There was a discolored spot on the ceiling of his bedroom, right in the corner above his bed. The yellowish tone of color distinguish and familiar. The ceiling bulged slightly and the paint blistered and peeled off.
He was certain that it was water damage.
He should probably call his landlord and let him know about the apartment above him flooding everything, but he didn’t have the energy to phone him and complain about the same idiotic tenant again.
Instead he used the abstract lines to imagine endless pictures and arts. If he let his mind go, he could imagine the silhouettes of different animals. He found a tabby, orange and whites lines of his ceiling connecting to a beautiful cat with curious misshaped eyes. He found a tiger, body and lines bigger and leaner. He found a giraffe with an impossible long neck connecting along side his wall to the opposite corner.
A knock, and the door creaked open with Sakura popping her head in. Her short bright-colored hair bobbed slightly from the movement and her green eyes crinkled at the corners. Her smile was stretched wide, white teeth peeking through her pinkish lips.
“Sasuke-kun, I’m going out. Do you want to join me?“
He grunted and turned on his side, his back to the door and stared at the dark curtains instead. The sun shone into his eyes and he closed them in favor of pulling the comforter over his head.
“I guess that’s a no.“ She sighed quietly and knocked against the frame. “If you change your mind, you know where to find me.“ She hesitated, before closing the door with a small muttered ‘bye‘.
The radio filled the silence of the room, disconnecting and stuttering.
One song after another echoed in the four walls, back and forth, and back and forth again.
Sasuke’s ears hurt, but couldn’t bring up the energy to change the station.
—
Hands pulled the comforter down carefully and Sasuke blinked against the brightness of the room. He almost hissed at his annoying roommate to leave him the fuck alone, but the beautiful smile of his mother greeted him instead.
“What are you doing, sweetie? Hiding out in your room like this?“
For a second, he was blindsided by the sheer beauty of her presence. The sun had worked its way down the horizon, bedding the room in marvelous reds and golds, illuminating her angel-like appearance. Her alabaster skin looked like a reflection of the sunset, full of life and energy, while her long dark hair absorbed the light to pure darkness.
“Sakura-chan said, you’re not feeling well. What’s wrong, baby?“
Her soft hand brushed through his unwashed hair and massaged his dirty scalp. It should be disgusting, no one should be touching his hair, but it was his mother, his light at the end of the tunnel. And the sheer adoration in her voice loosened the tightness around his chest that he had carried around for weeks on ends.
His next breath stuttered in his chest, trembling from the force of emotions unlocking. Tears sprung to his eyes, uncontrolled and unwilling, and he pushed the palms of his hands against it to hide away. He curled inwards, smaller and smaller, until he felt six years old again, crying about whatsoever.
“Oh, what’s wrong, little man?“
There was no sound to his voice. No matter how often he tried to speak, there was just the soundless moving of his lips against the mane of her dark hair as she hugged him impossible close, cooing and hushing, while he struggled to catch his breath and voice.
He cried silently, without a reason, without a coherent thought.
—
The plate clattered softly against the table as she put it down. She brushed his oily hair out of his face to press a loving kiss to his forehead.
“Here we go, tomato soup for my growing boy. You will feel better in no time. I promise.“
The soup was scalping hot, the steam burning in his nose. It tickled his eyes, almost producing new tears, and he swallowed around his tight throat.
“After you finish, you should take a shower. I can’t believe Sakura-chan lets you run around like this. You’re a menace.“ She pressed her finger against his forehead, the same spot she just kissed, and smiled softly. "You should be nicer to her. She’s just trying to help you.“
I don’t want her help.
Her smile widened, as if she heard him, and pushed the plate a tiny bit closer.
“Eat, while it’s still hot.“
He picked up the spoon and ate.
—
Sakura came back with her shoulders squared and her fits lifted for a fight. He almost envied her for the emotions plastered on her face, almost laughed too, when it disappeared from the sheer audacity that he managed to eat dinner and have a shower without her spitting in his face.
She reddened, cheeks flaring bright red, while her eyes raked over his naked upper body, before biting her bottom lip and averting her eyes. “Do you feel better, Sasuke-kun?“
His desk was a mess of papers and pens and his fingers itched to clean up his room, but at least the air was fresh and cool from the open window. It wasn’t perfect, nowhere near it, but his mother helped enough with her presence.
“Yes,“ he croaked with an abused voice and cleared his throat, when it came out gravely. “Mother came by to make some food. There’s still some left, help yourself.“
It was the closest to ‘thank you‘ he could get right now, but she seemed to understand it from his gesture anyway. She blew out all the air from her lungs, pushing out all her anger and frustration, before smiling with low shoulders.
He averted his gaze and looked in the tiny mirror instead. He still looked sick. Unbelievable pale with sunken in cheeks. He avoided looking at his ribs for too long, didn’t want to count and check if they were still in there. He pulled the dark blue shirt over his head and flattened the fabric.
"Thank you, Sasuke-kun. I’m pretty bummed I missed her. Did she just leave?“
“Yes,“ he answered with closed eyes and took a deep breath of fresh air. He remembered the door falling shut, re-opening almost seconds later. “I’m surprised you didn’t see her on her way out.“
“Maybe next time,“ Sakura murmured nostalgic and brushed his shoulder. “Hey, do you want to watch a movie? There’s this new one on Netflix I wanted to watch. I think you’ll like it.“
Remembering his mother’s words of kindness, he nodded.
—
He complained about a headache in the middle of the movie and Sakura jumped up so fast, the bed rattled hard enough from the force, he thought an earthquake shook the apartment complex.
Nothing in the room shattered to pieces, but the vertigo stayed for another minute, while Sakura brought him a glass of water and a white little pill.
“Here, take this. You will feel better in no time.“ She pushed both in his trembling hands and checked his temperature with the back of her hand. “You’ve got no fever, but let me know if it gets worse. You’re probably just dehydrated.“
He pushed her hand out of his face and wiped her touch away. “It’s just a headache, stop babying me.“
Her expression cracked, before an obvious hurt smile spread on her face. “Are you good for the rest of the movie?“
He turned away from her bright green eyes, glassy enough to betray the hurt behind his words, and he closed his eyes to put himself back together again.
“Yeah, let’s finish it.“
He couldn’t tell if the movie was good or bad, it was just a movie. Sakura didn’t comment on the movie either and she closed her laptop with an uneasy smile after the credits scrolled down.
“I’ll let you sleep some more, let me know if you need anything. I’ll be next door.“
Where else would you be?
—
His older brother was always near, never too far out of reach, and he came over after Sasuke asked Sakura to get some tomatoes from the grocery store the next time she popped into one.
She had kneaded her hands in her weird nervous, jittery energy, and rushed out of the room with her footsteps echoing down the long hallway and the promise of his favorites served on a silver plate.
“She’s not your servant, but your friend. You should treat her as such, little brother.“
I don’t want to, seemed too close to the truth and ‘she’s not my friend’ too far away to be convincing enough for the lie it was. In the end he decided to say nothing at all, only because he didn’t want to listen to another berating of hurting other people feelings, when in the end, he never told her yes, only no.
She should know better, had always known better.
“It’s not her fault for loving you.“
It’s not my fault either, he wanted to answer but the words got stuck in his throat. He knew Itachi didn’t mean it like that, never meant it like that, but he always felt guilty for hoarding her for himself, when he never wanted her in the first place.
When Sakura came back with perfectly cut tomatoes on a white plate and a sweet smile, his older brother already disappeared from their apartment. There’s no reason to put up with one more dumbass in his life, when Sakura couldn’t leave him alone for more than a minute at a time.
—
The water damage was still there a week later of no notice, and Sakura promised to call the landlord herself if he restrained from duct taping a piece of paper to the ceiling while balancing his desk chair on his bed and nearly falling into an early death again.
—
“I hate it.“
“What’s wrong with it?“ Sakura asked curious and held on to the paint brush. “You asked for sunset orange, didn’t you?“
“This is not sunset orange,“ he growled and threw his brush to the floor. The paint splattered over the rolled out protection foil and his rattled clothes. “It’s too dark.“
“It will lighten up, Sasuke-kun. After it dried.“ Her smile trembled, before it steadied again. “I promise you, okay? It will be the perfect shade, I— I personally showed them the picture of the color we wanted.“
“It’s not good enough,“ he hissed and ran his fingers through his hair. It didn’t matter if his hair was orange at the end of the job, he could be all orange for all he cared, but it needed to be the right color. Only the right color was accepted, only the orange he loved most was acceptable in this stupid, lonely life of his.
Sakura grabbed his wrist, when he almost ripped his hair out, and squared her shoulders for conquering. It was the thing he liked most about her. When she finally pushed this annoying school crush girl to the side and stood up for herself.
“Let the color dry, you bastard,“ she growled loudly and let go of his wrist to push her finger into his bony shoulder instead. “Listen to what I have to say and stop ignoring me for your hissy fit. It’s the perfect shade of orange. I know it, you know it. Sit down and watch the color dry, okay? Don’t belittle my ability to choose a fucking color.“
He sat down.
—
The color dried to the most perfect shade of orange, even better than his memories ever provided, and Sakura smiled smugly, her green eyes crinkling in victory. He didn’t apologize to her, but she didn’t seem to hold a grudge either. (Not a bad one, at least.)
He stayed seated in front of the wall and stared at the most beautiful and hideous color the world had ever gifted him.
Something like happiness crept into his bones, settling like an anchor thrown into the wide ocean. It didn’t pull him under, but held him steady on board of a broken ship.
—
“Are you happy?“
Sakura’s voice flooded his senses, soft and grateful. She leaned against the entrance of his bedroom, the white frame and walls a stark contrast to her bubbly appearance. From the corner of his eyes, he notices her red sleeveless qipao and long whiteish pants.
He lifted his gaze back to the single orange wall, wandered from corner to corner to the brightness in the middle and closed his eyes with a deep breath. The knot in his chest was loose and nice, finally bearable again.
“Yeah, I’m happy.“
Sakura laughed happily and brushed his shoulder with her hand. “I’m glad to hear that,“ she answered and smiled wide and joyful. “You even moved your furniture around. Why didn’t you ask for help?“
He was sitting on the floor, his back against his bed. There’s something fundamentally wrong with lying in bed and starring at his wall for hours. It wasn’t much better sitting on the floor but at least his back didn’t hurt so bad as sitting in his chair.
“I wanted to do it alone.“
A deep sigh from his right and Sakura spoke up again. “That’s fine. Just let me know next time, okay? I’ll help you. You don’t need to do everything alone. I’m here, Sasuke-kun. I’m always here for you.“
Annoyed, he shook her hand off with a huff. He couldn’t bear her underlying confessions anymore, the everlasting reassuring she was here for him. Of course, she was here, where else would she be than annoying him day and night?
“Sasuke-kun? Did you hear me?“
“Leave. I want to be alone.“
“Okay.“ She hesitated before squeezing his shoulder hard and fast. “Just remember, okay?“ She stood up again and sighed.
“I’ll leave you alone with your wall,“ she joked goodnatured and closed the door behind herself softly. Her footsteps echoed down the long hallway, clack, clack, clack, clack, before he couldn’t hear her anymore.
It was easier to breathe now.
—
The next days, he spent the majority of time staring at the wall.
Once in a while, Sakura peeked into the room and told him to eat something, even going so far as to dropping plates on his desk before disappearing again. She brought him water, even forced him to drink whenever he started to rub his temples.
“Hey, I’m going out. Do you want to come with me?“ She asked on the seventh day and her bottom lip trembled. “It will do you some good, okay? You shouldn’t be all holed up in here. It’s not healthy.“
The sense of content left him from one second to the next, the anger erupting like an overdue volcano.
“Just leave me alone, Sakura!“
This time, the door closed loudly.
It felt oddly satisfying.
—
Mother came by again.
Of course, Sakura snitched on him. He shouldn’t be surprise by this, but the reproachable lifted perfect eyebrow gave him the guilty pleasure of being mean and still being punished for it. He was six years old again, his mother waving her finger at him before putting her hands on her hips with a little shake of her head.
“You know why I’m here, right?“
With his eyes closed, he blew the air out of his lungs and hugged his knees to make himself smaller.
“You shouldn’t make her cry all the time. She’s trying her best. You know that.“ She laughed a little, wrecked with hurt and gratefulness. “She’s here for you when we can’t be. She didn’t lie about that.“
Her fingers brushed through his unruly hair with a hum.
“I see you painted one of your walls. Did Sakura-chan help you?“
All at once, the tightness was back tenfold. He clutched his legs and the fabric rustled under his tight grip. His fingers cramped.
Mother sighed. “He won’t be gone forever. He can’t live without you either, baby. You’ll see,“ she murmured and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Be patient. He’ll be back in no time.“
His bottom lip quivered and he bit it hard enough to draw blood.
“I miss him,“ he breathed out like a man dying and mother laughed, wrecked with anguish.
“Oh, I know, baby, I know, but you’re not the only one, okay?“
She’s missing him too, she didn’t say — didn’t needed to either. He knew it. He just couldn’t imagine Sakura or anyone else missing him more than he ever did. Nobody was missing him more than that. He’s missing him like air, the first breath of fresh ocean air. Clear and refreshing.
And every breath after, keeping him alive and living.
—
He dreamed of a big, big lake and cheerful laughter.
He’s peaceful.
—
He woke up with wet cheeks and the dream slowly slipping away in the fog of awareness.
He’s in agony.
—
He forgot about the dream, the moment, he opened his eyes for the brightness of the sun.
He’s livid.
—
He flipped his breakfast tray and smashed his room like his own personal rage room. He screamed, screamed and screamed, until he lost his voice to his anger and tears, and fell back into bed in exhaustion afterwards.
All that was left was a vague feeling of happiness, violently ripped away from his body, and the cold emptiness that dropped him to unconsciousness.
—
“She cleaned everything up for you.“
He squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his hands over his ears.
It didn’t stop his older brother from talking. Why should it, when it never did before?
“You can be happy, free from anguish, if you stopped hiding from the truth.“
He recoiled like someone punched him in the stomach and instead of a battle cry, a burst of loud laughter escaped his dry throat. He opened his wet eyes, wanted to scream and shout, wanted to fight his brother, but the room was empty. Nobody was there.
He was alone with replaced furniture and a single bright orange painted wall.
—
He almost mentioned Itachi’s truly magical disappearance act to Sakura, but then he didn’t.
Instead, he accepted the plate of food and ate with shaky limbs. He drank the glass of water and a cup of chamomile tea. Sakura watched him carefully.
“Let’s go out today,“ she ordered and grabbed the plate from his hands. “I think the fresh air will do us both good.“
He couldn’t remember the last time he left his bedroom. If he had to look at the same four walls any longer, he’d slowly get stir-crazy.
He nodded. “Okay.“
“Okay,“ she repeated and helped him shower and into clean clothes without the slightest blush on her cheeks. The whole time, her expression was carefully blank.
—
Sakura held on to his arm with an unnaturally chipper smile, and laughed obnoxiously loud about nothing. She straightened his hair with her fingers, before she ruffled it almost violently, just to go back to flattening it out again. She almost poked his eyes out in the process, and only stopped, when they reached the exit.
“Sorry, sorry,“ she lied with a smile and pulled him through the open door. “Let’s walk around in the sun.“
It was summer.
He wasn’t sure why he expected it to be any other season than summer, when it was the sun that woke him up every day and the endless bright sky that lulled him back to sleep.
The fire ball was on its highest point, telling him it was midday, and no cloud disturbed the beautiful sky.
The air was dry, almost too hot with each inhale, but the fresh air filled his lungs, expanded the organ before flowing out through his mouth again. It was refreshing, the change of scenery.
Sakura guided him over the lawn to a lovely park with picnic benches. Unsurprisingly, they were already occupied by a lot of people. Little groups of two or three spread out over the green grass and enjoyed the good weather with a book or talking to their white cladded company.
They settled under a big tree, protected by its full bloom of leaves. It was nice in the shade, even better than in the direct sun. The grass was cool to the touch and Sasuke brushed his fingers over the almost forgotten tickling touch with closed eyes.
Sakura stopped talking, stopped touching him, and Sasuke listened to the birds and quiet chatter of his surroundings. He couldn’t make out more than a few words at a time, but it was a nice distraction. Nicer than the radio in his room.
He had no idea how much time they spend outside, but with each added minute he felt the tension leaving his body. The strained muscles in his neck and shoulders relaxed and he breathed out after each one, two, three.
One, two, three — out.
One, two, three — out.
One, two, three and he spoke the words everybody expected of him and he still ignored. But they had never felt truer, had never felt better to say then now — the warm sun shining on his dear friend and himself.
“Thank you, Sakura.“
Her breath hitched and she swallowed audible. Her voice was thick with emotion, choking her. He imagined her green eyes filled with tears, but he didn’t dare to look over and stared at the green leaves instead.
“You’re welcome, Sasuke-kun.“
—
She dropped him off at his room and said goodbye for work. A slight redness was on her face and he wasn’t sure if it was from the sun or his words, but she skipped down the hallway in happiness nonetheless.
The room didn’t feel as suffocating as before either and he sat down on the floor, his back to his bed, and stared at the orange paint.
It was easier this time. Easier to stop, easier to start again.
He grabbed a book from the shelf and started to read, squinting at the wall every few minutes or so.
—
There was a persistent knock at his bedroom door. Nothing like Sakura’s, nothing like his mother’s. Itachi rarely knocked more than once, loved entering right away and catch him in embarrassing positions more than anything. And father had never knocked on his door even once in his life, not to mention entered it.
He frowned confused and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. His bedroom was still dark, but light shone through the door gap, casting the room in soft rays of light.
“What?“ He grumbled loudly and the knocking stopped, before a warm voice answered playfully. “Is this your new answering machine?“ A beat of silence, before the man repeated in an award-winning rough imitation of his own voice: “A ’what?’“
His stomach twisted and his heartbeat skipped a beat, before re-doubling its effort of keeping him alive.
“Naruto?“ He asked breathless, hardly any sound to his voice. “Is that—?“
“—me?“ He finished the sentence with smug laughter. “Are you expecting anyone else at 4 a.m., bastard?“
The weight fell off his shoulders, sudden and uncomplicated, and Sasuke huffed amused.
“Idiot,“ he huffed fond under his breath and pushed the comforter to the side to get up from bed. He opened the door to Naruto’s bright sheepish smile, brighter than anything Sasuke had seen lately.
Naruto didn’t change one bit. Blond hair, bright blue eyes and terrible fashion taste.
“How did you get inside the apartment, idiot?“
The dimples in his cheeks deepened as he lifted the key Sasuke gave him two years ago.
“I’m so glad you asked, Sasuke, but I still have your spare. Surprise! Can you imagine the embarrassment of entering some random dude’s apartment with the key you gave me? Talk about awkward.“
“I think they would have changed the locks if I refused to give back a key.“
“Well, I’m glad you didn’t move out then.“
Sasuke shook his head and pushed his hair out of his face, smiling softly. “I can’t believe you. What are you even doing here?“
“Hey! Are you complaining, bastard?“
Naruto puffed out his cheeks in indignation. He even pursed his lips a little, making them unbelievable kissable, but his crinkled eyes betrayed the amusement.
Sasuke leaned against the frame of his door. “No, never.“
“I know, you’re lying,“ Naruto grumbled with his hands on his hips. “You always complain about me.“
“I do, but it’s good complaining.“
A smile fought its way up Naruto’s face, twitching, before spreading wide. “Well, I complain about you too.“
“Do you now?“ He questioned with a smirk.
He almost forgot how to smile, how to banter, how to live without Naruto in his orbit. But he’s back, finally back. Naruto came back home. He decided to come back to him.
Naruto hummed. “I complain a lot about you.“
“Sounds a lot like missing me, when you say it like that.“
An unreadable expression replaced the joy. “I did— do miss you, Sasuke. Everyday of my life.“
He wanted to be coldhearted and unapproachable, but his heart squeezed from their separation. “I miss you too.“
Naruto reached out with his hand, palm up, with a relieved smile. “Come with me. I have a surprise for you.“
Sasuke huffed a laugh, but reached for the hand. “The last time you said that, we had sand in places sand doesn’t belong.“
The face in front of him reddened in seconds and Naruto spluttered with a whine. “We—We don’t talk about that incident anymore, Sas’ke.“
“Mhh, the true meaning of sex on the—“
Naruto’s hand stopped him from finishing the sentence and he laughed into the hand pressed on his mouth.
“Come on, let’s gooo.“
Sasuke rolled his eyes and pushed the hand away. “Okay, okay, you baby, let’s go.“
They walked down the long hallway, down the exit, over the green lawn and through the gate to the open streets. Naruto pulled him forward for what felt like hours. His feet were tired, untrained to walk for such a long time, but before he had the chance to speak, familiar hills turned up on the horizon.
He blinked, furrowed his brows at the something tickling the back of his mind.
Naruto continued to pull him along until a familiar big, big lake reflecting the sunrise appeared in front of them.
Naruto turned around with a goofy smile and showed of the location with his free arm.
“Happy anniversary, bastard.“
All at once, he’s nineteen and in love again.
His breath got caught in his chest, butterflies erupted from the depths of his stomach and a big smile spread on his lips. But in turn, the corner of Naruto’s lips sunk, lower and lower, before his expression turned serious.
Something like independent doom coiled in Sasuke’s stomach, growing heavier and heavier, pushing love to the side. He wanted to speak up, but his voice was gone.
“Do hate me, Sasuke?“
No sound left his throat. He moved his lips, but Naruto continued to talk.
“Do you hate me for leaving you behind?“
Sasuke froze.
—
Sasuke’s eight years old, when he first met Naruto. A loud-mouthed brat, who didn’t fit in anywhere. An orphan, who talked too loud, who drew attention with jokes and pranks. Someone that didn’t have any manners. He didn’t like him, but nobody liked him.
Sasuke’s ten years old, when he finally realized Naruto was much more than that. Yes, he was idiotic and loud, but true to his heart. So honest and kind, it must hurt. He helped, helped, helped, and Sasuke slowly realized, nobody showed gratitude to the kindness. He was always brushed aside.
Sasuke’s still ten years old, when he followed his own curiosity to talk back. To say ‘hello’, ’good bye’ and ‘thank you’ just like his mother taught him. It didn’t have the desired effect. They fought. They fought a lot.
Sasuke’s twelve years old, when he decided Naruto was the next best thing after sliced tomatoes. Every time they played, Naruto’s cheeks exploded from the wide toothy smile. Sasuke was mesmerized. Sakura turned green in envy, but accepted him in their little circle of friendship anyway. (“Everything for Sasuke-kun.“)
Sasuke’s fifteen years old, when he realized he’s not only gay but he’s extremely, excessivelygay for Naruto. He didn’t plan to tell anyone, but Sakura caught him ogling the really impressive abs Naruto sprouted thanks to gym class. She didn’t cry, she didn’t throw a hissy fit. She laughed, because, finally, you know how it feels to be in love.
Sasuke’s seventeen years old, when he kissed Naruto for the first time. Naruto blushed to the darkest red he had ever seen, spluttered incoherently, completely taken by surprise by the love confession that Sasuke blurt out unexpectedly after he couldn’t keep the lid on his jealously anymore. (Fuck her. Fuck Hinata.)
Sasuke’s seventeen years old, when Naruto kissed him back after months of pining.
Sasuke’s still seventeen years old, when they groped in the bathroom.
Sasuke’s still seventeen years old, when he put his mouth on him.
Sasuke’s eighteen years old, when they made love for the first time.
Sasuke’s nineteen years old and in love. So much in love. He was ready to throw everything away for one person. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with Naruto — with his favorite idiot.
Sasuke’s twenty years old, happy, so much happier he had ever been. He had Naruto and he had Sakura. No one else was important. No one else mattered. Everyone else was already dead. But he had his mother’s old marriage ring and got down on one knee. Not for a blowjob, but a proposal to spend infinity together. Naruto said yes. Sasuke gave him a blowjob, because he was already on his knees anyway.
Sasuke’s still twenty-one years old, when Naruto died. He’s still so very much in love and ready to throw everything away for something stupid like love. But he was ready to end everything, was ready for infinity with his fiancé. He didn’t die. Sakura saved him. He hated her, hated her, hated her so much for something he would have done too, because he wouldn’t be able to bear loneliness either.
Sasuke’s still twenty-one years old, when he experienced his first psychosis and lands in the psych ward for attempting suicide; almost succeeding too.
Sasuke’s twenty-two years old, when he experienced his second psychosis and his dead family turned up alive again. It was unbearable. It was perfect. He lost contact to reality and lived in a fantasy world, where everyone was alive every once in a while — sometimes more, sometimes less.
Sakura finished her doctorate and basically moved in as his primary doctor. He still hated her for a love he never returned. Something she never held a grudge for. She just wanted her friend back, she didn’t want to loose another.
Sasuke’s twenty-three years old, when his worldview crumbled to thousand pieces. Sakura was there again.
—
Sakura hugged him close. Impossible close. It hurt. It hurt to be alive. She struggled to breathe. Her skin was sticky from sweat. She probably ran all the way here, all the way to him to this stupid, stupid lake where everything began, where every good memory was harbored. And she was still stupid too. Stupid enough to run after the escaped inmate of a psych-ward. Her best friend.
She pulled back with red rimmed, glassy eyes, her face blotchy from crying.
“Are you okay?“
“Am I mad?“
She didn’t stiffen, she didn’t recoil in terror, and didn’t burst into another crying fit either. He would have preferred everything to her wistful smile, gentle and genuinely guilt-stricken from acceptance.
He closed his eyes at the tenderness in her smile and eyes.
“You’re going to be okay, Sasuke-kun,“ she said quietly and poked him on the forehead, familiar and intimate, before brushing his hair out of his face to hide it. “It’s going to be okay,“ she repeated choked-up and pressed a short-lived kiss to his temple. “I’m still here. I’m not leaving you. You still have me. Please, let it be enough.“
Sleep came fast and unforgiving, the darkness swallowed him whole.
—
He woke up in an empty room, three walls white, one wall orange.
His mother hummed in the kitchen as she cooked, the sweet aroma of stir-up mixing with the smell of life and death, underlined with the faint unmistakable scent of antiseptics.
Sakura opened the door with a wide smile, her green eyes puffy and her face blotchy.
Sasuke cried, because the hole Naruto left behind was too big to fill again.
Sasuke’s still twenty-three years old, when he lost his marbles again.
Sakura was still there to help her only friend.