Sasuke pulled the bowstring tighter, gripping the nock more tightly and squinting his left eye. Now, only he, the bow, and the yellow circle in the center of the target existed. He slowly released his fingers, and the arrow, with a dull hum as it sliced through the air, embedded itself in the thick paper. Sasuke hissed in displeasure. Again, only the red zone.
His hand instinctively reached for the quiver at his waist, searching for another arrow, but encountered only emptiness. He was out of arrows.
"I already told you, Sasuke," Kakashi said smoothly in his monotonous voice, lounging on a bench against a cold concrete wall, and half his face was hidden by a black surgical mask. In his hands, he held a book with a dubious cover and title. "The further to the left of the bowstring your eye is, the further to the left your arrows will fly."
And how does he manage to keep track of everything while spending most of his time engrossed in that book? He didn't seem the least bit interested in what his students were doing. In Sasuke's opinion, their sensei was more than a little useless, and therefore he wasn't particularly inclined to listen to his advice.
"Clear," Sasuke said coldly, ruthlessly tearing the paper target from the shield to attach a new one.
He released arrows one after another, but none of them reached their goal—the yellow zone, the inner ten."
His two teammates, Neji and Shikamaru, who were standing nearby, were chatting more than they were training. Of course, for them, it was just a hobby, a fun pastime, unlike for him. The girls had decided to skip training altogether today, despite the upcoming competition. He squeezed the bow grip harder and furiously loosed another arrow; it embedded itself deep in the blue zone.
Sasuke's eyes widened more from shock than displeasure. Unacceptable. He gritted his teeth.
Kakashi remained silent, not looking up from his book. Apparently, he'd said all he wanted to say.
"Going home?" Neji asked, slinging his sports bag over his shoulder, a crumpled towel carelessly sticking out. He ran a broad hand through his long chestnut hair pulled back in a ponytail, slightly disheveled from training.
"No," Sasuke said, without glancing up, releasing another arrow that again landed in the red zone. Damn it. "I'll practice some more."
"Don't overwork yourself," Neji said worriedly, heading for the door. "Mental preparation is just as important as physical."
Sasuke nodded, pretending to heed his teammate's advice.
Scattered rays of sunlight, streaming through the large window, illuminated dust motes in the air.
He'd lost track of how many arrows he'd fired and how many paper targets he'd ruined. His fingers and back ached, signaling that they needed a rest. With a sigh, he removed his quiver and bracer from his belt, counted his arrows, and put all his sporting equipment away in the storeroom.
Sasuke walked slowly down the corridor, checking his phone messages. Naruto had sent him a couple of old memes, which he decided not to react to. His mother had texted a short list of things to buy from the store.
A strange noise made him freeze. He looked around, listening intently. There it was again: a dull thud. And again. Pricking up his ears, Sasuke took a few steps forward, stopping before a slightly ajar door with a sign above it reading "Fencing Hall." Seeing no reason not to satisfy his curiosity, he peered inside.
A figure clad in pristine white fencing gear was making precise lunges and gracefully wielding a foil, striking a helpless dummy. Sasuke leaned against the doorframe, his hands shoved into the pockets of his dark blue trousers. Judging by the plastic chest protector, the trainee was a girl. He was captivated by her refined, precise movements; her cautious tiptoeing in thin sneakers; the blade in her elegant hands whistling through the air.
Ten minutes passed before she noticed him. Looking around, the figure flinched and took a couple of awkward steps back, lowering her foil.
"Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you," he shrugged; his apology was rather callous and indifferent. "Also preparing for regionals?"
The girl pulled off her enormous helmet with the metal mesh and, brushing stray pink hairs from her forehead, caught her breath.
"Yeah," her voice was hoarse and strained.
He watched, captivated, as she returned the foil to its place and disappeared into the changing room. Instead of going home (he was already late, after all), he lingered, waiting.
"You’re still here?"
Sasuke watched as the dim rays of the evening sun slowly slid across the brown wooden floor, leaving the room. A bright, girlish voice brought him back to his senses. He lifted his dark eyes and saw an ordinary schoolgirl in uniform, a bag slung over her shoulder. Her pink, shoulder-length hair was still slightly damp from the shower.
"Let’s go for a walk?"
The girl froze for a couple of seconds, pondering. Then, seemingly reluctantly, she nodded.
"What’s your name?"
"Haruno Sakura, I’m from 3-С."
"Uchiha Sasuke, 3-A."
"Nice to meet you."
They walked purposefully down the corridor. Sasuke tried to remember if he had heard that name before; not being in the same class throughout school was quite typical due to class assignments. In all three years of high school, he hadn’t once been in a class with his best friend. Though he didn’t pay much attention to who he studied with, it wasn’t surprising that he didn’t know some Haruno Sakura. There was only one “but”: he knew everyone on the school’s sports team, as they often traveled together to competitions. That fell within his area of interest.
"I didn’t think there were still people like you left in this school," Sasuke admitted, glancing out the window. The sky was already hidden behind the numerous houses on the hill, leaving behind a crimson and gold sunset. "Are you new here?"
"Huh?" She blinked a couple of times in confusion. The sudden question embarrassed her, throwing her off balance. She hadn’t expected him to guess, Sasuke concluded. A shadow of confusion flickered across her face—he didn’t miss it. "How did you know?"
"I know everyone who’s in the sports clubs,” he shrugged.
"Wow," she said, looking down at her feet, her sharp shoulders trembling slightly beneath her white shirt. "That's impressive," she added, gripping her bag tighter.
He sensed her tension; she shrank as if trying to become smaller, though how much smaller could she get? Even the standard school bag looked like a huge sack of potatoes on the petite girl.
They reached the changing rooms, where each class had its own rack. After changing shoes, they found themselves on the wide porch. It smelled of autumn: decaying leaves and damp earth. A cool September breeze blew, ruffling her pink hair and blue skirt. Sakura shyly held it down with her hand.
"Well, I go that way," she said, pointing to the left when they reached the school gates. "Bye."
Sasuke nodded goodbye and started walking in the opposite direction. What a strange encounter.
.
.
.
For the rest of the week, they walked the school corridors together, parting ways at the gates. Sakura continued to train alone, relentlessly practicing with a dummy. She seemed subdued, but Sasuke didn’t interfere. After all, they weren’t that close. Still, there was slight progress—her anxiety was gradually receding, and she seemed more relaxed than during their first encounter.
On Friday, right after school, Sasuke headed to the archery club, as usual. But this time, something was different—passing the fencing hall, he couldn’t resist peeking inside. The doors were open too wide, he told himself.
Seven students huddled together on the floor in the middle of the hall, attentively listening to the strict instructions of Kurenai, a young woman with red eyes and curly black hair, dressed in sportswear. She had recently joined as a physical education teacher; apparently, she had been selected for the Olympic Games, which gave her considerable authority among the students—even the popularity of fencing had increased. However, Sasuke was concerned about something else—he didn’t see the pink top of Sakura’s head among the club members.
He trained relentlessly again, releasing arrows at the target. His success was inconsistent. Occasionally, he paused to quench his thirst or do some arm exercises. Kakashi remained silent, lazily flipping through the pages of a book, not even bothering to pay attention to the other students. However, they didn’t seem to particularly need his attention, busying themselves and only occasionally returning to archery.
Sasuke was late again today. He didn’t even know why—out of love for archery or because he didn’t want to listen to his father’s complaints about his achievements at dinner. The closer the date of the regional competition, which determined whether he would qualify for the national championship, the more pressure his father put on him.
Taking off his gloves and casually throwing them into his bag, he headed for the exit. This time, Sasuke decided to postpone checking his messenger, preferring to put his earphones in and lose himself in music to drown out his own thoughts.
The door to the fencing hall was open again. It was unlikely someone had simply forgotten to close it.
"You’re here again?" he leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. Even though her face was hidden behind a mask, he clearly recognized her by her movements.
Sakura started and turned, instinctively taking a step back. For someone so skilled with a blade, she was surprisingly timid.
"Aren’t you going home?"
"What time is it?" she took off her helmet and tucked it under her arm. Her hair was tangled and clung to her face, flushed from the workout. Her green eyes, reminiscent of spring grass, gleamed mischievously. Sasuke recognized that gleam—the gleam of enjoyment in a favorite activity.
"Almost nine."
"My mom will kill me!" A look of horror distorted her face.
Sasuke chuckled, watching as she frantically tossed her helmet, took off her jacket and gloves, and ran to the shower. This time, they had pushed themselves even harder, getting carried away with their hobbies.
As they walked down the corridor towards the changing rooms, Sasuke glanced out the window. Impenetrable blackness was rising from the horizon.
"I didn’t see you at the club after school today."
Sakura nervously fiddled with the straps of her bag. Sasuke noticed she always did that when she was nervous.
"I did cardio," Sakura said, clearing her throat. "Outside. Physical conditioning is very important in fencing."
"Right."
When they got outside, purple clouds covered the sky; a light rain was beginning to fall. The September-touched leaves rustled sadly under the furious gusts of wind.
“Oh, it’s raining," Sakura whispered in surprise, holding out her palm to catch the raindrops. She wasn’t prepared for this weather; she should have checked the forecast more often.
"Here," Sasuke offered her a long black umbrella. "I don’t live far, so it’s okay. You can return it tomorrow."
She seemed to want to object, but Sasuke was adamant.
"Tomorrow’s Saturday," Sakura whispered, coming to her senses and looking at the umbrella in bewilderment, as if he had handed her some unknown object and she didn’t know how to use it.
"Then Monday," Sasuke said firmly, tightening his grip on the umbrella in her hand.
"Thank you," she almost bowed in gratitude, but Sasuke gently stopped her with a light touch on her shoulder, immediately retracting his hand so as not to embarrass her and not to make her doubt his noble motives.
A light blush touched her cheeks, and she hurried to hide behind the open umbrella. Waving goodbye, she skipped along the slippery sidewalk.
He watched her until her slender figure dissolved into the rain. Something in her words lingered in his mind, leaving him puzzled.
.
.
.
After the weekend, Sasuke decided to drop by the fencing club to see Sakura. It wasn’t that he was eager to return the umbrella. It was just… to check on her? To see if she got home alright? By the time he covered the three blocks between the school and his house, the rain had turned into a downpour, soaking him to the bone; the wind kept tearing leaves from the trees and whipping them into his face. His mother spent a long time giving him hot tea afterward, lamenting that he’d come home so late and might get sick. Luckily, everything was fine. And now he wanted to know if she was okay.
Kurenai seemed to be late, so most of the students, already changed into their fencing uniforms, were chattering merrily amongst themselves in small groups. Only two were warming up and practicing their skills on dummies, but neither of them was Sakura. Their movements were too hesitant and clumsy.
"Hey," Sasuke called out to those present, pausing in the doorway. "Have you seen Haruno Sakura?"
His question was met with icy silence.
"She won’t be here," Yamanaka Ino, a blonde with a high ponytail, finally said. It's interesting how she even puts on a protective helmet?
"What? Doesn’t she train at the fencing club?" Sasuke doubted Sakura had lied to him. Even though he wasn’t very knowledgeable about fencing, she was too good not to be accepted into the club.
Sasuke noticed Ino tense up, her lips pursed and her posture rigid.
"She doesn’t attend group training," she crossed her arms and proudly lifted her chin. "Apparently, she thinks she’s too good to train with people like us. Pathetic mortals."
"What nonsense?" Sasuke raised an eyebrow in disbelief. Sakura could be anything but arrogant, disdaining training with others. Sparring was an integral part of fencing and couldn’t be neglected. With such an attitude towards sports, you wouldn’t achieve much. That’s definitely not Sakura’s style.
"Because of her, Hinata was kicked off the regional team," Ino exploded, pointing to a girl lurking to the side. That same Hinata (Neji’s cousin, if Sasuke’s memory served him right) nervously fiddled with the edge of her white jacket, shifting from foot to foot in confusion. "Big deal, she qualified for the Junior World Championships last year, so what?!"
It took Sasuke about a minute to process the information. From the embarrassed glances of those around him, he understood that Ino was spouting obvious nonsense to everyone except herself.
"Ino, I…" Hinata seemed to want to say something, either in her own defense or in Sakura’s, but it came out poorly.
Sasuke sighed in frustration, rolling his eyes. There was nothing more for him to do here.
"If she was replaced, maybe the problem is with her, not Sakura?" Sasuke threw out dismissively before heading to the archery club.
He heard Ino’s swearing and Hinata’s futile attempts (more like incoherent mumbling) to calm her down.
He decided to finish his training early that day because he had an important conversation with Sakura in mind. As usual, when he crossed the threshold of the fencing club, Sakura paused her training and headed to the locker room, giving him a welcoming wave. He responded with a slight nod. Apparently, he served as a kind of clock she implicitly trusted, so she didn’t ask extra questions like "Why are you here earlier than usual?"
They stopped at a vending machine with drinks and snacks.
"Want anything?"
She sat down on the windowsill.
"Green tea."
"Why aren’t you training with everyone at the club? Are they bullying you?" Sasuke certainly wasn’t one to beat around the bush.
The vending machine refused to dispense drinks, and he had to slap the metal box; with a disgruntled groan, it finally gave up the desired item.
"No, it’s just…" she shook her head, her hair swaying in sync. "I just feel uncomfortable and guilty."
Sasuke tiredly rubbed his temples, then ran a hand through his hair, ruffling it even more. What a difficult case.
"I don’t want to lecture you or anything, but you understand that sparring is a crucial part of fencing, right?” he handed her the metal can of drink.
Sakura slumped, stretching out her legs and looking indifferently at her school slippers.
"They can’t stand me,” she spat out bitterly.
"Nonsense, they’re just afraid of Ino. I’m sure they’d love to train with you; you could teach them many new things."
Sakura silently opened the can and took a few cautious sips. Sasuke sat down beside her.
"Thank you."
"No problem."
Sakura wasn’t in the hall the next day; apparently, having resolved her issues with her clubmates, she no longer had any reason to stay late, leaving Sasuke wondering if she would eventually find her place among them.
.
.
.
He told himself he would just glance at the fencing hall from the corner of his eye.
The club members formed a tight circle around Sakura, eagerly listening to her every word. She gesticulated animatedly, holding her helmet with one hand. Her shoulders heaved with each strained breath. She’d probably just finished sparring. Kurenai, standing nearby, nodded approvingly.
He felt a light tap on his back.
"Hey, want to switch careers?" Neji’s voice sounded in his ear.
Sasuke let out a soft chuckle.
After a couple of hours of continuous training, he had completely lost feeling in his body, as if it no longer belonged to him.
The harder he tried, the worse he did.
He wondered why he was even putting himself through this. Sasuke closed his eyes and took a deep breath to oxygenate his blood and muscles. Memories from his childhood surfaced—his older brother making him a small bow from a branch, and them running through the woods together, trying to shoot a squirrel. True, his efforts had never been successful in hitting a squirrel.
He enjoyed archery. He wasn’t the type to use a bow and arrow to vent negative emotions. Rather, he used archery as a way to focus and clear his mind. He liked the weight of the quiver on his belt, running his fingers along the shaft, adjusting the tension of the bowstring, releasing the arrowhead, sending the arrow straight into the bullseye—something about these actions had a calming effect on him.
Taking a deep breath, he tried to aim as accurately as possible.
The competition was looming, causing anxiety to tighten in his throat. Despite his stoic nature, he was still an ordinary person, subject to classic emotions.
So, what was Kakashi telling him? The further to the left of the bowstring his eye is, the further left the arrow will fly? Therefore, the bowstring needs to be in line with his eye. Slowly, he released his fingers, drawing the bowstring as far back as possible, and shot. The arrow pierced the paper target. A perfect ten.
"Wow!" an admiring exclamation escaped Sakura’s lips, frozen in the doorway of the archery club. She immediately covered her mouth with her hands, but it was too late—Sasuke heard her. He turned to the source of the noise, reflexively lowering his bow.
He was slightly stunned—both by hitting the yellow zone of the target and by Sakura’s sudden appearance.
"Sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you," Sakura chirped apologetically, tiptoeing toward the bench under the window. She carefully placed her bag down and took two cans out of it. "You shoot great!"
"Well, not as great as you fence," he shrugged indifferently.
"You’re flattering me," Sakura shyly looked away, trying to hide her face with her hair, and offered him a can of tea. "Returning the favor."
"There’s no need,” he put down his bow. "How long have you been here?"
She popped open the can with a loud click, almost spilling the sticky drink on herself.
"A couple of minutes. I decided it was my turn today," Sakura said meaningfully, smiling slyly and taking a couple of small sips.
He took the can from Sakura, and condensation immediately soaked into his black gloves, pleasantly chilling his skin. Green tea was just what he needed—he was terribly thirsty.
"You weren’t here yesterday," Sasuke stated, and took a few greedy sips, draining the container in one go.
"Some of the guys suggested going to karaoke," Sakura explained sheepishly, sitting down on the bench.
"That’s great! I told you, they don’t hate you. They’re just cautious about newcomers."
This was also true of Sakura herself—during their first meeting, she had approached him with some apprehension, looking a little intimidated.
"Ino apologized. Or Hinata made her. I don’t know," Sakura giggled. "She even asked for some advice,” she stretched, loosening her tired muscles. "Well, training with a dummy is nothing compared to a real person. I even took a couple of hits. I’m not used to it yet."
Sasuke nodded proudly.
Today they were going in the same direction. Sakura looked at him questioningly when he started walking with her to the left.
"I need to go to the bookstore."
They reached the intersection. A red light blocked her way home.
"The regional competition is in three days. Can I come watch you shoot?" she looked down at the grout between the paving stones, embarrassed.
What a silly question.
"Yeah, sure," he would also come to her competition, but he wouldn’t say so, to avoid making her worry prematurely.
Ten seconds left.
"Thank you again," she fidgeted in place, as if she wanted to say something else but couldn’t bring herself to do it.
She quickly crossed the zebra crossing under the short green light and stopped on the curb. She turned; her hair flew up in the air, and in the rays of the setting sun, it seemed as if they were engulfed in flames.
"Let’s go to the nationals together, okay?"
Sasuke nodded, a slight smile beginning to form at the corners of his lips, as hope flickered within him.