guard. She had always thought kisses were supposed to be romantic and, but perhaps that was a misconception born from the minds of novelists. This kiss is neither romantic nor filthy. It’s perfect. His tongue slides into her mouth, drawing a moan from her lips that she doesn’t even try to suppress.

The heat between them builds as his hands move to the hem of her dress, raking it upward. She raises her arms, allowing him to slip it off her completely. Now, she stands before him in nothing but the black lace she had chosen so carefully earlier. It’s a dead giveaway of her intentions, and she lets herself bask in his attention as he traces the lace with his long fingers and then cups her breasts, bringing his mouth to her neck, his lips soft and his breath hot against her skin. Her fingers thread through his hair, marveling at how thick and silky it feels, just as she had always imagined it would be. His lips explore the curve of her shoulder and the hollow of her throat, sending shivers down her spine. A warmth begins to pool low in her abdomen as her body gets ready for him.

He unfastens her bra with practiced ease, the straps falling away as his tongue flicks over her nipple. The sharp jolt of pleasure makes her gasp, her hands tightening in his hair.

It hits her then—he has done this before. He knows far too much about a woman’s body to be inexperienced. She is glad they are not each other’s firsts. If it had happened like this when they were younger, it would have been heartbreaking and confusing.

Right now, she knows she didn’t stumble into this, but rather wished for it, and now it’s happening. So she takes ownership of that desire. Her hands come to his shirt and start working on the buttons. When his chest is bare, she runs her hands over his skin, rougher than she intended, as though branding him with her touch.

A quiet grunt escapes him, sending a thrill through her. He kisses her again, deeper this time, and she begins to work on his pants. The button pops open, the zipper slides down, and she pushes the layers away in one smooth motion. Her hand wraps around him, and she basks in the feel of him, the size that is perfectly proportionate to him and so, so promising.

He grunts again, low and guttural. She lowers herself to her knees, taking him into her mouth. Her hands grip his hips, her nails pressing lightly into his skin as she lets herself fully take in the reality of this moment.

When she pulls away for breath, he lifts her back to her feet and lays her down on the bed. His hand slides into her panties, his fingers finding her clit and rubbing in slow, deliberate circles. He kisses her deeply, his body pressing firmly against hers.

It doesn’t take long before her body arches into his touch, the first wave of pleasure crashing over her.

Her breathing is still ragged when he whispers, “I have a clean health slate, as you know.”

She blinks, her mind scrambling to catch up. For all her preparation, she hasn’t thought this far ahead.

“I’m not on contraceptives,” she says between breaths. “You’ll have to pull out.”

He nods, his expression unreadable.

Kneeling between her legs, he hooks his fingers into her panties and slides them off, baring her completely. Her skin is smoother than his, a tone lighter, but her legs are thin and wiry, devoid of the quintessential feminine curves. He doesn’t seem to mind it. He runs his hands from her calves to her thighs, making well-defined muscles shift underneath.  He lowers himself over her, parts her legs wider and nudges her folds with his long fingers. Her eyes close and she feels his breath on the crook of her neck, his hair coming loose under her fingertips.

When he pushes into her, it feels perfect. His size is enough to fill her without pain, his movements steady and deliberate. She angles her hips slightly, and the shift makes him hit a spot that has her moaning uncontrollably.

He pulls out and turns her over, guiding her to her knees. When he enters her again, the angle is deeper, the sensation sharper. She lets go of all inhibition, one hand gripping the headboard and the other rubbing her clit as he thrusts into her. The pressure builds and builds until she comes again, her body trembling as pleasure radiates through her.

His pace quickens, his breathing ragged, and he finally pulls out, spilling himself onto her lower back.

Afterward, he waddles to her bathroom to clean up, and she collapses onto the mattress. She’s still reeling from the aftershocks, her body hypersensitive as the cool sheets press against her skin. The contact revives the sensations, sending another wave of pleasure coursing through her.

“Can I use this on you?” he asks from the doorway, still naked, holding a damp face towel in his hand.

“Hm,” she hums in agreement, too languid to form a proper response.

He steps closer and begins wiping her with practiced ease, his movements gentle and efficient. When he finishes, she pushes herself off the bed and heads to the bathroom, her muscles protesting every step.

She almost walks back out naked, but at the last second, she grabs a silk robe and slips it on. The fabric feels cool and luxurious against her skin, grounding her as she ties the sash around her waist.

When she reenters the room, Sasuke is zipping up his pants. His shirt hangs open from his shoulders, revealing the pale skin beneath, marred only by faint scars. The little glass Uchiha crest on his wrist catches the dim light, glinting faintly as he moves.

She leans against the doorway, watching as he buttons up his shirt and tucks it into his pants. He works methodically, his fingers steady as he fastens the vest and finally reties his hair. By the time he finishes, he looks almost exactly as he had at the party, except for the faint hint of relief softening his features.

He walks toward her with measured steps, his expression unreadable. When he reaches her, his hand lifts slightly, hesitating in the space between them. Finally, he brushes the sleeve of her robe.

“I understand if you want to talk about this now, but I’d rather we didn’t.”

Talk.

Of course—the boxes.

But Sakura doesn’t want to talk right now. She wants him to either stay and fulfill her childhood dream or leave so she can bask in the afterglow alone, maybe with a glass of wine, maybe with that crossword puzzle book she never got around to finishing. The latter feels more realistic.

“It’s fine, Sasuke-kun. We don’t need to talk about it.” She forces a smile, and he seems momentarily taken aback by her reaction. But he nods, and without another word, shows himself out.

She watches his cloaked figure disappear down the street, his silhouette shrinking until he turns at the corner. The sight of his lonely figure fills her with melancholy.

Sakura has been taught to fix people: broken bones, torn bowels, shredded muscles. She knows how to manipulate chakra with precision, to remake fractured bones and bind together what has been split. But she has a sinking feeling that what is broken in Sasuke can’t be fixed, no matter how much chakra she pours into him. Even if she depletes herself completely, until she is shriveled and empty, he will still be missing some part of himself. So, maybe, there’s no point in even trying.

Chapter Text

Sakura’s first time happened during a joint medical training in Suna. Back then, Kakashi sensei was still Hokage and Sasuke was still spending long stretches of time traveling, his whereabouts unknown until he magically reappeared for New Year and Midsummer each year.

The training lasted two relentless weeks of desert trekking and performing medical ninjutsu under extreme conditions. At night, they would set up camp and gather around a bonfire. Ever since the war, Sakura had grown used to men approaching her in these settings. Early on, she turned them all down with a kind of prideful superiority, holding onto the belief that she was saving herself for the big prize—the one who’d be hers in the end.

How foolish.

Year after year, she realized her obsession with Sasuke had more to do with her pride than with love. Her eyes began to wander. Sometimes, she would catch a rueful smile on an angular face, the flex of biceps hauling something heavy, or the lean figure of a man whose shoulders were broader than his waist. Something in her would stir, simmering with curiosity and interest.

The Suna medic was tall and dark-skinned, dressed in the pale robes of the desert people. His eyes were a brilliant brown-green, and his short hair curled and spiked in all directions. They came together three days before the training ended, meeting in his tent and, one memorable time, under the endless night sky, with only a blanket of his clothes separating her skin from the sand. When they parted, he gave her gifts—bangles and a small bronze statue in a leather pouch—and invited her to return. He also promised to visit. She felt a little heartless standing there, as no vision of a future with him had ever crossed her mind during those days.

This pattern went on for a couple of years. She tried dating and even a long-distance romance, but none lasted more than a few months. These brief attempts felt less like failures and more like experiments. It was reassuring to know that, in the end, she always returned to her work, her friendships, and her sense of self-worth, which remained untouched.

All in all, Sakura is no stranger to no-strings-attached encounters. So, what happened with Sasuke should be simple. Right?

Three days after New Year, he knocked on her door under the pretense of discussing some governance matter. They ended up sleeping together again. It was still cold outside, so he stayed a bit longer, not really chatting, but making scattered remarks about random things as she went around cleaning the house and preparing things for the return to work. When their daily meetings with Naruto resumed after the holidays, facing Sasuke in a work setting became increasingly difficult. Surprisingly, the pull that brought them together didn’t fade. Sometimes he would lay his eyes on her, or the tip of his sandal would brush her ankle under the table, and the session would feel twice as long. On those days, they would skip any pretense of socialization and head straight to her apartment.

Sasuke is everything she ever wanted in a lover—attractive, skilled, polite, intelligent. He never treats her like a body to use. In fact, he goes to great lengths to please her.

“I have no inhibitions. You can try whatever you want with me,” he told her once, and the words still send a thrill through her whenever she replays them in her mind. Not that she’s taken him up on the offer just yet—their encounters have been mostly vanilla—but the mere possibility is intoxicating.

One night, a couple of months into their arrangement, she asked him about his first time. His response caught her off guard.

“Juugo and Karin,” he said plainly.

She gasped, and he broke eye contact. “It weirds you out, I get it.”

“No, Sasuke!” she sputtered, scrambling to reassure him. The last thing she wanted was for him to see her as some kind of prude. But the truth was, apart from the unapologetic yet private love between Kakashi-sensei and Itachi, she hadn’t been exposed to other models of relationships beyond what her parents and society projected as the norm.

“I just didn’t expect it. But tell me about it,” she said, managing to recover.

Her curiosity earned her a rare glimpse into the mystery of Sasuke’s runaway years.

“I didn’t know what I wanted,” he admitted, “and they gave me an opportunity to figure it out… with them.”

“What about the other boy?” she asked, unable to stop herself.

Sasuke chuckled. “Suigetsu is made of water. He has no interest in that sort of thing. He dissolved and slipped away the moment he figured out what we were up to.”

That got a surprised giggle out of her, and Sasuke smiled, between amusement and relief.

More than a month has passed since that conversation. After their reckless first time together, they started using protection, and she hasn’t asked him if he’s been with anyone else—man or woman—since they began. She wants to know, but at the same time, she can’t bear the thought of finding out.

Winter fades away, giving way to warmer days, scattered rains, and the first blush of new blooms. Although Sakura is no longer seeing patients to focus on her duties as Hokage’s assistant, she made an exception for Hinata. The chakra melting-pot potentially brewing in her is largely unprecedented, so they all agreed that Hinata should be seen by either Sakura or Tsunade throughout the pregnancy.

Hinata arrives alone at the office that Sakura borrowed in the hospital for her 20-week anatomy scan. Naruto has been busier than ever, though Sakura can’t help but wish he’d left Sasuke in charge briefly to prioritize these moments.

Hinata is visibly antsy, her usual endearing shiveriness on full display.

“Relax, Hina-chan.” Sakura keeps her tone light. They’ve never been too familiar, but warmth usually works with the other woman.

Hinata’s bump is still small, even this far along, and Sakura can tell the judgment of older women has been clouding her mind.

“Let’s take a look. Have you been feeling alright?”

Hinata nods and reclines on the stretcher.

Sakura starts by feeling Hinata’s wrist and feeling for the baby’s chakra. Nothing seems out of order. Then, she picks up the wand and sprays gel over Hinata’s stomach. As she begins the scan, images flicker to life on the screen. Slowly, she guides Hinata through the baby’s anatomy, sensing her relief with every word: “Heart,” “lungs,” “left foot,” “right foot,” and so on.

“It’s all where it should be,” Sakura declares finally. “No reason to worry.”

“Thank you, Sakura-chan.”

Sakura smiles. “Would you like to know the sex?”

Hinata hesitates, her gaze dropping. “Maybe next time.”

Next time, Sakura thinks, Naruto needs to be here, even if it means dragging him away from work.

She heads to the tower, ready to deliver her lecture, but as she approaches the office, she catches the sound of Naruto and Sasuke’s voices. Their meeting isn’t for another few hours, which means Sasuke would normally be at home or reading old tomes in the library. Curious, she moves closer, straining to hear.

“I don’t know, I think you guys need to talk,” Naruto says, his tone uncharacteristically serious.

“Yeah, it’s not that easy,” Sasuke replies, sounding uncomfortable.

“And why is that, Sasuke?”

“It seems like she’s always avoiding it, like she doesn’t want to face whatever she thinks I’m about to say.”

Naruto sighs heavily. For a moment, he sounds ancient, a tired soul rather than the boisterous boy they grew up with. “Maybe you need to find a better setting. Not like… you know…”

Naruto trails off, and heat rises to Sakura’s cheeks. Are they talking about her? Did Sasuke tell Naruto about them? It’s plausible, but there’s still room for doubt.

“Like what?” Sasuke asks, his tone uncertain.

“Er… why don’t you invite her for hanami? Buy some finger food, bring a mat, go to the park. You know the drill.”

Silence ensues. The idea of Sasuke not knowing how to plan a hanami date is amusing, but it also sends her heart racing. If Sasuke invites her in the next few days, it means this conversation was about them, and there’s something he wants to say. If he doesn’t… well, she’ll have to confront the possibility that they’re not exclusive and he’s seeing someone else.

She hesitates. If she walks in now, they’ll suspect she overheard. It’s better to leave for now and return in time for the meeting. Quietly, she sneaks out of the tower and heads to the Yamanaka flower shop.

She feels like a shitty friend for not telling Ino about her and Sasuke over the past few months. Hopefully, it’s not too late to catch up on girl talk.

“Look what the cat dragged in!” Ino greets her with a knowing grin as Sakura steps inside. Then, noticing her frown, she adds, “Trouble in paradise?”

Sakura blinks. “How do you know?”

Ino chuckles. “Give me a minute.”

Ino checks outside for customers before closing the door and flipping the “Be Right Back” sign.

“Come on.”

They settle at the table in the back room, surrounded by stacks of soil bags and vases. Ino pours Sakura a glass of iced tea from a pitcher in the fridge.

“It’s getting warmer, isn’t it?” Ino comments idly.

Sakura swallows the lump forming in her throat. “Hm. Spring has come early this year.”

“The cherry blossoms in Senju Park will bloom soon…”

The mention of cherry blossoms sends another chill through her. She feels like a teenager again.

“What’s going on, Sakura?” Ino’s voice turns serious. “You and Sasuke…?”

Sakura sighs. “Yeah.”

When she doesn’t elaborate, Ino leans forward, one of her many talents being the ability to prod without mercy.

“So, last time we talked, you were thinking about getting involved with him. I take it that happened?”

Sakura nods stiffly.

“Relax, girl! This isn’t an interrogation. You did nothing wrong.” Ino pauses, then smirks. “So… how is it?”

“Ino!”

Her friend laughs wickedly. “Spill it.”

Sakura sighs, but now it’s dramatic, her sense of humor returning thanks to Ino’s antics.

“It’s spectacular,” she admits. “Amazing, mind-blowing, orgasmic…”

“Stop!” Ino whines, laughing harder.

“The worst part is, I’m not even exaggerating.”

“So?”

“It’s complicated.”

“Because you didn’t take my advice.”

That’s true, but not entirely. Sakura let affection creep into their arrangement, but it’s not just her.

“He doesn’t make it easy to compartmentalize. We work together, and we do things outside of work too. Dinner, walks… he stays over sometimes…”

Ino lights up. “Well, congratulations—you’re dating the man of your dreams!”

“I don’t know. It doesn’t feel like it.”

“What do you want? Flowers? Come on, this is Uchiha Sasuke we’re talking about.”

The comment gives her pause. Is it normal to have sex for months without ever talking about feelings if it’s Sasuke? Because… he’s always been reserved? She’s not sure. But she came here because her mind is buzzing with another topic.

“Actually… I overheard Naruto telling him to invite someone to hanami to talk about something. So now I’m wondering…”

Ino’s eyes widen as she nearly jumps out of her seat, only to remember her bump and sit back down. “That’s it! He’s going to confess!”

Sakura’s skepticism lingers, but her mood lifts.

“Now, for the fun part: we need to get you a hanami dress. I’m thinking reen polka dots to bring out your eye color, full skirt, cinched waist for the romantic look… You’re going to bag that man!”

“What if it’s not me? They didn’t say my name…”

Ino considers this, but her excitement is too far gone to stop now.

“Oh, come on. If he doesn’t invite you, there’s a line of men who would. Let’s focus on what matters—we need to make that dress happen.”

Sakura sighs, but her shoulders relax, and a familiar smile settles on her lips. Maybe Ino is right about most things. Maybe not. Either way, Sakura has decided she wants to hear whatever Sasuke has to say. If the invitation isn’t for her, well, then the answer doesn’t require any more words.

Chapter Text

When Sakura arrives for the meeting later that day, the Hokage’s office is more crowded than usual. Naruto and Sasuke are there, as expected, but so are Itachi and Kakashi-sensei. Her attention is immediately drawn to the older Uchiha, who is dressed in full jounin attire: hitai-ate tied securely around his forehead, dark green vest, armband, and leg bindings. Sasuke stands beside him in his usual clothes, but his cloak is folded under his arm, and both brothers carry identical swords at their hips.

Sakura doesn’t know much about the blades, only that Sasuke and Itachi first wielded them during the Fourth Ninja War and that they carry special significance to the brothers, as it was while wielding them that their ocular powers stabilized and Itachi’s eyesight was restored. Sakura always assumed that there is some kind of soul bond between the swords, but neither man ever opened up about it. One thing is certain, though: the fact that they carry such significant weapons now can only mean one thing.

“Sakura, glad you’re here,” Naruto says, motioning her in. He turns to an Anbu standing to the side. “Owl-san, report.”

The man code-named Owl steps forward and begins to relay his findings: strange sightings, a string of abductions, a massive weapon being constructed in a quarry guarded by sentinels, and a coordinated effort to spread false information about the shinobi villages through word of mouth.

“Sasuke proposed himself and Itachi for this mission,” Naruto says. “If you agree to this, they’ll leave immediately.”

Sakura feels the weight of her position settle over her shoulders. Sasuke intervenes.

“Human abductions must be dealt with without delay, especially when civilians are involved,” hesays, voice steady and sure. “The rinnegan can get us in and out. Itachi is one of the fastest shinobi in the village, which is critical for preserving the prisoners’ lives.”

His reasoning is sound and it is evident that their combined skills are well suited for the mission. That doesn’t put her at ease, though.

Her main concern is that, if faced with danger to his brother, Sasuke might lose all sense of mission—or worse, all sense of self-preservation.

However, blocking this decision based on her personal concerns for Sasuke feels hypocritical.

“I’ll prepare medical supplies,” she decides. “Who will substitute Sasuke-kun on the council?”

“It’s been arranged,” Kakashi replies, drawing her attention to Sai and Shikamaru as they enter the room.

It strikes her as odd that two people would be called, making the number of members even, but she has other matters to focus on.

As she turns to leave, Sasuke holds her gaze. “Thank you, Sakura.”

She tips her head and smiles demurely. “I’ll see you at the gate.”

She shunshins to the medical research division, to which she maintains full credentials. It’s funny to think that the first times that she tried her hand at making food pills here, under Tsunade’s mentorship, her teammated had gagged at the taste so much that it had become a running joke. She smiles as she runs her hand through the neatly organized shelves. None of the compounds kept here make it to the standard-issue medical kits available for any shinobi,. They reserved for elite shinobi, who can  use them responsibly, for a short period, without risk of addiction. 

She carefully selects and labels the pills, tailoring them to each brother’s medical history, then adds other compounds they might need. It’s a process she’s done many times before, but it never feels routine.

When she finishes, Sakura walks to the village gate. 

The small group has already moved past the threshold. She spots Sasuke first, already wearing his cloak and crossbody bag, standing silently as he observes a scene unfolding a few meters away.

Kakashi-sensei is adjusting Itachi’s hitai-ate, ensuring that the man’s bangs fall just right over the headband. When satisfied, their covered foreheads touch briefly, a ritual Sakura has seen before, back when Kakashi was Hokage and Itachi went on missions more frequently. What strikes her most isn’t their easy intimacy, but the way Sasuke watches them. His gaze is unguarded, as though he’s trying to peer into their souls and analyze the feelings they share. Only when Kakashi pulls his mask down to kiss his husband does Sasuke finally avert his eyes.

“Sakura,” Sasuke whispers when he notices her.

“Here. I brought supplies,” she says, handing him a carefully prepared bundle. “Everything is labeled. You’re familiar with all the compounds.”

“Thank you,” he replies, taking the pack from her hands.

He hesitates, his gaze flickering between her and the forest beyond, before saying, “After this mission… I want to talk to you.”

Her heart races wildly, but she manages to nod. He nods back, and without another word, he moves toward Itachi, who is waiting for him by the roadside. The brothers exchange a single glance, and then they vanish into the woods.

Kakashi approaches her with his usual slouch, but there’s a shadow of worry in his gaze.

“Never gets easier,” he confides, catching her by surprise. It’s a rare confession from a usually private person, and it makes her concern suddenly bleed into her expression.

“Don’t look like that, Sakura-chan. If anyone can pull this off, it’s the Uchiha tag team.”

She smiles weakly and nods.

“Time for us to get going too,” Kakashi says casually.

Sakura’s eyes widen in confusion.

“We’re the backup team, of course,” he clarifies, a faint grin tugging at his mask.

So that’s why Sai and Shikamaru were called: there were two council seats to fill, after all.

“What about Tomoko-chan?”

“Don’t worry. She’ll be in good hands.”

Sakura thinks that this mystery babysitter is probably Gai-sensei and feels equal parts amused and sorry for the sweet little girl.

The next time they meet, they’re at the same place, but it’s two hours later. Sakura is now in full mission gear. It’s been a while since she last donned her vest and bindings or packed for a journey. Kakashi, on the other hand, never really stopped wearing his uniform, so the changes in him are subtler.

“We’re approaching the quarry from the northeast,” he explains. “There’s an elevation there where we can observe the scene.”

He leads her through the woods, and they leap from branch to branch until well past sundown.

They stop to eat just outside the perimeter of the enemy base. Afterward, they climb a small hill to get a glimpse of the facility. By now, Sasuke and Itachi must be inside. The place is heavily guarded, with sentinels stationed by a large metal gate.

“Is there any intel on the weapon?” Sakura asks.

Kakashi gestures for her to follow him back into the forest, avoiding unnecessary risks. “Did Sasuke ever tell you about Kirin?”

Sakura frowns. “The unicorn?”

Kakashi nods. “While living with Orochimaru, Sasuke developed a signature jutsu that draws on energy from nature—in this case, electricity from thunderclouds. He only used it once, against Itachi.”

Sakura recalls the limp figure she and Sai had flown into Konoha, and how she’d wavered between her duty to save a life and her loyalty to Sasuke and his revenge. The jutsu hadn’t obliterated Itachi, but the damage was clear, even with his illness obscuring its full impact.

“This jutsu,” she says, “how does it work? Does one have to wait for a thunderstorm to form naturally?”

“No,” Kakashi replies. “As you know, thunderstorms require moisture in the air and a heat source to cause surface air to rise, condense, and form thunderclouds. Sasuke was able to achieve this using fire jutsu and, incidently, Itachi’s Amaterasu, but it only worked because there was already water in the atmosphere. There’s an underwater lake here, and what’s being built is apparently a giant furnace to heat the water. It’s unlikely that any of these people can harness lightning with their bare hands the way Sasuke does, bu they might use some sort of contraption. In that case,” Kakashi points towards the highes point of the opposite hill that frames the quarry, “if I were them, I’d use the top of that hill to lauch the attack.”

Sakura calculates the distance and possible angles. “Konoha?”

Kakashi nods. “They tried distributing leaflets to recruit people by spreading misinformation about us. When that didn’t work, they started abducting civilians.”

“Who are these people?”

“It’s still unclear.”

The informal briefing ends, and they set up camp for the night. Sasuke and Itachi might need them at any moment, so they take turns standing guard. Sakura’s turn begins just before dawn, making it feel more like waking early than taking a proper night shift. Her mind is clear as she keeps watch, her gaze drifting to the stars.

As the birds begin chirping with the first light, Kakashi stirs.

It still surprises her that Kakashi would personally join a mission like this—a retired Hokage in his forties, with a daughter waiting for him at home.

Sakura glances down at her former sensei, noticing details she’s often overlooked: the lines around his eyes from years of reassuring smiles, the subtle slouch that disguises the physical toll of his life, and the short hair where white has begun blending with grey.

Love, a voice in her head whispers. A pull so strong that no rational argument could counter it. She can only imagine what Itachi must mean to him. Beyond friendships and his fondness for his students, Itachi is the one attachment they all know Kakashi holds dear—until their adopted daughter seamlessly slotted herself within their bond.

Sakura’s chest tightens as her thoughts wander to Sasuke, deep within the quarry, navigating this perilous mission.

This unbearable need to be near… it’s such a romantic feeling, she thinks wistfully.

She pushes the thought aside as Kakashi opens his eyes, startled by something. She feels it too—a subtle shift in the fabric of space. Then, Sasuke appears before them, accompanied by three people.

They quickly tend to the civilians and settle them in a nearby clearing, instructing them to stay put and avoid attracting attention.

At a distance, Sasuke addresses her and Kakashi, his tone calm but urgent. “The weapon is fully constructed, except for final tests. There are around thirty civilians being held in cells. Itachi is keeping the guards under genjutsu while I ferry the prisoners out. The furnace is embedded in rock, so it will be difficult to destroy. If we use Amaterasu, we might end up helping them instead.”

Kakashi rests his chin on his thumb, deep in thought, but Sasuke continues.

“Sakura, you’ll come with me after the last group of civilians is out. While Itachi and I handle the guards, you’ll destroy the weapon with a physical attack.”

“How deep into the rock?”

“At least twenty meters.”

She nods, already formulating a plan. They lock eyes, and Sasuke nods back before flickering away.

By the time the last prisoners are extracted, Sakura has amassed enough chakra to power a devastating attack. She is ready.

“Let’s go, Sakura.”

The rinnegan warps the world around her, and in an instant, they’re inside the facility. The guards have broken the genjutsu, and Itachi is engaged in a fierce battle with a group of about ten men. His movements are precise, his sword slashing through the attackers with deadly efficiency.

Sasuke touches the hilt of his sword and gestures for Sakura to move forward. They sprint through a long tunnel until they reach a cavernous space dominated by a large metal structure embedded in the rock.

“That’s the furnace,” Sasuke says, just as another group surrounds them.

Sasuke draws his sword and cuts a path for her to advance toward the structure. Sakura leaps up several levels to assess the points she needs to target. From above, the furnace looks like a massive chimney lined with mirrors and punctured by rows of holes. Overhead, a metal hatch embedded in the cave’s roof begins to open.

She adjusts her gloves, takes a deep breath, and lands her first punch, creating a crack on one side of the structure and displacing several mirrors.

“Next,” she mutters, readying another strike, but a shuriken intercepts her.

She turns to see a large man in dark shinobi garb, with no identifying headband. Another man of similar build joins him. The two charge at her, and she dodges. Overhead, the hatch continues to open.

She draws a kunai and engages the pair. Since she began training under Tsunade, Sakura’s fighting style has favored taijutsu, with her chakra control amplifying her physical strength. She’s grown accustomed to the rawness of it—the impact of bone against bone, the satisfaction of overpowering bulkier opponents. But now, conserving chakra is critical, so she switches to a more evasive, tactical approach that she learned from Kakashi.

She manages to graze one of the men’s masks, revealing a face she doesn’t recognize. The two close in again, but before they can corner her, someone appears at her side.

Itachi, now wielding a kunai instead of his sword, fights back-to-back with her. Together, they break through the men’s defenses. But when one of the attackers leaps away and triggers a control panel, both Itachi and Sakura gasp.

Heat begins to rise beneath their feet. The holes along the reactor’s walls fill with flames, and suffocating, humid air spreads through the cavern.

“Sakura, now! I’ll handle them!” Itachi shouts.

From the corner of her eye, she sees Itachi and Sasuke fighting together against the two men. Sakura resumes her task, delivering punches to the furnace’s weak points. The heat is unbearable, but she perseveres.

Finally, with one last strike, the floor collapses, extinguishing the flames and sinking the structure into the lake below.

She perches on a protruding rock and starts climbing the cave wall. From her vantage point, she sees Itachi knock one of the men unconscious. The other flees toward a large apparatus, looking to the sky.

The air crackles as a beam of lightning begins to form.

Sasuke intercepts it, and in an instant, a massive figure of flashing blue light materializes in the sky. The Kirin.

“Itachi! Get her out now!” Sasuke’s voice is unlike anything she’s ever heard.

A moment later, Itachi grabs her and leaps up the cave walls, hauling her to safety. Below, Sasuke directs the lightning at the ground, leveling the cave, filling the lake with rubble, and partially collapsing the hill above the quarry.

When the dust settles, Kakashi captures the fleeing man, sealing him as a team of Anbu arrives to take him away.

As the storm fades, they join the group of frightened civilians, who have been sheltering in place. Kakashi reassures them gently, promising that a rescue team will assist them and return them home.

One man, visibly shaken, builds the courage to speak. “Rokudaime… is it true? They said that Konoha discriminates against civilians, that jobs are taken by shinobi families, that we pay more for food, medicine, and transportation. That you’ll take our land and children one day.”

The mention of transportation reminds Sakura of the thunder train incident. Perhaps there’s some truth to the accusations, or perhaps the rumors were part of the plot. She makes a mental note to follow up with Naruto. Sasuke seems to be thinking the same. Their eyes meet briefly.

Kakashi sits with the civilians to ease their fears, while Sakura sits nearby, surprised when Sasuke joins her. He doesn’t speak, and neither does she. They simply breathe together, letting the adrenaline fade.

She recalls his shout and realizes he asked his precious brother to enter a collapsing cave to save her. The thought fills her chest with warmth, almost elation. Yet the true meaning of the gesture still escapes her.

Chapter Text

They arrive in Konoha at sundown. Itachi is eager to get home to Tomoko, while Kakashi walks leisurely through the forest, a quiet contentment about him. Just outside the gates, they part ways—the two elders heading toward their farmhouse and Sasuke and Sakura continuing into the village.

The broad main street is quiet at this hour, the stillness of the night wrapping around them.

When they reach the intersection that leads to the old Uchiha compound, Sasuke stops, and Sakura halts beside him.

“Come with me,” he says, his tone calm, giving her the space to decide what she wants.

“I don’t want to talk right now,” she replies, recalling their unresolved interaction from the day before.

It’s perhaps abrupt and rude, and a part of her scolds herself for it, but they just went through a grueling mission. Any kind of serious conversation about them will have to wait.

They seem to be on the same page. A hint of a smirk crosses his face. “I don’t want to talk either. Not tonight.”

She sways slightly, letting herself be drawn closer. “I’ll need a bath,” she murmurs.

Sasuke hums, low and reverberant. “It can be arranged.”

The Uchiha compound is no longer a compound in the traditional sense. The houses were rebuilt during Kakashi’s tenure, but the surrounding wall was removed, replaced in parts by gardens. There’s also a small playground now, along with a pond.

Sasuke’s house is on one of the central streets, surrounded by other homes given to those displaced by the war.

Sakura remembers visiting the Uchiha compound once as a child. Her mother had wanted to see a renowned tailor who specialized in cocktail dresses. Sakura had been both impressed and intimidated by how different the place had felt. The people, mysterious and proud, had conjured both admiration and fear. She’d known about the Sharingan even then and had avoided looking anyone in the eyes.

Now, as she steps into the genkan and removes her shoes, she wonders what it must be like for Sasuke to live here again, after all he has been through.

“Itachi rebuilt this house,” Sasuke says, offering her a pair of slippers before moving into the house and switching on the lights. “I couldn’t have done it from memory alone, but he already had the Sharingan before he left. Every detail was stored in his ocular memory, down to the smallest one.”

Sasuke isn’t usually this talkative. Sakura had expected more action after their unspoken agreement not to talk, but perhaps she had misread him. As he guides her deeper into his home, the look on his face is almost nostalgic.

He moves to the kitchen and retrieves two glasses of water. She accepts hers, sipping quietly as her eyes wander around the living room. The space feels more lived-in compared to the rest of the house, which is otherwise immaculately clean.

On one wall, there’s a cluster of small frames holding childish drawings of animals and other shapes. On a bookshelf, technical ninjutsu tomes sit alongside old epic novels. A photo of Sasuke and Itachi, taken some four or five years ago, rests on a shelf. Both brothers wear soft, almost identical smiles, standing against a backdrop of greenery. In the alcove, there is an ink painting of a moonlit river.

“I commend you for maintaining these tatami floors. It’s hard to find craftsmen these days,” she remarks.

“It is,” he replies. “I’ve had to learn how to make small repairs myself. I also replace the paper on the door frames and handle minor plumbing issues.”

This earns a laugh from her, a bright, spontaneous giggle that she quickly muffles with her hand.

“That’s so unlike you, Sasuke-kun.”

His eyes widen for a fraction of a second before his expression hardens, the guarded look returning. She realizes immediately that her comment wasn’t the right one, and the momentary sadness that follows surprises her.

“I’ll prepare your bath,” he says, retreating through the corridor to the back of the house. She hears the sound of running water as he works.

The warmth of their earlier domestic exchange feels distant now, something she quietly mourns. The nagging feeling that she might be unfair to him returns. Her thoughts drift back to her conversation with Ino, about the need to compartmentalize. But what if that idea is misguided, after all?

Sasuke returns, changed into a dark jinbei, his damp hair curling slightly at the ends. He holds out a clean towel.

“It’s ready,” he says.

She follows him to the bathroom, which is now warm and misty with steam. He doesn’t make a move to touch her, leaving her to enjoy the bath alone.

It feels strange to undress in an unfamiliar space. The anticipation from earlier has faded, and for a moment, she’s unsure what she’s doing here. She sinks into the warm water, letting it envelop and soothe her body.

When she emerges, she finds Sasuke in the living room, sitting on his hunches by the window, staring at the night sky. His left hand clutches his right, and it might be an optical illusion, but she thinks she spots tiny sparks dancing on his fingertips.

“Sasuke,” she says, dropping the honorific unconsciously, something she’s been doing more often with him lately. “Are you alright?”

He turns to her slowly, his expression calm and unreadable. “Come.”

She follows him to the bedroom, a plain, uncluttered space with a large, low bed and a single wide window. They stand face to face, uncharacteristically awkward. Usually, this comes to them more naturally, but tonight feels different.

Their remaining clothes slip off easily. When their bodies come into contact, a tingling sensation spreads through her, as though he’s still charged with electricity from earlier. She wonders if some part of that destructive energy lingers in him, refusing to dissipate.

He grabs her hand and pulls her onto the bed. The sheets smell of him—crisp and clean—and feel smooth against her back.

He wastes no time. His mouth moves between her legs with precision, and her body responds immediately, arching into him as his fingers slide inside her with ease. When the first climax overtakes her, her mind is blank with bliss.

Sasuke retrieves a condom, rolling it on silently. She expects him to take her just like this, but instead, he flips them so she’s on top, guiding her into his lap. His hands grip her hips, and that electric sensation returns, like a faint current sparking through her skin.

“Sasuke?” she asks, her voice hushed.

His eyes close briefly before meeting hers again. “Make it go away,” he says, his gaze flickering toward his fingertips. She’s not sure what she can do about it, other than letting that lingering current pass onto her.

Taking his hands in hers, she guides herself onto him. The first glide is a little rough, but she doesn’t stop. Their fingers interlace, and she feels it more strongly now, like an angry spirit traveling through her flesh. As she carries on moving—grinding and circling, clenching around him, drawing deep moans from him—the small shocks begin to fade.

His eyes close, his lips part, and that’s all she can focus on right now. Maybe she’s been avoiding something that will become too real the moment it’s put into words, but that doesn’t change the fact that, despite all the pain and all the mistakes, he is still the man she has always desired.

His eyes open again and he starts to move with her, thrusting upward as she presses down. The rhythm builds, each movement driving them closer to the edge.

When they finally reach their climax, it feels like every nerve in her body lights up, the sensation rippling outward like an electric storm—even though it’s merely metaphorical now. She smiles, a fleeting thought of electric sex crossing her mind.

Sasuke isn’t smiling, but some of the heaviness in him seems to have faded.

He nudges her gently, and she slides off him, giving him space to get off the bed and go clean up. A minute passes, then two. She lies there, unsure of what the protocol is now. Should she slip back into her grimy mission clothes and do the walk of shame to her apartment? Or maybe… maybe she’s feeling bold.

The room is warm, and there are no clothes for her to put on, so she gets up as she is, and starts padding softly toward the bathroom. The wooden floor feels cool under her feet. She treads lightly through the corridor, careful not to make the floorboards creak.

Through the half-open bathroom door, she spots him. He’s still naked, his face damp from splashed water. He stands motionless, facing the mirror. His reflection looks distant, as though his mind is somewhere else entirely.

Moments later, he notices her approach but says nothing as she steps inside, positioning herself half behind him. Quietly, she studies his profile, waiting, giving him space.

Slowly, he turns away from his reflection to face her.

“You can stay,” he says, his voice low.

She takes his hands in hers, her touch light, just enough to support their weight. The skin between his fingers is red and starting to blister. She channels a small stream of chakra into the area, the gentle green glow illuminating the space between them.

He watches the process in silence, his expression unreadable.

Finally, she musters the courage to ask, “The Kirin—does it hurt you?”

His gaze shifts, avoiding hers. “I have a natural lightning affinity, so the effects aren’t serious.”

“So, it’s not physical…” she prompts.

He hesitates. “Orochimaru thought it was a terrible jutsu. All firepower and no finesse. I didn’t listen to him. I wanted to obliterate Itachi. I wanted to see him reduced to a lifeless husk, to—”

His voice cuts off abruptly, the words hanging in the air like a weight.

Sakura stops the flow of chakra, her hands stilling over his. She steps closer and wraps her arms around him, holding him tightly. He doesn’t pull away. Instead, he leans into her, folding himself into her smaller frame as though seeking refuge.

Her thoughts wander. What was Sasuke’s mother like? Was she gentle, nurturing? Or was she a tough, no-nonsense parent? Either way, he must miss her terribly.

“Itachi is alive,” she reminds him softly. “He’s healthy. He’s at home right now, with Kakashi-sensei and Tomoko-chan. You have a family, Sasuke.”

He exhales deeply, the tension in his body easing slightly. When he unwinds from the embrace and looks at her again, there’s something heavy in his gaze, something serious and raw.

“Thank you,” he says, his voice steadier now. “I don’t know what got to me.”

She squeezes his hands gently, offering a small, reassuring smile. “Do you have some pajamas I can borrow?”

The nakedness would otherwise be thrilling, but it’s late and it feels as though they have just reached an emotional milestone. Even if she isn’t going home tonight, they should try to get some sleep.

He nods and retrieves a jinbei similar to the one he had been wearing earlier. When she slips it on, it falls loosely around her frame, making her look boyish. Still, the fabric feels soft and fresh against her skin, carrying the distinct, comforting scent of clean laundry.

She inhales deeply, noticing that the woodsy scent she sometimes picks up on him comes from the cabinets in this house. It mingles with the faint jasmin fragrance of whatever detergent he uses, and she decides she likes it.

When she turns back to him, she notices they’re matching now, both clad in dark, simple jinbei. The realization makes her giggle.

She grabs his hand and tugs him toward the bed. “Let’s sleep, Sasuke-kun.”

For a moment, he hesitates, watching her with that quiet intensity of his. But then he follows her lead, letting himself be pulled into the warmth of their shared space.

Chapter Text

It’s the smell of jasmine and wood that gives it away. Then it’s the bed she’s lying on, firmer and wider than her own. The day begins sunny, but the sheer curtain filters the harsh glare, turning it into a gentle light that washes over the minimalist space of Sasuke’s bedroom. A multicoloured lamp made of small glass pieces lends the room some vibrancy. Sasuke is like that too, she thinks. Amid the austerity of his long silences and curt answers, there is an inner warmth that shows itself at times.

She stands up and pats her hair down. She let it dry on its own last night (having been otherwise preoccupied), and now the locks seem to have each taken their own outlook on life. It doesn’t help that her uniform is nowhere to be found and the jinbei is, in the light of day, not all that flattering.

She goes looking for Sasuke anyway, letting curiosity overcome her self-consciousness.

She finds him in the backyard, feeding Tomato, the cat. He’s already changed into his usual dark pants and dark shirt combo, with his hair tied up. It’s getting longer these days, though a few soft strands still stubbornly cling to his neck and fall over his eyes. She feels an urge to go to him, to press herself against his back and wish him a good morning. But that’s probably overstepping.

He finally notices her when he stands up, plate in hand, and walks over to her. “I washed your uniform,” he says plainly. “It should be dry soon.”

“Thank you.” She is struck again by how mundane this all is, and her expression must give away some of her surprise.

He sighs. “Why is it so strange to you that I take care of things at home? I’m not a character in a movie. Things don’t get done by themselves.”

She swallows. Why is he getting triggered when she didn’t even put her foot in her mouth this time? Is he in a bad mood? Tense. But why?

“Of course,” she eventually agrees.

“Sorry.” Their voices almost overlap. “I jumped to conclusions,” he adds.

“It’s fine,” she says. And, because he scolded her for no reason, “So, can I also assume there’s breakfast for me?”

He scoffs. “Obviously.”

She giggles, her mood improving with their restored peace and the prospect of food. In the kitchen, he boils water, pours tea leaves into a teapot, and offers her a cup. He then scoops soup, rice, natto, and smoked fish into different bowls and plates. Finally, he picks a few small tomatoes from a plant on the windowsill, washes them, and seasons them.

They sit down at the dining table to eat. His food is tasty, with a unique kind of kick. Maybe these are dishes his family used to make, or perhaps he learned them during his travels. She decides not to offend him again by remarking that she’s surprised he can cook. Instead, she keeps quiet and relishes the moment.

The dryer beeps, and he brings her the uniform. It smells of jasmine.

“Thank you. I’ll go change.”

Three minutes later, already in her uniform, she finds him standing in the corridor, holding a small scroll.

“Naruto gave us the day off,” he says.

She nods, feeling something start to swirl in her belly.

He clears his throat. Sasuke is a man of few words, but not a hesitant one. Whatever he has to say, he usually delivers it decisively and without mercy.

“Do you want to go to the park later?” he asks.

And there it is. Park. Hanami. Talk. But...

“It’s not warm enough yet for cherry blossoms,” she deflects. If this is what Ino thinks it is, she’s underdressed, unprepared, and the little unhinged girl inside her starts screaming in alarm.

“We can go anyway,” he counters, looking a bit irritated.

She swallows hard. Right. She can’t blow him off again. Sasuke had already complained to Naruto that she’d been avoiding the inevitable conversation. It’s time to face it.

“What time? I have errands...”

“Five?” he suggests.

Five. She can handle that. “Okay.”

“Okay,” he repeats. “I’ll see you at the cherry grove.”

She nods and excuses herself, walking calmly until she is out of sight, then shunshins directly to the Yamanaka flower shop.

Ino watches her haggard figure appear inside the store, smirking.

“What now, Forehead?”

“Hanami. Sasuke asked me out,” she blurts.

Ino frowns. “Hanami? The flowers aren’t even blooming yet.”

“I know! But who cares about the flowers? I don’t know what to do. We just got back from a mission, I slept over at his place, and—”

“Wait, wait, wait! You what?” Ino squeals. “At the Uchiha residence? Oh my!”

“Ino, stop.”

“Right.” Ino laughs, looking sheepish. “So, when’s this date?”

“At five.”

Ino glances at her watch. “Sasuke isn’t someone who’ll understand fashionably late, so let’s aim to be on time. It’s 11 now, so we’ve got six hours. But besides finding a dress, you’re going to want to go home, rest for a bit, take a long bath, and do your nails, hair, and makeup. I’ll come by to help with that. So, shall we?”

Sakura doubts Sasuke will care much about how she looks, but the whole preparation process might help calm her nerves, so she agrees and goes along with it.

They leave the shop in the hands of Ino’s assistant and head to one of the nearby arcades, where there is a row of popular boutiques. The first store caters to an older demographic, filled with formal office wear that makes Sakura uncomfortable just to look at. The next is better, but everything feels too flowery, girly, and entirely wrong for the message she wants to convey.

By the third shop, Sakura is already questioning this entire idea. Maybe she should just show up in her usual uniform or one of the red cheongsams her mother loves giving her.

“Sakura-san, Ino-san,” calls a voice from the next row.

Looking up, Sakura sees Hinata holding a flowy lavender dress, with Hanabi standing beside her.

“Hello,” Sakura says, trying to hide her mild embarrassment.

“Are you two shopping as well?” Hanabi asks.

“We’re looking for a dress,” Ino answers. Too late, Sakura realizes her friend is about to broadcast her situation to the world.

“Sakura has a date,” Ino announces.

Sakura slaps a hand over Ino’s mouth just as the words escape, but the damage is done. Both Hyuga sisters smile identical, benevolent smiles.

“With Sasuke-kun?” Hinata asks, then visibly scolds herself for prying.

Ino nods mischievously.

“Well, have you found anything yet?” Hanabi prompts.

Sakura shakes her head.

“We can help,” Hinata offers, a glint of excitement in her eye.

And so, the four of them turn the shop upside down, piling Sakura with outfits to try on and acting as an impromptu jury every time she steps out of the fitting room. They repeat the process in the shop next door.

“You’re looking for something too specific,” Sakura tells Ino. “Maybe that kind of old movie outfit isn’t in fashion anymore.”

Ino sighs. “Sorry, I got carried away. Did you see anything you liked?”

Sakura takes a moment to think before picking up an aquamarine dress. The cut is straight, with a simple pink cord to tie at the waist. The neckline is round and modest, and the bell sleeves fall to her elbows. “It’s still kind of cold,” she explains.

She tries it on and is satisfied with the reflection in the mirror. Most of all, it feels like her. If one thing has to come out of this conversation with Sasuke, it’s honesty.

She steps out of the fitting room. “So?”

Three heads nod in approval, and that’s that.

Later in the afternoon, Ino makes good on her promise to come by and help with her hair, though they end up chatting more than anything—mostly about Ino’s pregnancy, Sai, and her career choices. It’s nice to focus on someone else’s life for a change.

Ino pins Sakura’s hair up with small clips, leaving it looking natural but elegant. They head out together, parting ways midway.

Senju Park is not crowded. It’s a working day and the weather is still only half-pleasant. In a few days, if the forecast is right, warmer air will coax the cherry blossoms open and the place will fill with families, friends, and couples.

She strolls across the lawn at the entrance and makes her way toward the edge of the forest, where the pond and the cherry grove lie. From the wide-open area she can begin to make out the silhouettes and colors of the trees. To her surprise, amid the blur of dark brown, a single tree stands out. It is not in full bloom, but several branches have burst into white and pale pink, like popcorn just popped. Sasuke sits beneath that tree.

Sakura allows herself a moment to take in the scene. He has spread a blue-and-white checkered throw and sits cross-legged on it. He is still in the same clothes, no jacket, his hair pulled into a half-bun. A picnic basket rests by his knee. The wind catches in the branches and a swirl of white petals rises around him. Her heart lifts. The image is dreamlike, as if a daydream she once nursed through Iruka-sensei’s monologues had stepped into the world.

He looks her way, and she is caught by the spell of his mismatched eyes. The Rinnegan glimmers faintly, a reminder that he is not ordinary and never will be.

He stands and bows, his gaze moving over her, and instead of lust or admiration she sees a flicker of conflict.

“I brought tea,” he says once they sit, pouring from a thermos into a cup.

“Did you get the tree to bloom?” she teases.

“I couldn’t; my powers would only let me burn it or split it with lightning,” he replies without a hitch. “I was just lucky.”

She giggles. “It’s pretty.”

“You too,” he says, then corrects himself. “You look pretty too.”

Her heart skips. After New Year, it is only the second time he has complimented her appearance.

“Daifuku?” he offers, holding out a soft, powdery sweet.

“Thank you,” she says, accepting it. “You don’t like sweets.”

“But you do.”

She sighs. The rice dough is chewy and refreshing, and the bean paste is nutty and comforting. It does not settle her nerves. It feels too perfect. He is behaving like a figure from a fairy tale, and yesterday he was the one who reminded her he is a person.

She takes another bite, but it hardly makes it past her throat. She needs to end this dance.

“Spill it, Sasuke-kun. What do you want to tell me?”

He draws a breath and takes the hit as well as a proud Uchiha can. He sets his teacup on the grass and turns toward her, holding her gaze. Her stomach flutters.

“Sakura, we’ve been seeing each other for three months. I thought this would bring you joy, considering what you told me many times when we were young. But I don’t think that’s what’s happening. I’m not making you happy. If anything, I’m making you more troubled than before.”

it never occurred to her that he's pick up on something like this. Although she was never too confident about the whole compartimentalization thing, she'd never thought it would be written on her face.

“You aren’t making me more troubled,” she says. “But I’m confused, Sasuke. I can’t fathom what you think or feel, and it makes me insecure.”

Has she been expecting a confession, against all odds? Something like: I can’t stop thinking about you, I burn for you, I’m enthralled by you. What Sasuke said is at the antipodes of all that. If anything, his feelings seem conspicuously absent from his whole speech.

He looks up at the knobby branches. “I guessed as much. Naruto told me I needed to be more romantic and I scoffed and called him an idiot, but then I realized he was partly right.”

“Hence hanami?”

“Hm.”

It is endearing in its way, and she warms to the effort, but it does not touch the heart of it. “It’s not about being romantic, though.”

“No,” he admits, lowering his gaze, and it pains her to see how hard this is for him.

“I can’t feel love,” he says abruptly.

It shocks her, and yet it doesn’t. A part of her sounded that alarm long ago.

“At first it was my revenge and my training,” he continues. “They consumed everything. There was no room for anything else. Even the bond I had with you, Naruto, and Kakashi wasn’t just suppressed. It was pulverized. Then I met Itachi again. We fought, and he survived. It was a mess. I was a mess. I couldn’t forgive him, but he was all I had left. We fought the war together against Madara. We reconnected, and bit by bit I regained the love and admiration I had for him. I even went back to caring about Kakashi, Naruto… you. I started to feel attracted to people. I experimented. I went from place to place and let myself connect with all kinds of people, but it was never love. I asked Itachi what it felt like, and I couldn’t relate to anything he said. I came back and settled. I thought, if there is someone I should love, it is you, because you are beautiful, smart, strong, kind, and you’ve always been there for me. When I saw you at New Year, you looked stunning. A woman, not a girl. I wanted you immediately. I thought that was it at last. I had overcome the wall between me and love. But I failed. I’m failing you. I don’t know why or how to fix it. I’m sorry.”

Sakura’s mind reels. It feels like both a punch and a caress.

Against the not-quite-joyful colors of the park, he looks tragic again, beautiful and far away. She aches for him, and for herself, and for a perfection that cannot be.

He sits with his hands in his lap, a little like a rag doll. Defeated.

“Sasuke,” she says. It occurs to her that if she stops now, if she tells him it’s okay, I enjoyed what we had, don’t force yourself, they could still walk away and one day salvage their friendship. She cannot stop herself. She wants to understand. “Why are you telling me this? I didn’t ask for more. Or do you want more?”

He does not hesitate now. “I want a life companion, Sakura. A like-minded person to be with, to talk to, to confide in, to go home to. After the dust settled, after the war, I started thinking that person would be you.”

The idea rushes in, bright and uninvited: evenings cooking, sleeping and waking side by side, doing laundry and feeding the cat together. Gilded images in warm light. Beneath them a hard truth. He does not love her. He needs comfort, and he thinks she can provide it. What is she supposed to make of that?

“I need some time to process this,” she says.

“I understand.”

They sit in silence for a while, the cold wind threading through their clothes.

She stands.

“Will you come to me when you have an answer?” he asks.

“I will.”

As she walks away from him, from the picture-perfect image of him beneath the pale blossoms, she is too keyed up to cry. Only at home does she allow herself to mourn, because whatever comes of this, it will never be her childhood dream.

Chapter Text

Naruto and Sai are already in the office when Sakura arrives for their regular meeting. The room smells faintly of ink and tea.

Naruto takes in her look of concern and says, "Sasuke asked for a few days off. Sai will keep sitting on the council until he’s back."

She frowns, and she can almost see the wheels turning in her friend’s head. She doesn’t know how much Sasuke told him, but Naruto is clearly trying to gauge her reaction.

"I see. Shall we then?"

They turn to village business, starting with the two men they captured on their last mission.

"Kakashi-sensei and Itachi have already filed a full report. Sakura-chan, have a look and tell me if you want to add anything," Naruto says.

"Intelligence also delivered the interrogation transcripts this morning," Sai adds.

Sakura takes the transcripts first and skims through them.

"They took full responsibility and didn’t implicate anyone else," she summarizes.

"Hm."

"And their target was Konoha alone? Not any other shinobi villages?"

"That’s what it seems," Naruto says.

Sakura taps her fingers on the tabletop. Something does not sit right.

"How about the train ticket incident?"

"What about it?" Naruto asks.

"I think they might be connected. One of their claims was that shinobi villages discriminate against civilians. The ticket rumors could be a sign that a similar plan is underway to target Suna."

"That’s concerning," Naruto says. "Sai, can you assign Anbu to investigate."

"Copy," Sai replies.

The remaining topics are less urgent, and they move through them quickly. When they finish, Sai excuses himself, and Sakura finds herself again under Naruto’s steady gaze.

"Are you okay, Sakura-chan?" he asks, voice laced with concern.

"I’m fine, Naruto. Don’t worry about me."

The funny thing is, she is fine. After having a good cry last night, she woke almost normal. She went to work, ate regular meals, and made arrangements for a training session after this. 

Being rejected by Sasuke more than once in the past has given her a kind of armor, and at least now she knows he didn’t leave to train with a monster or face one of the deadliest shinobi alive. He is probably fine, maybe already halfway to another destination. Maybe he will go “connect” with people there, or whatever he said. With his current abilities, she has no reason to worry. So she lets herself be selfish.

"If Sasuke did anything bad to you, tell me and I’ll go pummel him," Naruto says when she stays quiet for a beat.

"Please don’t pummel him. Also, we need you in the village, so don’t go running after your eternal rival. Let him be."

Naruto looks puzzled, then something clicks. "He didn’t run off. He’s at home. He told me that specifically. I’m not sure why."

That is surprising, given Sasuke’s habit of disappearing.

Will you come to me when you have an answer?

Is Sasuke waiting?

"I think I might have jumped to conclusions,” she admits.

"I don’t know what happened, Sakura-chan. But you shouldn’t blame yourself for assuming what he’s done countless times. Just... don’t carry it alone. If you need to talk, I’m here."

Naruto does this often now, getting all serious and grown up. It is natural, as they are nearing their thirties, but it still surprises her and brings a smile to her face.

"Thank you Naruto.”

After that, she goes to training. The next day she cleans the house and then spends the day accomplishing an impressive amount of work, even by her standards. She doesn’t take Naruto up on his offer, nor does she go to Ino, who must be wondering how things went.

She repeats the routine for the rest of the week and spends the weekend on more cleaning, more chores, more work. Only when she sits down with a word puzzle to unwind does she face the elephant in the room: she hasn’t given Sasuke an answer because she can’t give one to herself. 

In one version of reality, she might already be with Sasuke. They would cook dinner together, feed the cat. They might visit Itachi and Kakashi-sensei, or her parents. They would go home, make love, sleep together, and wake under the same sheets. She is missing out on that and it drives her crazy. But if she says yes, she’ll be agreeing to a rational choice, for both of them, and not the ineffable strike of love.

Does it really matter?

It does.

It doesn’t.

If only Sasuke had lied. He could have kept that straight face of his and said, “I love you, be my girlfriend,” and everything would have been simple. She would have believed him. He would have had what he wanted.

Her head spins.

After two hours of failing to sleep, she goes to the bathroom, splashes water on her face, and studies her reflection. Dark circles are forming, and her skin looks too pale. She’ll have to take vitamins in the morning to patch things up. She paces. She doesn’t want to face Sasuke yet, but she has a sudden urge to see him. It’s perhaps the fact that she hasn’t seen him in a week, or the idea of him at home, waiting for an answer. It fills her with melancholy.

She gets up, tired of tossing and turning. She changes into simple training clothes and slips out the window to the nearest roof. The moon is full and the sky is clear. The nights have warmed. The cherry trees are probably in bloom now.

She approaches Sasuke’s house from above and settles on a branch overlooking the backyard. A warm, weak light glows behind the living room curtain, though nothing moves inside. Hidden in the canopy, the transgressive nature of her actions make her ears burn. What is she doing?

A low sound, almost a chuckle, nearly makes her jump out of her skin.

“Us ninja really do share the same methods,” a smooth voice says from above, much too close.

She turns toward it. Perched on a nearby branch, crouched with weightless grace, is Uchiha Itachi.

She is about to ask what he is doing there, but he brings a finger to his lips and tilts his gaze downward. She follows his cue in time to see the doors to the backyard slide open and Sasuke step out with Tomato in tow. The cat must have already eaten, judging by its sluggish, contented sway. Sasuke lifts it and settles on the porch with the cat on his lap. He sits there, alone and quiet, looking between the cat and the moon. With that, all her longing surges back. Her impulses tell her to climb down, go to him, quench his thirst for company, whatever the nature of that wish is. Almost imperceptibly, his eye flicks toward their direction. She cannot tell whether he has spotted her, Itachi, or both, but he doesn’t change his posture. After a while, resigned that none of his visitors want to show themselves, he rises and lets Tomato pad inside, then closes the door with a last glance at the moon.

Itachi stands on the branch, and she mirrors him.

“Shall we walk?”

She nods and follows as they leave the Uchiha district for a path skirting the village, passing several training grounds.

Her contact with Itachi began as doctor and patient when he was brought back to the village. Later she started seeing him more as a comrade, as Sasuke’s brother and as Kakashi-sensei’s loving husband. Yet she’s never quite shaken the feeling that beneath the gentleness lay a dormant sliver of madness.

In the moonlight, his face is painfully familiar. Sasuke has the same angles, the same skin, but Itachi looks older, more worn, more knowing.

"I take it you haven't decided."

His familiarity with her situation doesn’t surprise her. "Sasuke told me what happened," he explains.

"No, I haven’t,” she answers.

"It's a difficult choice."

"What would you do in my place?"

As they walk, only their footsteps sound on the path.

"I'm hardly impartial," he says. “I love Sasuke since he was born, more than I love myself. You shouldn't be held to that standard."

"Why not?"

"Our situations are different. My love for him is still tinged with guilt."

"He's forgiven you. You've made amends."

"Yet here we are. The damage I caused is still evident."

"You feel responsible for what's happening between Sasuke and me?"

"I do," Itachi admits, eyes downcast.

After the truth about Itachi's mission and the chain of events that led to the massacre came to light, Sasuke and Itachi began a slow and painstaking road towards healing and reconciliation. Sakura witnessed it, though as an outsider. What emerged from that process was a seemingly unshakable bond. It pains her that some of that guilt still lingers, but tonight she doesn't want to support or soothe. She wants to understand.

"Sasuke said you told him what it felt like to be in love. What did you say?" Sakura asks.

He stops and meets her eyes. “I told him that Kakashi was my first love. I had never even considered that to be a possibility for someone like me. When it happened, it felt like redemption, like being wrapped in warmth after lying naked on cold stone for a lifetime. We were both deeply broken, but as we came closer, it felt as if parts of us slowly mended and we could make each other whole again.”

The words - romanting and sad - send a shiver through her.

“In any case, I now realize it was a mistake to say these things.”

“Why?”

“Because it isn’t necessarily the best model for someone seeking a relationship.”

Sakura frowns. “What is the best model then?”

He looks up. The moom makes his eyes look like liquid glass. “The one I stole from him. Our parents. The kind of love that lives in the everyday, in small acts of care, in perseverance and patience, in the nurturing of a family and the steady support of each other.”

As she’d expected, his reasoning is persuasive, but there is a gap she cannot ignore.

“You have them both, though,” she says. “Both kinds of love, the romance and the everyday.”

“I do,” he admits.

They are nearing the village gate, and the path has turned from dirt to cobblestone, though the only light still comes from the full moon overhead. For a moment it seems the conversation has ended, but something still nags at her.

“If you think what Sasuke feels for me is enough for me to bind my life to his, how does it compare to what he feels for you?”

He seems taken aback.

“Sakura, we’re brothers.”

To an outsider, that might be enough, but Sakura knows better than to take that dismissal at face value.

“He worships you. His warmest smiles are for you. He cares for your daughter as if she were his own. He has killed for you. How am I supposed to be with a man who would move mountains for his brother but wants me only for companionship?”

The hurt on her face makes him lower his gaze and he remains silent for a long moment. “I’m making it worse,” he says at last. “I only wanted to ask you to give Sasuke a chance.”

“Why?” she presses.

“Because you make him happy.”

“How about me? Do I deserve to be happy?”

He looks up, and there is no artifice in his voice. “You do. And I hope you will be.”

She starts walking again. His answers were both enlightneing and clear as mud. In any case, the conversation has run its course.

“Good night, Itachi.”

“Good night, Sakura.”

She leaves him on the empty forest path and takes to the trees. Sleep will be impossible now, but she still heads home to rest her body.

She goes to work the next day feeling only half alive, but she soldiers through. She naps at her desk instead of eating, and after the daily meeting with Naruto and Sai she heads out on her own. She considers stopping by Ino’s, but seeing a happily married friend will not help. She walks aimlessly until she finds herself at her parents’ doorstep. Her father is usually still at work at this hour, so she might find her mother alone for a change.

She knocks, lets herself in, and climbs the stairs.

“Tadaima,” she calls into the quiet house.

A rustle, then her mother appears with a curious look.

“Sakura?”

“Hi.”

Sakura never stopped visiting after moving out, but she usually comes at pre-arranged times, so her mother must be guessing by now that something is amiss.

“Is everything alright?” Her mother studies her face, that clinical eye taking in the details. “You didn’t sleep.”

“I’m fine,” Sakura grumbles halfheartedly.

Mebuki guides Sakura to the dining table and pushes a plate of grapes toward her.

Sakura plucks one and pops it into her mouth. Only now does she feel how hungry she is from skipping lunch.

“And you haven’t eaten. I’ll reheat some meat.”

Her mother rummages in the fridge and sets a hamburger steak in a pan. The sizzle fills the house with a rich and mouthwatering smell.

“Boy trouble?” her mother presses.

“Hm,” she admits.

“Another doctor?”

Sakura looks up, and recognition flashes across her mother’s face.

“Oh my. It’s the Uchiha boy. Sakura…”

“You never wanted me to chase him,” she says, remembering all the times Mebuki scolded her for paying more attention to Sasuke than her studies. The thing is, the academy was never all that challenging, and Sakura only realized the extent of her complacency when faced with a life or death situation.

“No, I didn’t,” Mebuki says.

“Maybe you were right.”

Her mother frowns. “What did he do?”

Sakura sighs. Mebuki is not the kind of mom who talks openly about sentimental things. Sakura started to admire her practical mind at some point, although it had felt overwhelming during her teens.

However, Itachi’s take on relationship models come back to her, and she feels an urge to ask,

“Did Dad ever confess to you?”

“Confess?”

“You know, saying he loved you…”

“Oh.”

Mebuki seems lost in thought for a moment. “I’m not sure there was such a thing as a confession. We met, we got along, we decided to marry, then we had you.”

“But how do you know he loves you?”

Mebuki frowns. “What is this about, Sakura? You’re making me worry.”

Her mother turns off the heat and plates the meat, adding rice and sauce. Sakura breathes in the comforting smell, then says, “Sasuke. He wants to be with me but is not in love with me, and I don’t know what to do.”

“Eat,” her mother says, and Sakura obeys, letting the protein work its magic.

Her mother sits beside her, watching as Sakura scarfs down the food inelegantly.

“I used to hear your complaints about him rejecting you, but he wants to be with you now. What do you think has changed?” she asks after a while.

“I don’t know. Maybe he’s lonely.”

“That is a common reason to seek a partner.”

“Yeah, but who tells a prospective partner they don’t love you, they just want you for companionship?”

“An honest person?”

“That much is true,” Sakura concedes.

“And you, Sakura? What do you want from him?”

Sakura had been evading that question since New Year’s, until Sasuke forced the conversation to happen. She’d deluded herself with boxes and the illusion that she could have sex and spend time with Sasuke and not love him. So when she finally admits it to herself, the words flow out easily.

“I want to be with him too. I used to chase him for how he looked, but it’s different now. He’s still gorgeous, but he’s also interesting, traveled, kind, funny. We spent time together these past months, and I miss it. I miss the Sasuke who invited me out after work, walked with me, carried my groceries even though I have more arm strength than he does, the Sasuke who has a cat and a niece and cares for both so lovingly it almost breaks my heart.”

“So you want the same as he does,” her mother says, sounding it out.

“It’s different. I love him.”

“Then living with him will not be a hardship, will it?”

“Huh?”

“If you love him and want to be with him, and he wants to be with you, it seems there is no incompatibility.”

She’s baffled that the obvious tragedy of her situation doesn’t seem to impress her mother at all.

“What if it doesn’t feel right? What if there is no romance, I don’t feel loved, and he becomes cold and treats me badly?”

Mebuki looks at her kindly but with a small hint of exasperation.

“Let me put it like this. When you order those dresses with your computer, what do you do if you get one and it doesn’t fit? Do you have to keep it forever and waste your money?”

“I return it.”

Her mother says nothing more. She stands and clears the plate Sakura polished clean.

“So, what, you’re saying I should try him?” Sakura asks, still dazed.

“Well, since you are reluctant to turn him down but not entirely sure the relationship will work, maybe all you need is to have a taste and see what it is like. Or not. Turn him down now and don’t think about it again. There are many fish in the sea, and being the amazing woman you are, you will not lack chances to find a man who fulfills you.”

It is her mother’s speech, but also the food. Together they leave a warm, steady feeling in her stomach. Maybe it is that simple.

She stays quiet while her mother washes the plate and moves about the kitchen. A while later her father comes in, and the conversation shifts entirely. It is a good evening. She is home, and a heavy weight lifts from her back. As she walks to her flat later, she realizes that Itachi’s words and her mother’s were not so different, but the intent was. He pleaded for Sasuke, while her mother stood in her corner. Maybe that was what had been missing all these days. She had been so absorbed by young Sakura’s loss that she did not consider her present self.

To try him out. It’s the last suggestion she’d expected from her mother, and an idea that had never crossed her mind. When she was young, she’d seen her love for Sasuke as a given, and after they reconnected she faced the prospect of falling for him almost with fear. While it seems now clear that falling for him again was an inevitability, she didn’t give herself the chance to really decide if he is the right man for her. And this changes everything.

She gets home and takes a long bath, then gets into bed with her unfinished puzzle. It’s then that she comes up with a resolution. She will wait one more week - arbitrary as the term may be - and, if Sasuke is still waiting for her then, she will give him a chance.

Chapter Text

When two weeks have elapsed since their premature hanami, Sakura heads over to the Uchiha neighborhood. She walks this time, taking her time to enjoy the morning breeze.

The temperature is inviting and there are already quite a few people in the gardens and narrow streets.

Sasuke’s house is still one of the largest in the area, although part of the grounds have been gifted to the village.

Sakura approaches the front door and rings the bell, her stomach taken over by a swarm of butterflies.

She waits a few minutes.

And nothing happens.

She rings again, and still no one comes.

Well.

It was an arbitrary deadline. An attempt to let fate decide for her. And so it did.

Disappointed yet resigned, she turns on her heel and-

and almost crashes into Naruto.

“Wha-?”

“Sakura-chan, I’m glad you’re here.”

“What’s going on?”

Another person appears. A familiar redhead.

“Karin-san?”

Sakura’s skin heats for a second, remembering what Sasuke had told her about his first time. She schools herself. It’s not the time to think of that. If ever.

“We should go back to the tower,” Naruto says, adopting a business-like tone.

They find Sai and Shikamaru already there.

“Karin-san, go ahead.”

The woman stepts forward, holding her own before the group.

“I ran into Sasuke at Sora-ku two days ago. When we were heading out of Nekobaa’s den, we came accross some people trying to go in to buy ninja tools. From their appearance they were desert people, not shinobi. They were roudy and forceful so Sasuke thought he’d hang around to make sure they didn’t cause any trouble. Then when they came out he went after them. He told me if he didn’t come back by yesterday night to let Naruto know.”

“Sai,” Naruto calls.

“We just received this by hawk.”

Sakura opens the tiny scroll.

“These are coordinates,” she says.

“Yes. We checked the map. It’s in the middle of the desert,” Sai reports.

“Karin-san, can you also show us the flier?” Naruto asks.

Karin takes a folded leaflet from her pouch and hands it to Sakura. “One of the men dropped this when they left. I think it was deliberate.”

“Royal Liberation Movement?” Sakura reads. “They are recruiting people to attack Suna. Why did Sasuke go after them? The Kazekage should deal with it.”

“We’ve warned Gaara,” Naruto says. “But if I were to hazard a guess, I’d say Sasuke wanted to stop them before it went too far.”

“We need to go to the location to look for him.” Naruto reasons. “Sai, Sakura, can you be the advance team?”

They both nod. They have worked together often during their Team 7 days. It doesn’t take them long to stock up and pack for the trip. They then meet at the top of the tower, Sai draws a bird and off they go.

The coordinates bring them to an area of rock formations in the desert. The reddish stones emerge from the sands vertically, almost like man-made walls, in a pattern that resembles a city.

As they can’t find any sign of activity from the sky, they land and start scouting the area. Sai sends some ink snakes to scatter around the area, and Sakura walks amid the rocks, paying attention to any standout details. They are looking for signs that Sasuke was here, tracks or some kind of cave entrance.

“Sakura-san!” Sai calls after a while. “Come see this.”

Next to Sai there’s a gap in the rock. When they shine a flashlight inside there’s a narrow tunnel, enough for an animal or a person on the smaller side to crawl in.

“I’ll go in,” she says.

Sai nods. His height would make it difficult to go with her and besides, he’s a father-to-be. If someone should risk it, Sakura is a better choice.

“Wait, let me send a snake first.”

“Sure.”

They wait until the ink blob slips inside and slithers through the tunnel. Sai closes his eyes trying to track its progress. For a few long moments nothing happens. Then he opens his eyes abruptly.

“There’s someone there. Injured. Very thin chakra signature.”

“Sasuke?”

“It might be.”

“Is there another exit?” she asks. “Other chakra signatures?”

He stays silent for another period of time.

“There’s a large cave, but no other exit.”

This is starting to look a lot like a trap, but there’s a person trapped inside - a person who might be Sasuke - so she doesn’t really have a choice.

“Alright, I’m going in. Inform Naruto of what we found.”

“Copy,” Sai says.

She crawls in the dark for what feels like a long time. The tunnel has a downward incline that becomes sharper as she goes. The last stretch is almost vertical. When she gets to the end she falls onto a chamber carved in the rock. It’s humid and cold inside.

“Sasuke-kun?”

She hears a muffled sound in return. When she turns on the flashlight she sees that they are indeed inside a cave, but it’s different from the last time they faced this rebel group. There’s no furnace or signs of human activity, except for two large stone tombs. A burial chamber?

She approaches the twin stone chests, and lying between them is Sasuke, sprawled on the floor.

“Sakura—“

His voice is rough and she realizes with horror that there’s a gash on his flank. She’s about to heal him when his hand grabs her wrist.

“Don’t. This place absorbs chakra. It’s a trap.”

“Of course,” she sighs.

She pulls out first aid supplies instead and starts cleaning the wound.

“Is there another entrance?” she asks.

“Hm. Three o’clock. Stone wall.”

“Right.”

She spots a patch of wall with a different shade. Probably put there from the outside using ninjutsu.

“I’ll blow the wall,” she says.

She will have to rely on her natural chakra reserves to break the wall and once outside she will release the byakugou seal to keep going. The tricky part is that they don’t know the range of the chakra absorbing stone. If it extends through the whole cave they will be in trouble.

She applies ointment to the wound and binds it with bandages. It’s not enough though. He needs to receive chakra healing as soon as possible.

“How did you get trapped here?” she asks. “Couldn’t you use the rinnegan to escape?”

“I followed some people to the desert. There were others waiting for me. I got stabbed and fell in here before I could swap with anything outside, then I tried to use lightning to break the wall but the cave pulled all my chakra out of me.”

“They ought to be waiting for us on the other side then.”

“Hm,” he agrees.

“Let’s go.”

She carries him to the wall and lays him down at a safe distance. She puts on her gloves and focuses on the target. She only has one blow, so she will have to focus all her chakra on it, even if she can only poke a small hole through the rock.

Here it goes.

“Shaaa!” she screams as she punches the rock wall.

The wall falls apart. An easy escape. Intentional or just low grade skills? A rain of kunai comes shooting at them.

She sees Sasuke trying to stumble towards her while throwing kunai with impressive precision given his condition. With his cover she is able to reach him and support his weight.

As expected, the cave drained all her chakra in just one blow. They take cover outside the burial chamber and she starts releasing the byakugou seal. There’s still a slight pull from the inside, like the rock is trying to reach to her and feed on the pool of chakra that she just unlocked, but as they move away, it gets weaker and weaker. So they keep going like that - Sakura supporting Sasuke's weight, and Sasuke providing cover with shuriken and kunai. When her seal is fully released, she starts healing him as they move. 

Gradually, the cave fills more and more with people. Some are less than half-baked fighters, probably holding a weapon for the first time. Others seem more seasoned. It gets harder to fend them off while supporting Sasuke, who is quickly running out of projectiles to throw.

“Let me go. I can stand.”

“The wound isn’t fully healed.”

“I can manage,” he urges.

She steels herself and lets him go. He wobbles but regains control immediately. They stand back to back, and fight.

It’s been ages since they worked as a duo and at some point she starts feeling less desperate and more exhilarated. They mainly use taijutsu, since Sasuke’s chakra isn’t back yet and they ran out of weapons. She can’t use her chakra-assisted blows either, as that might collapse the cave and kill everyone inside. This makes their progression slow and painstaking, but they are encouraged by the light spot at the end, that gets wider as they move.

And so they come upon thier last two adversaries: two bulky men, dressed in similar fashion to the ones they had previously arrested. Both are strong earth-style users, which makes it difficult to capture them without trapping themselves in the cave. The impasse is broken when wind starts rising in the cave and suddenly the two men are encased in twin sand cocoons.

They stop, standing side by side and watch as Gaara enters the cave, followed by Kankurou.

“Kazekage,” Sasuke greets, and Sakura bows.

“Sakura-san, Sasuke-san, I’m glad to see you well.”

“Were you able to stop the plot against Sunagakure?” Sakura asks.

“Yes.”

The sand sarcophagi are replaced by physical restraints by a team of Suna shinobi. The two men struggle but are eventually dragged out. When they reach the exit, Naruto and Sai are waiting for them.

“Sasuke, send a hawk to your brother. We barely managed to keep those two at home,” Naruto says.

Sasuke gets to it immediately, while they hear the report from Suna. There was indeed an uprising, as the masterminds were more successful here at recruiting civilians.

“I received your report about the thunder train and we started an investigation but it was too little, too late,” says Gaara. “Our land is inospitable and life is difficult for most. We were negligent after the war and did not make sure that all affairs were handled fairly. We have initiated talks with the civilian representatives, which I will have to rejoin shortly.”

“What about this cave?” Sakura asks. “There’s a chakra-draining chamber with two tombs.”

“That’s the burial chamber of the last king and queen who ruled these lands before the shinobi village system was created. The location seems to have been chosen exactly for the properties of the rock, to keep tomb robbers at bay. The organization behind this found the place and rallied people behind the idea that the heyday of the monarchy could be restored. They intended to crown a child who’s a distant descendant of the royal family. The child is now in our care and the cave will be sealed.”

“Seems that you have it under control,” Naruto beams.

They all say their goodbyes as Gaara rushes back to his crisis meetings with Kankurou, and another Suna team brings them to the nearest train station. The mission ended anticlimactically but it is preferable this way. In the coming weeks they will have further updates from Suna and will possibly have to follow up with local civilian organizations as well.

“Let me check you again,” Sakura says to Sasuke as they settle in the train back to Konoha.

Naruto is sitting with Sai a few rows away, to give them some privacy, she suspects.

He gingerly shifts sideways and lifts his shirt. There’s some blood on the bandage, which means the wound is still open. She undoes the bandages and checks the wound, which confirms her worries.

“I’ll do a bit more healing. It might still bleed otherwise.”

He nods, and she gets to it. Now that the adrenaline has abated, the feeling of being close to him again starts fluttering in her chest. He can probably feel that through her chakra, which she is pouring into him. So much for acting cool.

“Thank you, Sakura.” he says in a smooth voice. If he’s upset at her for ghosting him, he’s not letting it through.

“It was stupid to go out on your own, even for someone like you,” she scolds.

“I’m sorry.”

“What were you doing in Sora-ku anyway?”

It might be a trick of her imagination, but she thinks his cheeks grow a bit pink. “I went to order something from Nekobaa.”

“Why? You can get any tools you need from the warehouse.”

“This item cannot be found in Konoha.”

This answer seems to be all that she’s getting, so she lets it go.

“Can I come to your place later? I want to talk to you.”

“Yes,” he replies. In his gaze she finds the slightest hint of uncertainty.

“Ok.”

The landscape slowly shifts from arid to grassland and then to forest as they enter the Land of Fire. Sakura stops the healing when it is apparent that the wound can close on its own and re-seals her chakra in the byakugou. They both turn their attention to the outside, but she catches Sasuke looking her way a few times. She thinks of her random moratorium and wonders if what happened counts as a pass or a fail. She had promised herself to give him a try if he waited for her. He left the village, but it was for a valuable reason. So, perhaps she can give him that chance anyway.

Chapter Text

For the second time that day, Sakura makes her way to Sasuke’s place. She hopes no sudden mission will pull her away this time because she’s taken the effort to fix her hair and put on a dress. If she’s going to have this conversation, she might as well look her best.

She rings the bell, and this time, Sasuke answers within seconds.

“Sakura, come in.”

His no-nonsense tone is the same as always, but she notices the slight tremor in his fingers as he steps aside to let her in.

He leads her to the porch overlooking the garden, where a lantern glows softly and cushions are arranged neatly. As they are about to take their places, Tomato hops onto one and makes himself comfortable.

“Expecting someone?” she asks, glancing at the setup.

“You,” he replies, rolling his eyes.

She suppresses the urge to laugh and seats herself on one of the remaining cushions. Her feet rest on the cool grass below, while Sasuke perches on the edge of the wooden deck, his hand instinctively finding its way to Tomato’s back. The black cat purrs contentedly.

For someone who so firmly declared himself unfit for romance, Sasuke did a nice job setting the scene for their encounter.

“I have an answer for you,” she says, her tone steady.

He turns his full attention to her, waiting.

“I want to give you a try,” she begins.

“A try?” he repeats.

“Yes. My mother suggested it, actually. She compared you to a mail-order dress.”

His frown draws out a small laugh from her, this time unrestrained. She’s missed him more than she realized.

“So, you want to test me?” he asks cautiously.

“Not exactly. I just want to be with you for a while without fully committing. I want to see how we are together, how it feels to be with you in more ways than one.”

“We’ve already been together in more ways than one,” he points out.

“That’s true,” she admits. “But I didn’t see it that way at the time. And I didn’t know about your… perspective on it.”

He looks away. “You didn’t know that part of me is broken.”

Even with his head angled away, she can’t help being caught in the odd beauty of his eyes, glistening under the moonlight. If she looks back, it’s always been like this. His beauty, even as a boy, always smoothed things over, even when he was being rude or dismissive. That’s why, for a long time, she thought herself cured of her infatuation. She’d grown into her own self and rejected being a doormat for anyone. She can’t allow that resolve to change, but maybe there’s a middleground to be found, and it begins with honesty.

“I won’t lie. It bothers me,” she admits. “When we were just sleeping together I could tell myself not to have any expectations, that it would eventually run its course. But you are asking me to be with you, to make this permanent, and in my mind, I always envisioned that happening because of love. It’s difficult to accept it for a different reason. I find myself thinking whether I’ll be living a lie or a reality that is not fulfilling. I am sorry to say it this way, but it’s how I feel.”

“I understand,” he tells her, still not looking at her.

“But,” she continues, “I’ve also seen you change over the past months. You’re no longer closed off or running away. I can tell you’re searching for something and, in some way, you think I can be part of it. It makes me happy, but also conflicted. That’s why I want to give it a chance, but I can’t promise I’ll see it through. I understand if you can’t accept this condition, or you decide to ask someone else instead.”

“Sakura…” His voice cracks and he turns back to her, his gaze gentle.

She brushes her fingers through a lock of his hair. If he refuses the deal, then this will be the last time she gets to be so near him, to touch him at will. He lets her linger there until she retracts her hand and lays it back on her lap.

“I don’t intend to ask anyone else, not now, not for a long time.”

His voice is soft and—if she allowed herself—almost loving. But self-deception isn’t on tonight’s agenda. Instead, she presses,

“Does this have anything to do with having children and restoring the Uchiha clan?” 

As the eldest brother, the weight of restoring the Uchiha clan should have fallen to Itachi. But he has taken a male partner and joined his name with another family’s. His child is not of Uchiha blood, leaving Sasuke to shoulder the burden of continuing their bloodline.

Sasuke exhales deeply, signaling that he’d expected the question.

“I do wish to have children," he says. "About the Uchiha clan… it’s not a matter of maintaining the bloodline or passing down the sharingan. The clan, for me, is the memory of my mother, my father, the cousins who watched me and the neighbours I grew up with. I can still see their faces sometimes, though it’s getting harder to remember. It’s my brother, who’s  been by my side all these years, against all odds. Maybe we deserve to be the last of the Uchiha, but I also hope… I wish for a different legacy, a different clan.”

It’s the most Sasuke has spoken since she came here today, and with these words, she can begin to understand his motivations, which is bittersweet, because her role in this becomes clearer.

“I understand.” She can’t hide the ache in her chest. 

“Sakura…” he calls again, his voice barely a whisper.

“Do you remember Haku and Zabuza?” she asks, as the memory of Haku’s words suddenly comes to her mind. 

“That feels like another lifetime,” he says. “But yes, I remember.”

“Are we really all that different from them? Aren’t we all tools in someone else’s hands after all?”

“No.” His hand seizes her arm, an urgency in his voice. As he regains control of himself, he lets go. “I’d never treat you as a means to an end.”

“Then why me?”

His eyebrows draw up, trying to express something and struggling to find the words. “Because I-“ he breathes. “I like the time we spend together. I admire you. I respect you. I know it’s not enough for you, but if you do give me this trial you talked about, I’ll try my best to be good to you.”

The way the words seem to rip through his chest is strangely revealing. Sasuke never pleads. He demands and he gets what he wants. This is an entirely new side of him.

To relieve someone’s loneliness, to help them get back a long lost family - at that moment, those things feel infinitely more romantic than grand gestures and flowery confessions. 

“I believe you,” she says.

His eyes widen, a glassy film washing over them before dissolving into a single tear.

“Thank you,” he replies.

She leans forward; he follows instinctively until their foreheads touch. She strokes his hair again, and he rests a hand on her knee.

“How do you feel about a non-romantic kiss right now?”

He nods. The angle shifts, and their lips meet in a soft, tentative touch.

He doesn’t quite kiss back, but the way he stays perfectly still is sweet in its own way.

When she pulls away, his eyes are somber, and he shakes his head.

“It’s okay,” she reassures him. “I didn’t expect anything to change.”

“Did you like it?” he asks quietly.

“I did,” she says without hesitation.

“Do it again.”

“You don’t have to force yourself,” she says, offering a small, reassuring smile.

“Do it,” he insists, firmer.

“Okay…”

She leans in again, placing a hand on his chest as her lips catch his lower lip. This time, she dares to flick her tongue lightly, and he parts his mouth, allowing her to deepen the kiss. Slowly, his body begins to move, pressing into hers as they tip back against the wooden porch.

He settles over her, his hands grazing her sides in a way that feels familiar. There’s never been a lack of passion between them, but that’s not what this moment is about.

She turns her head, easing away. He exhales sharply, schools himself, and shifts back to give her space.

“Sorry. I got carried away,” he murmurs.

“Don’t be,” she says softly. “I’m glad this part works.”

“You’ll never have to worry about that,” he says, and there’s a sultry quality to his voice that wasn’t there before. It makes her let go of the tension of their negotiation and think of certain implications of what they just discussed…

“Just so you know,” she coughs lightly, “I’m not opposed to having kids with you.”

Heat rises to her cheeks; a tingle flutters low in her stomach. He notices, lashes lowering as he leans closer.

“Yeah?” he murmurs, breath warm at her ear.

“Yeah,” she manages, her voice unsteady.

“But not just yet,” she adds quickly.

“After the trial?” he asks.

She nods, their eyes still locked.

“And in the meantime,” he says, voice dipping lower, “would you be opposed to non-reproductive… you know…?”

The spell shatters as she bursts into laughter.

“Uchiha Sasuke!” she scolds, nearly choking on it.

“Just checking,” he says, the corner of his mouth quirking in a rare, playful smirk.

She swats his leg lightly, and he winces in mock offense. Their gazes hold, and despite the theatrics, neither of them can stop smiling.

Maybe this thing between them will turn out to be a very bad idea. For now, though, she's starting to look forward to what is to come.

Chapter Text

The summer solstice is another Uchiha-Hatake tradition that lives on. Like New Year, it had originally been devised as a way to lure Sasuke back to Konoha, at least twice a year. Now that he’s here more permanently, these moments have evolved into family celebrations.

It’s still a bit strange for Sakura to attend these events—not as a former Team 7 member, but as Sasuke’s plus one. Especially since the last time she met Itachi, their conversation had ended abruptly.

“Don’t worry about my brother,” Sasuke had said a few days ago, his tone dry as ever. “He’s a reformed criminal, just like me.” She’d laughed at that, but the unease lingered.

It’s a warm afternoon, and she’s wearing a flowery silk skirt that grazes mid-thigh. When they meet at the village gates, she catches the brief, appreciative sweep of Sasuke’s gaze. He’s brought a bag of sweets from town; Sakura cradles a box of cherries that cost her a small fortune.

They stroll under the trees, unhurried. Not for the first time, Sakura wonders if it would be too forward to slip her hand into his. She decides against it. They have an agreement: Sasuke will do his best to be a good partner, and Sakura won’t try to mold him into one-sided romantic fantasies.

When they arrive at the Hatake estate and step into the garden, Tomoko dashes straight toward Sasuke.

“Uncle Sasuke!”

Sasuke barely has time to hand Sakura the bags of sweets before Tomoko barrels into his arms. There’s a gleeful squeal as he lifts her and spins her around.

Noticing the commotion, Itachi approaches with a soft smile.

“Sakura-san, thank you for coming,” he says, bowing politely.

Sakura bows back, though her movements are a bit stiff.

“Can I get you something to drink? We have iced green tea and fresh apple juice.”

“Apple juice,” she replies, and Itachi excuses himself. He returns moments later with a glass of juice for her and a cup of tea for Sasuke.

By then, Tomoko is back on the ground, giggling as Sasuke accepts his drink with a quiet, “Thanks, nii-san.”

It fills Itachi with unmistakable joy, and Sakura decides she can never begrudge them a love that survived so much tragedy—nor hold his failed attempt to vouch for Sasuke against him.

They’re soon swept into the small crowd gathered for the celebration. Sasuke, true to habit, breaks away whenever he can and spends most of his time entertaining his niece. Dinner is served on camping tables outside, with Kakashi-sensei lighting lanterns and stringing fairy lights overhead. Sakura hadn’t realized before how magical these celebrations could be.

“Look! Fireflies!” Tomoko shouts, her voice bright with wonder.

Though there are no other children her age present, Mirai-chan is still willing to play along. The two run hand in hand to the edge of the garden, where they can watch the swarm of glowing insects more closely.

The longest day of the year ends with Tomoko napping on the porch alongside the family’s white cat, Dango. The adults, meanwhile, share drinks under the moonlight.

Under Kakashi’s dubious influence, Sakura and Sasuke move from juice and tea to plum wine and sake. By the time they leave, both are tipsy.

They walk back to the village well past midnight. The moonlight filters through the trees, illuminating the familiar forest path. According to legends from faraway lands this is the night when spirits and magical creatures emerge to celebrate alongside humans.

She imagines these forest spirits hopping alongside them, invisible yet gleeful. Would they know what Sakura and Sasuke are to each other, just by crossing paths? Maybe they’d enchant Sasuke, make him finally see her as his everlasting love.

The thought makes her giggle, drunk and silly.

“What’s so funny?” Sasuke asks, glancing at her.

“I was just wondering what it feels like to be bewitched,” she replies, her tone playful.

He shrugs, his eyes fixed on the path ahead.

A mischievous spark lights inside her. Maybe she is possessed by a naughty forest spirit. Without giving it much thought, she plucks his old genin headband from his belt, surprising him.

“Sasuke-kun,” she coos, her voice teasing. “Catch me!”

And with that, she leaps into the trees.

For a moment, she’s afraid he won’t take the bait. But then she senses him following, his chakra closing the gap between them. She slows down deliberately, waiting for him to almost grab her before pivoting midair and darting in a different direction. She sticks her tongue out at him before disappearing deeper into the woods.

“You’re turning into Kakashi!” he shouts after her.

Her laughter rings out, bright and unrestrained, like chimes blending with the cicadas.

The chase continues, hare-brained and exhilarating. She’s agile, but Sasuke is fast. If he wanted to, he could catch her easily, but it seems he’s enjoying the pursuit. Her skirt flutters with each leap, leaving little to the imagination. Twigs scrape at her bare legs, but the thrill of being hunted outweighs everything else.

Finally, as her energy wanes, Sasuke catches her. But instead of grabbing the headband, he wraps his arms around her and presses her against the rough bark of a tree.

“Caught you,” he murmurs in her ear.

She’s breathless from the chase, her body slick with a sheen of sweat.

His arms slide down her body, one hand gripping her thigh, the other pushing up her skirt.

“Will you give me my headband?” he asks, his voice low.

“No,” she replies, her voice defiant.

“What if I make you?”

A shiver runs through her. The alcohol is still in her veins, loosening her inhibitions.

“Make me, then, Sasuke-kun.”

His teeth graze her neck, and she gasps as sparks shoot through her body. Her grip tightens on the headband even as Sasuke maneuvers her arms to brace against the tree. His lips trail down her neck, slow and teasing, almost maddeningly so.

His hands wander, unfastening her blouse and cupping her breasts through her lacy bra.

“Do you yield?”

“No,” she whispers, her voice trembling.

He doesn’t stop. One hand slips beneath her skirt and into her panties, his touch rough enough to make her cry out softly. His fingers dip inside her, and her knees almost buckle.

“Shh,” he whispers, his voice dark and full of promise. “You don’t want anyone to see this, do you?”

He pulls her from the tree and lays her down on the soft grass. The moonlight bathes them, and she feels exposed, vulnerable, but exhilarated.

Sasuke takes the headband from her hands and ties it around her wrists.

“Sasuke-kun?” she murmurs, her voice unsteady.

He kneels between her thighs, coaxing them apart. His hand trails up her stomach to her chest, brushing against her bra.

“Sakura, do you want to stop?” he asks, his voice softer now. “Say the word, and I’ll stop.”

It’s his question—his care—that undoes her. She knows she can trust him completely, even now.

“I think you can take your revenge,” she whispers. “Now that you’ve caught me.”

His smirk is wicked, but his touch is tender. “Well, don’t mind if I do.”

He pulls her panties down, and she winces slightly at how damp they are. The mortification is fleeting, though, because Sasuke seems to take it as a point of pride. His smirk deepens as he tosses the ruined fabric aside.

Getting on birth control had been a wise decision, because there’s no hesitation when Sasuke pulls down his trousers with a rare gracelessness, positioning himself between her thighs.

When he sinks into her, it’s bliss. The cool grass beneath her shoulders, the faint press of the headband’s metal against her wrists, the way Sasuke fills her. It all feels electric. The urgency of it is what makes it so thrilling. This is a transgression, a moment stolen under the moonlight, and the thrill of it reverberates through her with every sharp wave of pleasure.

Sasuke’s face is unguarded, and his hands roam her body, gripping her thighs, her hips, as though he can’t get enough of her. His pace is quick, almost desperate, and she loves the way his control frays around the edges.

When he comes, it’s with a muffled groan, his forehead dropping to her chest as he catches his breath.

The silence that follows feels sacred. For a moment, neither of them moves.  With deft fingers, she unties the headband and brings her hands to Sasuke’s hair. Her fingers then trail along the bridge of his nose and the line of his jaw, marveling at how soft and human he looks in this moment.

Sasuke shifts, pulling himself upright and tucking himself back into his trousers. He offers her his hand, helping her sit up. 

“I’m sorry for taking it,” she says, holding out the headband.

Sasuke’s eyes soften as he shakes his head. “No harm done.” He takes it from her and ties it back around his belt.

He bends to pick up her torn panties, inspecting the damage with a raised brow.

“How attached were you to these?” he asks, holding them up.

She snorts, her cheeks flushing. “Not very.”

With a small fireball, he incinerates the evidence of their dalliance. The sight makes her laugh.

They walk back to the Uchiha compound. Without the excitement of the chase, the walk back is tiring and when they finally see the bed, they collapse onto it face-first, exhaustion overtaking them. 

The next morning, Naruto quirks an eyebrow as Sasuke stifles yet another yawn during their meeting with the representatives of village’s artisans. Sakura, sitting beside him, discreetly transfers a small stream of chakra to his hand beneath the table.

The meeting has been uneventful so far, with routine matters discussed at length, until one of the delegates steers the conversation toward the Hokage council system.

“This is a ninja village, we understand that,” the man begins, his voice measured. “But we’ve served Konoha through our trade as much as anyone else. It’s only fair that civil society is represented in the government as well.”

“What do you have in mind?” Naruto asks, leaning forward.

The man straightens, emboldened. “An extended council with civil members.”

The room stirs, a hum of side discussions breaking out around the table.

Another delegate, a shoe factory owner if Sakura recalls correctly, pipes up. “And while we’re at it, the shinobi members—except for the Hokage, of course—should rotate. That way, no single family can monopolize power through… questionable means.”

His words are pointed, and his disdainful glance in Sasuke’s direction leaves no room for doubt about who he’s referring to.

Sakura feels Sasuke stiffen beside her, though his expression remains unreadable.

“There’s no such thing happening here,” Naruto says firmly, his voice cutting through the murmurs. “These proposals will require further discussion. For now, we’ll move on to the next matter.”

The shoe factory owner scoffs, but doesn’t push further, clearly aware of the power dynamic in the room. Still, his point lingers. The imbalance of power between shinobi and civilians has always been a thorny issue, and how far it should be adjusted is no easy question.

When the meeting finally ends, the three of them retreat to Naruto’s office, flopping onto the sofa in unison, Naruto in the middle.

“It was a mistake to give me this position,” Sasuke says flatly, running a hand through his hair. “I’ll resign voluntarily. You can replace me with Shikamaru or someone else.”

“That doesn’t solve anything,” Naruto huffs, crossing his arms.

“Don’t be naïve,” Sasuke retorts. “This isn’t coming from civilians alone. None of the other clans are happy about an Uchiha and a commoner holding positions that were traditionally theirs.”

“The Uchiha and the commoner also happen to be the strongest shinobi this village has,” Naruto says, his tone sharper now.

Sakura interjects, her voice calm but thoughtful. “Maybe we can agree to some form of rotation. As long as the criteria for holding a position are clearly defined, I don’t see an issue.”

Sasuke nods. “I’d support that.”

Naruto sighs, leaning back against the sofa. “I’m gonna miss spending time with you two.”

“What’s that supposed to mean, usuratonkachi?” Sasuke scoffs, though there’s a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

Naruto grins. “I mean, we’ve been working together like old times. It’s been nice.”

Sakura smiles warmly. “It has. And we’ll miss it too, but we’ll still be here. You can see us anytime you want outside of work—provided you don’t slack on your paperwork!”

Naruto giggles, and even Sasuke snickers softly. It feels nostalgic. Working together to help Naruto learn the ropes of leadership had been a throwback to their early years, a reminder of what made their team so special. Now, though, Naruto is ready to stand on his own, and Sakura thinks he will be wise enough to not fall victim to clan politics.

“If you ever doubt yourself, you can always come talk to us,” Sasuke says, his voice quiet but sincere.

Naruto glances at him, warmth blooming in his chest.

“Same here,” Sakura adds. “Besides, Tsunade-sama has been hinting that she wants me back at the hospital, so this might actually be a win-win situation.”

“You guys!” Naruto exclaims, suddenly throwing his arms around both of them in a bear hug.

Sasuke is suspiciously quiet as he and Sakura make their way toward the Uchiha compound later that afternoon.

“Are you alright?” she asks, tentative.

He doesn’t answer at first, and just as she’s about to let it go, he stops and exhales.

“I’m a genin,” he says, as if that explains everything.

She blinks. “I’m sure you could be promoted fast enough,” she offers.

“I know.” He shakes his head. “I don’t even mind taking the chūnin exams or whatever, but…”

They’ve reached the park that borders the Uchiha district, and Sakura gently steers him to a stone bench beneath a tree.

“No one would think less of you,” she says softly.

“Some people might,” he admits. “But that’s not really what it’s about.”

She stays quiet, giving him space.

“Itachi basically retired,” he says after a moment. “I know he and Kakashi still train, but they only step in when it’s absolutely necessary. The thing is, ever since he left the village, Itachi never stopped working for the safety of everyone here. I didn’t. I left because I wanted to kill him… ”

“But you would like to settle down like they did…?” she ventures.

He sighs. “When I first started traveling, it was because I couldn’t forgive the village for what happened to our family. But then slowly it changed. I took it upon myself to protect the village from the outside. For some time I thought that would be my fate, that I’d do it my whole life…”

Her blood goes cold. The thought of Sasuke vanishing again sends her into a quiet panic she keeps carefully masked.

“…Then they adopted Tomoko and asked me to help. I stayed. I got… attached.”

He turns his head, hiding the expression on his face.

Sakura feels his dilemma in her bones, but she also feels the loss his departure would mean for her. Is it really so selfish to want him to stay?

He looks up and catches her gaze. “You don’t want me to go.”

She bites her lip. Can she ask him not to? 

The village. 

Their home.

They’ve protected it since they were children. Sasuke wants a family, a home, a life. She won’t let guilt steal that from him.

She breathes and lets the words come, careful, tentative. “How about teaching?”

“Teaching?” he echoes, dubious but not dismissive.

“Yes. You’d still be here if something major happened and Naruto needed you, but you wouldn’t be on regular missions. You’d be home.”

Sasuke falls quiet, thinking.

“We could talk to Iruka-sensei,” she adds. “I heard they’re getting more academy applications. They might need to open another class. Besides, there’s knowledge only you have. You can help make the next generation stronger, which is also a way of protecting the village.”

His gaze drifts to the jungle gym where children climb and shout. His eyes linger; his expression softens.

“Is it strange that I like being around kids?” he asks quietly. “It… relaxes me. For a little while, all the weight just lifts.”

“It’s not strange,” she says gently. “You’re great with Tomoko-chan. You’d be a good teacher—and a good father one day.”

His fingers twitch on his lap, and he turns fully to her. “I haven’t talked to Iruka since I left the academy. Do you think you could put in a good word for me?”

She giggles, leaning in. “Hm. I think I can.”

Chapter Text

Naruto bursts into hysterical laughter when they float the idea of Sasuke taking the chunin exams. Iruka-sensei tries to placate him with fatherly affection.

"Now, now Naruto, don't be mean to your friend."

It's incredibly endearing. And silly.

"If I don't take the damn exam, there will always be criticism, and that will reflect badly on you, Naruto," Sasuke says tiredly, though not as irritated as one would expect.

"If you take the exam," Naruto says, still snickering, "the other candidates are going to drop out of fear."

"Ridiculous."

Sakura starts looking at the practical side, since none of them seem keen on the idea.

"According to the schedule in the system, the next exams will be in Kumo in three months. The application deadline is... ah! Tomorrow."

"Well, I'll go get the papers from the office." Sasuke stands up, ready to excuse himself.

That's when a familiar figure appears at the window.

"Not so fast, Sasuke."

"Kakashi."

"Lord Sixth." Iruka stands up.

Their sensei smiles, still perched on the windowsill. He's wearing the mask today, along with his full uniform.

"Yo!"

Naruto stands up too and points an accusing finger at Sasuke. "Sensei, please help me knock some sense into this guy!"

"Well, if you don't mind an old timer like me meddling a bit..."

He finally jumps into the room, maintaining his relaxed slouch. Retirement has given him a glow-up, and if anything, he looks fitter now than when he was in active duty.

"Iruka-sensei, how dire is your need for staff? Would perhaps a part-time position be enough for now?"

The older man still seems to nurture some sort of hero worship for Kakashi, because there's a slight stutter in his voice when he says, "We're getting an increasing number of applications from civilians. While we can still maintain the same teaching arrangements, some of the more gifted students are, erm... understimulated."

"I see. Let me have a chat with these three. We'll get back to you."

Understanding the dismissal, Iruka bows and takes his leave.

"Thank you, Rokudaime."

"Well?" Sasuke asks when they're left alone.

"Shall we take a seat?"

Kakashi ushers them all back to the couch and seats himself opposite them on a simple wooden chair.

"So, I hear the village's merchants are giving you a hard time."

"These two are overreacting," Naruto says. "I think we should push back."

"What exactly did they ask for?"

"They want civilians to be represented in decision-making," Sakura says. "But they also want Sasuke and me out of the council..."

"Ah." Kakashi folds his arms and leans back in his chair. "That's an interesting assumption. I take it that's not exactly what was said."

"They want rotation of the shinobi members." Sasuke explains. "It's not unreasonable."

"It's not," Kakashi admits. "I would like you to consider the following, though. Up until Naruto's tenure, Koharu and Homura, who were appointed by the Third Hokage, remained as councilors even after what came to light about the demise of the Uchiha clan, and despite their less than wise advice on certain other matters." He looks pointedly at Sasuke, and Sakura knows he's referring to the terms of Sasuke's release after his fight with Danzo, when the old man blew himself up. "I was able to persuade the Daimyo to approve their long overdue retirement. Don't you find it strange that during their long tenure, no one ever asked for their rotation?"

"So you think we should refuse?" Sakura asks carefully.

"Well, that would be up to you, of course. I'm just a retired Hokage. But I'll give you some more food for thought. Out of the previous six Hokage, three belonged to the Senju clan. Homura, Koharu and Danzo, along with Lord Third, were all disciples of the Second Hokage, Senju Tobirama. They shared Lord Second's skepticism towards the Uchiha, but they also became fixtures in power as the village grew and more clans... and civilian families came under its umbrella."

There's a collective pause as the three of them take in their sensei's patient demeanor.

"So they're trying to win back influence?" Sasuke asks, scowling.

Kakashi sighs. "Before I accepted the Hokage position, I tried to persuade your brother to take it in my stead. He refused. He doubted himself to even be near me during my tenure. He said he was afraid he'd become like Danzo. Konoha has always been ruled like this—with light and shadows—so it's understandable to feel this way. But it's not necessary that things remain the same. Tsunade entrusted me with making change without disrupting peace. Putting the three of you in charge is part of that. If you ask me, of course I don't want you to become the new Danzo, Homura and Koharu. But if you relinquish power too soon, maybe someone else will."

"I wasn't happy with this arrangement you made at first," Naruto says. "I wondered if you didn't trust me to become Hokage for real. But I understand why you did it, and I agree with you, Kakashi-sensei. I have many friends in the village and many people I trust, but there's no one I trust more than these two."

"Mm." Kakashi agrees. "If anything, by being willing to let go of power to become a doctor and a teacher, they proved our point."

Naruto snickers in self-satisfaction.

Sakura ventures a look at Sasuke, whose expression looks... complex. He looks back, almost as though seeking her counsel.

"Well, anyway," Kakashi smiles, "I'm done with my lecture. Now the decision is yours. Gotta go back to my humble farmer's duties."

Still grinning, he hops onto the windowsill and says, “Ah! And about Sasuke’s exam… I suggest you check the records…” And with a final wave he jumps out.

After a moment of baffled pause, Naruto says “to the archive!” And they march down the stairs as though going on a mission.

They find Sasuke’s file easily, the archivist giving them a wide berth, bemused to see the three of them so worked out.

When they open it, it’s like a time machine. There’s Sasuke’s birth certificate and his academy admission results, a report from Iruka-sensei after the Uchiha massacre and his genin promotion certificate. After that the documents grow sparser. There’s a report from Kakashi-sensei detailing the events of the chunin exams and Sasuke’s departure. They don’t read it. It’s all in the past. Finally, they come upon a more recent document bearing the Hokage’s letterhead and red seal. They pick it up and Sakura reads out loud:

For his decisive contribution to the Allied Shinobi Forces’ victory in the Fourth Great Ninja War, as well as subsequent humanitarian work, Uchiha Sasuke is granted the rank of Chunin of the Village Hidden in the Leaves.

Naruto’s face breaks into a wide grin, even as he mock grumbles, “oh man, I can’t believe Kakashi-sensei promoted you and not me. So unfair!”

“You were in the pipeline to Hokage, idiot. What did you want to be a chunin for?”

“Tsunade-sama,” Sakura clarifies, drawing their attention. “It’s signed by the Fifth Hokage, not by Kakashi-sensei.”

“Well, it’s settled then,” Naruto says. “Sakurai-san, can I have some paper?”

The middle aged man takes a sheet of paper out of a tray and presents it to Naruto, who starts writing on it in his usual bold script.

“Sakura-chan, I think I need your endorsement for this.”

Sasuke raises an elegant eyebrow at them and Sakura can’t contain a smile. She adds her signature next to Naruto’s and they press the red seal onto the paper together. She lifts the paper and holds it for Sasuke to read.

“Sasuke-kun, you’ve just been promoted.”

From a legitimacy point of view, it’s important that Sasuke’s chunin promotion was given by Tsunade and not Kakashi, who has a closer relationship with Sasuke. Naruto bumping him to jonin is less critical, as it has been traditionally a discretionary power of the Hokage.

With this they go back to daily affairs, leaving the political issues on the sidelines for now. Sakura notices, though, that something is still bothering Sasuke, but she thinks it’s ill-advised to bring it up. Sasuke will have to decide on his next steps on his own. So, after they complete their daily duties, Sakura leaves the tower on her own. The whole ordeal has left her with an odd feeling. 

The political machinations are disturbing but not unexpected. What surprised her the most was how easily Sasuke yielded to the idea of a quiet life teaching at the academy. There’s so much she is yet to understand, but their trial can’t go on forever.

After walking for a while and buying some groceries, she stops on a street bench, more out of a need to settle her thoughts than real tiredness.

"Hey, forehead!" she hears after a while.

"Ino?"

Her friend is standing before her, hair up in a messy bun, a fan waving in front of her flushed face.

"Are you okay?"

"Ugh, I'm thirty-five weeks along and it's hot."

She says the last word like it's a personal offense.

Sakura has been avoiding Ino since the failed hanami, and now she finds herself feeling a bit bad about that. So she offers an olive branch.

"Well, shall we go for shaved ice then? My treat."

"Now we're talking," Ino grins.

They settle at a quiet corner of the dessert shop and each get a bowl of flavored ice.

"Are you sure this isn't going to give me gestational diabetes?"

"I don't know. How many of these have you had lately?"

"Er, none?"

"You should be fine." Sakura waves off her friend's concern. "So, are you looking forward to it?"

For a while, they talk babies and the conversation flows happily. Then Ino gives her a look, and Sakura knows she has to spill it—at least some part of it anyway.

"So, you and Sasuke..."

"Yeah," Sakura says laconically.

"You two have been attached at the hip. Does that mean what I think it means?"

Sakura stays quiet for a moment and Ino raises an eyebrow. "It... doesn't?"

"It's... complicated?"

Ino sighs. "Okay, spill it."

She settles on "I'm giving him a try."

"Okay... and how has he done so far?"

That's a hard question, and Ino seems to catch onto Sakura's dilemma.

"He's the best and worst boyfriend ever?" she eventually says. "He's oddly sweet and he's been giving me a lot of attention. He's also very... uhh, dedicated in other ways..."

Ino snickers at that. "I don't want to know," she says, facepalming. "But..."

"But he told me this thing about not being able to fall in love, and first it felt like a deal breaker, then I decided to give it a chance and now... I'm not sure where to go from here."

"Because you like how things are?"

"Yes, but at the same time I don't know what it will mean in the long run. What if we commit ourselves to a marriage of convenience? That feels like some sort of punishment."

Ino dips her spoon in the mountain of blue-tinted ice and takes a small bite, thinking. It's rare for her to go all serious like this.

"I could never wrap my head around what happened to Sasuke," she says. "The Uchiha massacre, then Orochimaru hunting him, the whole thing with Itachi. I think we've encountered our fair share of rogue ninjas and terrorists who've been through less."

"Trauma..." Sakura ponders. It had crossed her mind, but she hadn't given it any serious thought. She'd been too self-absorbed.

"Maybe. But listen, I'm not saying you should excuse everything or try to heal him into loving you. It's just something to bear in mind."

"Mm," Sakura agrees. Along with being able to peer into other people's minds, the Yamanaka are also quietly empathic. Ino had been less so during part of their childhood, but it came into full display later on, especially with Sai. Ino was the one who gave him a chance before most people did, even though he was far blunter and more awkward than Sasuke. So maybe, Sakura thinks, there's also a personal side to what her friend is saying.

"Did you ever feel that way?" she ventures. "Like you were... trying to fix someone you love?"

"I did. I think to some extent it has worked for us. I can't say it's a good or bad approach. You'll have to follow your instincts, I suppose."

She walks Ino home after their talk, then returns to her own place. Emerging from the stairwell, she immediately spots a familiar figure leaning against the corridor railing across from her door.

“Sasuke-kun?”

His eyes sharpen as he sees her, body turning fully in her direction as she approaches.

“Can I come in for a moment?” he asks.

“Of course.”

She unlocks the door and lets him inside. He slips off his shoes and walks accross the living room with light steps. Sakura brings out a chilled bottle of oolong tea and two cups and when she rejoins him, he’s already at his usual spot, cross-legged on the floor. She joins him there, skipping the sofa. 

Usually when he comes over, they don't linger here. They've discovered they both enjoy cooking together, so heading straight to the kitchen with groceries has become their routine.

Now though, he sits quietly for a long moment, gaze fixed on the condensation beading on the tea bottle.

"I think I might be dragging you into a mess," he says finally.

Sakura won’t pretend to not know what he’s talking about. Anti-Uchiha sentiment has been dormant for years. Sasuke and Itachi helped win the war, and both brothers have kept a low profile since. But now Sasuke has taken up a decision-making role, and the shoemaker's comments might just be the beginning.

Sakura shakes her head. "I was surprised you were actually willing to quit the council to teach. Was that the reason?"

Sasuke's smile is wry. "I was serious about enjoying it." Then, more gravely, "But Kakashi made a strong case against us stepping down. So I wanted to know your opinion."

Sakura had mostly decided what she’ll do during her walk earlier.

"I'll stay on the council as long as needed, but we should set up some kind of reform process. Show civilians we're not just brushing them off."

He nods. "That makes sense." But she suspects he's not here just to discuss council business.

She pours tea for both of them, waiting while he works through whatever's on his mind.

"If you accept my proposal," he says, "your reputation might be tarnished.”

Of all the variables she's considered since she decided to give this thing with Sasuke a chance, village gossip hadn't made the list.

She's had to develop thick skin over the years. First kids mocked her pink hair and forehead. Later, when Team 7 started making waves, other genin called her a talentless burden. When Tsunade began training her, she was accused of not earning her place. Getting criticized for joining the Uchiha wouldn't be much different.

"Don't worry about me," she says with a soft smile.

He frowns, hesitating. "What about our children?"

Sasuke talks about their children like they already exist. It should annoy her—the presumption—but it's oddly endearing instead.

"What?" he asks, catching her expression.

"Nothing, just... picturing myself surrounded by little Uchihas..."

That's all it takes to make the stoic Uchiha Sasuke blush.

"You do?"

She hums, nodding, holding his gaze.

"Anyway," he continues, slipping back into composure, "they could take your name instead, if that would be safer."

Her mouth falls open.

"Your family's peaceful and well-liked. No one would trouble Haruno children over their surname."

She likes her family well enough, usual exasperations aside. But Sasuke's offer is staggering. She'd once nearly accused him of pursuing her just for his clan, and here he is, ready to give it all up.

"You said you cherish your loved ones' memory, that you want to honor it."

"I do," he whispers. "But they're not here anymore. You and our children come first."

There it is again. She let it slide the first time, but now she raises an eyebrow.

"Sasuke-kun, don't you think you're getting ahead of yourself?"

His eyes widen as realization hits.

"I'm sorry," he says, and suddenly he looks small again, all his certainty evaporating. It gives her an odd thrill, knowing she can affect his composure like this. She thinks of Ino's words and how, deep down, Sasuke is still a bruised child, navigating a world that hasn’t been kind to him. She knows better than to try mothering him, but it stirs something protective in her.

She's been careful not to push romantic gestures on him, but some things can be read different ways, and right now, after this whole conversation, she needs to touch him. So she reaches out, fingers barely brushing the back of his hand. He looks up, not startled or withdrawn, just curious.

"We'll figure it out when we get there, okay?" she offers softly.

His knuckles are prominent but the skin is soft, contrasting with the roughness of his palms. Sakura knows that texture well—how his hands feel against her back, gripping her waist. It's easy to get lost in those memories, in how he makes her feel.

"Sakura," he says quietly. "Thank you for not walking away."

Despite everything he stirs in her, she's not ready for promises yet. But there's one thing she can give him.

"I really care for you, Sasuke. I've doubted it over the years, written it off as teenage infatuation. Maybe it started that way. But I'm certain of one thing—even if we never marry or have children, I'll always have your back."

For a moment Sasuke looks wistful, almost sad, but then his lips curve into the warmest smile. He lifts his hand, and she watches as two fingers tap gently against her forehead.

"I feel the same, Sakura."

He pulls his hand back, looking bashful again, color touching his cheeks for the second time today. Once again, Sakura finds herself wondering what more there is to it, what else she's waiting for.

Chapter Text

"Sakura!"

An unfamiliar voice cuts through the crowded shopping district. She's alone for once, hunting for baby presents for Hinata and Ino, both due soon.

She turns and finds herself facing a tall, tan, green-eyed doctor from Suna. She swallows hard. This wasn't expected.

"Hi!" She smiles, remembering many things about him, some unsuitable for polite company, but jarringly not his name. How could she forget? 

"What brings you here?" she asks.

"A conference," he says, frowning slightly. "I thought you'd be attending..."

Is that disappointment flickering across his face? She doesn't want to read too much into it.

"Shizune-san mentioned it, but I'll have to check my schedule."

"Oh, I hope you can make it." He looks directly into her eyes. "I'd really like to spend some time with you. It’s been such a long time…” and if she allows herself to guess, she’d say he looks almost regretful.

She excuses herself to continue her quest for rompers and mittens, but later tracks down Shizune to request the conference participant list.

Yoroi. The name jumps out at her, and she knows instantly it's him. Nearly ten years since her first time and his name had been on her lips then. An experience, a rite of passage of sorts, she had thought. She hadn’t wished to pursue anything further, but she hadn’t expected her mind to erase him. He is part of her personal history after all. So she takes a moment to etch the name into her memory. Then, curiosity satisfied, she sets aside the list and returns to other matters.

At week's end, an unexpected visitor appears at her doorstep in the late afternoon, looking magnificent as always, in a mauve lacy dress.

"Shishou?"

Though Tsunade has allowed herself to age over the years, no longer relying on the seal to maintain the appearance of thirty, she still looks stunning, especially dressed for a celebration.

Tsunade takes in Sakura's homey appearance with a quick sweep of her eyes. "We have a party to attend."

The conference gala dinner. She'd received the invitation but hoped to escape for a quiet night at home instead.

"Isn't it too late for me to join?" she deflects, but Tsunade levels her with a pointed look.

"I can wait." She strolls into Sakura's living room as if she owns it.

Left without options, Sakura retreats to her room and pulls on a black dress kept for such emergencies, pins up her hair, paints her lips red and emerges.

Tsunade nods approvingly, and they depart. The event takes place outdoor, at Senju Park, beneath a gazebo adorned with lanterns and flowers. Tsunade drags her from one introduction to another. Hospital directors, foreign dignitaries, academics. it leaves her barely time to sample the passing canapés and, when they sit for dinner, Tsunade takes the lectern for a speech while Sakura is left to toast with the hospital directors—repeatedly—on her mentor's behalf. By evening's end, she's slightly buzzed, which always loosens her more than she'd like.

Enter Yoroi.

"Hey!" He approaches cheerfully, holding what appears to be lemonade.

Just what she needs. She attempts to extricate herself after brief pleasantries, but he persists. He wants to see her for lunch tomorrow, wants to spend time together, wants her to come to Suna. If she were honest, in a world without Sasuke, she might consider taking him up on some of those invitations. The years have only enhanced his desert charm. It doesn’t help that some of the memories from their dalliance remain vivid enough to leave her slightly hot and bothered. He picks up on this and remains in her orbit, even as she flutters around, socializing. There’s fleeting touches and she catches him staring more than once. If she were someone else she’d be more concerned. As it is, she at least has the comfort of knowing that she can send him flying if things escalate against her will. But that would be inconvenient. Shishou brought her here to build bridges, not pulverize them. So she maintains her composure, switches to water, and keeps the conversation light, avoiding any chance to be alone.

Only when the party winds down and guests begin departing does Yoroi make his move. He walks alongside her, claiming his inn lies in this direction. When she points out there are no inns in the shinobi quarters, he stops and bows.

"I'm sorry. I just wanted to extend our time together. You look so beautiful tonight.”

She nods and honestly says, “it was nice to see you, after all these years.”

He seems to gather his resolve, then steps closer, not touching, just testing the waters.

“I thought of you,” he says, voice soft. “I’ve thought of you all these years. I waited for a visit but you never came. I thought of coming here but I was afraid you'd moved on. When I saw you in the market it all came rushing back. You were so young then, so beautiful, and you trusted me with your first time. I felt privileged, I ached for you to return, but now I'm even more mesmerized. You've become a stunning woman, Sakura. What man wouldn't want you?"

His eyes shine deep green in the dim light, and his words strike that vulnerable place inside her that whispers she's not enough, will never be. The praise and emotion are as flattering as they are painful, because even if sincere, they come from the wrong mouth, the wrong person. Yoroi is handsome and knows how to make a woman feel special, but she craves mismatched eyes instead of green, and a mouth that speaks only truths, even when they hurt.

"I'm flattered," she says, "but I really need to go home now."

Perhaps her words wound his pride, or perhaps he truly meant what he said, but his head drops and he nods sadly.

"I see. I'll let you go then."

She nods back.

"Goodbye, Sakura."

He turns away, and she allows herself a long moment to watch him leave. She doesn't regret her choice, but something aches inside her, deep and heavy.

When she turns around, Sasuke is standing on the road, watching. Had he witnessed everything? What is going through his head? The feeling in her melts into despair. She wishes she could reach inside him, unlock that place in his heart that clearly wants to return her feelings but can't. Her hands clench into fists as she fights back threatening tears.

He opens his mouth, his voice emerging choked. "All this time, I thought I could offer you something acceptable, even being what I am. But I understand now what you're missing by being with me." His shoulders slump. "I'm sorry, Sakura. I was selfish, dragging you into something that doesn't make you happy. I'm so, so sorry."

His face muscles contract, fighting to remain steady. He begins to move away. Images flash before her—him leaving the village again to wander in shadows, dedicating himself to a lifelong mission in solitude, without the family and warmth he craved—and her heart shatters. Perhaps that would be better for her, but she can't accept it. His pain feels like her own. And she knows her decision is made.

"Sasuke, wait!" she cries.

He stops, steps away, just before launching into shunshin.

She runs to him, and during that brief dash, she feels herself morph into her younger self—long hair, baby fat still clinging to her cheeks. She collides with his chest and wraps her arms tightly around him. She's herself again, and fear has left her.

"I choose you," she says. "I choose you as you are, with all the impossibilities and things that will never feel complete. But I can't let go. Don't ever tell me to let go. I love you, and I want to give myself to you, whatever you need from me."

He freezes. She hears his heart drumming frantically against his ribs, and it satisfies her that his feelings have such physical impact. His hands touch her back first, uncertain, tentative. Then one rises to cup her neck while the other frames her cheek, drawing her face from the comfort of his chest. He forces her to meet his eyes but doesn't speak. His thumb traces her cheekbone.

"I don't know what to say. My heart—" His breathing is ragged. "It hurts."

Sakura loosens her grip and brings her hands to his face, mirroring his soft caress.

They embrace again and remain that way for a long time, cheek against cheek, chest against chest.

Without further words, their agreement seals itself.

Chapter Text

On Sasuke's birthday, Sakura wakes with butterflies dancing in her stomach. She's not expecting any momentous change, but there's a premonition hovering at the edge of her mind. Not unpleasant, but it leaves her on edge. She kills time by getting her affairs in order and changing out of her everyday clothes. Sasuke likes her in feminine things, and the day is bright and hot, so she chooses a short white dress with a red cherry pattern. He brings out this coquettish side of her. It thrills her to have his gaze on her and nowhere else.

Getting him a present had been more of a hurdle. She'd settled on a sakura tree sapling, not flowering at the moment but clad in bright green leaves.

Mid-morning finds her leaving the house, cradling the pot. She takes a deep breath outside his door and knocks.

A few seconds later, a different Uchiha opens it.

"Good morning, Sakura. Come in," Itachi greets her with a smile, though there's redness around his dark eyes.

She bows and returns the greeting.

Sasuke sits cross-legged on the living room tatami, the shoji doors open to the garden, letting in the breeze and making the wind chimes sing. She can tell they'd been sitting together, facing outside, a teapot between them.

"Happy birthday, Sasuke-kun."

He rises and comes to her, placing his hands over hers around the pot. "Thank you."

She smiles. "This is for you."

Though more subtle, the redness around his eyes tells her both brothers have been crying. This too—their common scars—is a fixture in their life. But it's not the burden she might have once thought.

Carefully, Itachi approaches and says softly, "It's a beautiful present, Sasuke. You ought to plant it in the garden."

Sasuke doesn't look at his brother, but he finally smiles. "Yes, I will."

The three of them sit together, and Itachi pours tea from a well-worn cast iron teapot. Sakura has never seen it here, so it must be a present, though it seems odd as such. The brothers catch her gazing at it thoughtfully, and a quiet understanding forms among them. Itachi explains.

"This old teapot was our mother's. She filled it every morning, and it was always on the table. She loved tea and made us drink it even when it was too bitter for our young tastebuds." Sasuke chuckles, and they both seem lost in memory for a moment. "I found it when this house was in ruins and kept it all these years. I thought it was time it returned home."

The reason goes unspoken, but Sakura notices Itachi's gaze on her, impossibly warm.

"Well, I should leave you." He unfurls his long legs, preparing to stand. Sasuke moves to rise too, but Itachi stops him with a two-fingered tap to the forehead. Though it seems to cross him, Sasuke stays put. "Have a happy day, otouto. Come for dinner when you can."

He bows to Sakura politely and sees himself out.

They remain silent for a while, savoring the tea and watching birds flutter around the nearby trees.

"Would you like to help me plant it?" Sasuke finally asks.

They get to it despite the searing heat. Sasuke retrieves broad-brimmed straw hats from storage, which they both don. They pick a spot not too close to the wall, allowing space for growth, but still somewhat sheltered. Sasuke digs while Sakura fetches compost in a bucket from the shed. Then Sasuke carefully lifts the sapling from its pot while Sakura holds the thin trunk gently. They lower the tree into the ground and cover the roots with soil and compost. Finally, Sasuke waters the area with the hose. When they're done, flushed from the heat, as he turns to switch off the water, a cold splash hits Sakura's leg and she yelps in surprise. He looks at her, but instead of apologizing, he directs another splash at her, grinning mischievously.

"You!" She reaches for the hose and manages to redirect the stream at him, soaking his chest. He retaliates, and they wrestle for control of the cold water, getting progressively wetter. When they finally quiet down, Sasuke's hair is drenched, along with his shirt and one pant leg. Sakura's dress clings to her skin from neck to thigh. As realization hits, the atmosphere shifts. He pulls her to the shade and kisses her. Their wet bodies collide. The hard wall of his chest presses against her, his hands finding her waist, her hips. His mouth slides down her neck, making her hotter than she was under the sun. His hands suddenly grasp the underside of her thighs and hoist her up. She wraps her legs around him, arms around his neck. He carries her to the house and lays her on the tatami where they'd just been drinking tea with his brother. He rolls them, and she comes up on top, straddling him. For a moment they just breathe, simmering down, but his hands don't stop roaming. They trace the outline of her bra under wet fabric and find her pebbled nipples. His arousal is warm and hard beneath her, and she grinds down, making him gasp. But she wants more—more contact, more closeness. She pulls him up and kisses him while her hands work his wet shirt off. She licks down his neck and chest, moving lower as he rests on his elbows. She reaches his waistband and tugs down, freeing him of all his wet clothes. He's beautiful like this, at her disposal, all lean muscle and pale skin. His eyes follow her movement, and for a moment she hesitates, but she's too worked up by the heat. She wants him inside her. She removes her underwear and tosses it aside. He brings it to his nose and inhales. That's all it takes. She moves forward on her knees, holds him upright, and sinks down.

"Sakura," he whispers.

He pulls up her dress, and this time he doesn't rip it but removes it easily, followed by her bra. She starts moving slowly, feeling the drag of his bare flesh against her. She braces her hands on his chest as he leans back onto the mat, letting her take control, his hands merely resting on her hips.

It feels heavenly to have him so deep inside her, right where she wants him. She rolls her hips and spins, and it must be working for him too, because he starts whimpering lowly, his nose scrunching adorably, his lip caught between his teeth.

"Sasuke," she moans, clenching around him, letting every nerve feel him. She moves more erratically, speeding the pace, and he starts canting his hips up, hitting harder, making her contract and spasm and come down in bliss while he releases into her.

"So good, Sakura," he says. "You feel so good."

She collapses over his chest and lets his arms lock her in.

Later that day, after they've cleaned up and shared a simple lunch, Sasuke takes a small envelope from a drawer and comes to her.

"Earlier, Itachi gave me something else, but this is something I asked of him... for you."

Sakura's heart leaps in anticipation. Sasuke opens the envelope and tilts it into her palm. The object that falls is small and light. A knot forms in her throat when she sees the small Uchiha crest, crafted in white and red glass, attached to a delicate silver chain. It's identical to the one Sasuke always wears around his wrist, that has remained intact throughout travels and battles, a memento of his beloved brother.

She can't form words yet, so she just watches as he holds her hand and closes her fingers over the offering.

"I failed your test. I have more shortcomings than any other partner, and I can't promise I'll ever get better. Yet you're still here. You’ve planted yourself in my garden, and you’ve offered me your hert. So I want to give you what's most precious to me in return. Sakura, would you be my family?"

Her breath escapes in a gasp.

Becoming an Uchiha isn't the same as joining any other family. The clan is marked by hatred, war, and tragedy. But the Uchiha is also Sasuke and his quiet brand of kindness. It's Itachi and Tomoko-chan and Kakashi-sensei. She loves these people more than she fears their name. And for once, her decision isn't hard at all.

 "Yes," she says. "For you, always yes."

He winds his arms around her and fastens the clasp, letting the crest fall gently over her sternum. He caresses her hair and brings their foreheads together. "Uchiha Sakura," he says, a smile playing on his lips.

She giggles lightly and he chuckles. Maybe, despite everything, they really are each other's happy place.

When autumn comes around, they marry in Naka Shrine, surrounded by family and friends. Little Boruto and Inojin, her mother, and Itachi are the designated criers, while Naruto pretends no one sees him tearing up too. In the middle of the festivities, unbeknownst to all except her new husband, a little bundle of their intermingled cells already rests within her, growing stronger by the day. It makes her proud and warm and glowing.

Sarada is born in spring, and two years later, little Shisui joins the family. The council rotation is eventually approved, and Sakura succeeds Tsunade as head of Konoha's general hospital. Sasuke divides his time between mentorship and missions, and when he's home—which is often, given his remarkable efficiency—everyone gathers on the porch to listen to his stories, play board games, and laugh. The sakura tree grows and flowers every spring when they celebrate Sakura and Sarada's birthdays. Little Shisui looks up to Uncle Itachi more than anyone else, but they take it easy, because childhood is for playing, and the ninja world has claimed too many victims. Not all is peaceful. There are foes to tackle, and one day that burden will fall upon their children. Nevertheless, they live, they grow, and they welcome their autumns together.

One summer day, just shy of Sasuke's fiftieth birthday, they find themselves walking along the Naka River in the early evening. Their fingers are interlaced, as has been their habit for years.

"Sakura, what is love?" Sasuke asks, looking over the sparkling clear water.

It's a question that haunted her once but lost all meaning as the years went by.

"Can you give others something you don't have?" she muses. "You once told me you didn't love me, and I took it as absolute fact. But you know something, Sasuke? I don't believe it anymore."

Sasuke smiles, making the fine lines around his eyes deepen. The wind blows his hair back, revealing silvery strands flowing from his temples. "You've always been smarter than me, though I never admitted it."

She shrugs. "Who needs to be smart when you have the looks?"

He snorts, incredulous. "But you also have the looks!"

"What can I say? I'm the whole package," she quips.

His lips split into a grin. "Come on, Mrs. Perfect, the kids are waiting."

And they walk home as the sun sets over the village.