Sakura hears a knock on the door of her one-bedroom apartment. She lives alone there. The rent is cheap, not that she’s hurting for money. It’s situated next to a newly-constructed railway, and when the train cars go by, her walls vibrate and the low noise hums over all the other noises in her world. She sort of finds it comforting, truth be told. There are few constants in her life, the train being one. She hears it every half hour, and it’s rarely late. She counts out how long it lasts, always thirty-six seconds.
She opens the door to see Sasuke standing there with a brown paper bag. She had no idea he would be in town. Her symptoms are: dry mouth, increased heart rate, redness in her face, and sudden irregular breath. If she were a patient, she’d say that such a dramatic change in the sympathetic nervous system would have to be treated immediately. But she’s not a patient.
“Sasuke,” she says, surprise in her voice. She stands aside and he lets himself in. She hears the train approaching, but it’s rumble does nothing to drown out her heart palpitations. She counts out the seconds like they’re an affirmation.
“That’s annoying,” Sasuke says, almost to himself, when the train has passed. “I got you something on my way here.”
He offers her the paper bag, and she opens it, finding a few macaroons. The gesture touches her heart deeply. She imagines him on his way to her, stopping at a bakery, picking out flavors he thought she might like. It’s so uncharacteristic of him. It was probably Naruto who told him to do it. She smiles all the same, her blush returning.
“That’s very sweet, thank you,” she says, putting a kettle on the stove. “Would you like some tea?”
“Yes, thank you,” he answers, sitting at her table. She brings out the tea and two cups, pouring one for each of them, and sits.
“When did you arrive?” Sakura asks as mildly as she can. She often feels like she’s extending her hand to a tentative animal in the forest. One that will sprint away if she makes any sudden moves. One that scares easy. One that she’s desperate to tame.
“A few hours ago. I spoke to Kakashi and Naruto before I came here,” he answers. She takes a delicate bite out of one of the cookies, looking unsurprised. She knew this had to have been Naruto’s idea. She was thankful Sasuke had gone through with giving her something, though. She could see him buying the macaroons to placate Naruto before they parted ways and, embarrassed and awkward, throwing them in a trash can on the sidewalk before coming to see her.
“Will you be staying the night?” Sakura asks. She knows that might be just a hair too far. She sees panic in his eyes. She has scared the wild animal, stepped on a twig. He’d sensed her wanting him too ardently. She tenses up for the inevitable.
“I have to return to my mission,” he says slowly, like she should know that already.
“You must want to sleep in an actual bed. What can I do to get you to change your mind?” Sakura answers, keeping her tone light so as not to frighten him off.
“Hm,” he says, moving so close to her that she feels his eyelashes against her cheeks as he blinks. “Show me this bed.”
She finds herself beneath him five minutes later. They had undressed each other quickly and hadn’t really participated in any foreplay besides the fervent kiss she had placed on his mouth as she walked him to her bedroom and his hand caressing her breast. She didn’t need foreplay this time around, really. She had been wet since she saw him standing in her doorway. It would have been nice, but Sasuke isn’t really one for unnecessary detours. She doesn’t mind when he comes before her. She’s just happy that he’s here.
She walks to the bathroom. Urination after sexual intercourse greatly reduces the chances of getting a urinary tract infection. When she returns, he’s gone. She locks her door and looks wistfully at the two teacups on the table.
“I should clean up,” she mumbles to herself as the train approaches. It had only been thirty minutes since he’d arrived, she realizes. She counts out the seconds, hoping he’s still close enough to hear it too. She looks out her window to watch the machine whiz past, and she considers just how many avenues exist in the world to take him far away from her. She shifts her gaze up to the moon and wonders if he’s looking at it, too, as he flies through the trees outside the village, getting farther and farther by the second.