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Rating: T Fandom: Naruto Relationship: Haruno Sakura/Uchiha Sasuke Characters: Haruno Sakura, Uchiha Sasuke With the Uchiha, Sakura had grown up. After the bloody battle in which her grandfather and father had lost their lives and the Haruno clan had met its end, what at the time was only a little girl of not even six years old was welcomed within the castle walls as a guest, as a hostage.

Initially it had been necessary to prevent those still loyal to the Haruno from taking her into custody and thus claiming rights to the territories which had once belonged to the clan and that, following defeat, had been annexed by the Uchiha.

Then, as the years passed whatever semblance of influence her name might still have had had waned, largely due to the swift and steep rise of the Uchiha clan, which could now boast control of ten of the largest provinces in the entire country, the only ones able to rival against the current ruling family.

She was no longer a valuable hostage, but despite this she had continued to live in the castle, actively participating in everything related to the clan but never really being a part of it. Ostracized and estranged, Sakura had longed to be able to feel that she belonged to something, that she was not a single particle of something which now no longer existed, floating in nothingness, with no ties, no identity.

The possibility of being welcomed and accepted, rather than simply tolerated, had manifested itself when she had shown marked skills in combat and, with them, a desire to be able to learn, the latter ignited initially by the futile and childish motivations of a little girl eager not to lose her playmate once she reached the age when their gender difference would inevitably lead them to entertain themselves with distinctly opposite activities.

When one is a child, clans, territories, politics and power do not matter. She and Sasuke were not members of what had once been enemy clans. Sakura was not his prisoner. Sasuke did not see her as a means to be used. They were just kids, peers who lived in the same castle and therefore had naturally sought each other out and united, in the most spontaneous way possible.

"Why did you summon me?" The dark-haired was behind her back, thus purposefully choosing not to show her his figure, his face. Sakura was gracefully seated on the floor, knees bent and sitting composedly on her heels. Her gaze was turned before her.

"I heard about the request you made," Sasuke explained, although those words contained no real elucidation.

It was only natural the news would quickly reach his ears. The choice to train as a warrior naturally had implications, namely that those skills of hers would sooner or later be made available to the clan. Not that Sakura had anything against this. To fight and die for something would have meant being a part of it, feeling finally integrated, respected.

And she had done so by demonstrating great prowess in her exploits, distinguishing herself on more than one occasion on the battlefield, proving herself several times essential to achieving victory. This had secured her a certain fame, as well as the favor of Madara Uchiha, the current head of the clan. Probably having grown up in the castle had been essential to that last point, for the man's policy had roots precisely in the importance of relying on what was near and known, distrusting instead the rest. Sakura was not an Uchiha by name or blood, but alienated from what was outside the clan she had grown up with those precepts, so harpooned by the only reality she knew that she became loyal to the core. The affection accrued for certain family members, Sasuke especially, had only fostered the entrenchment of what would arose in any case, something which obviously those who ruled the clan could take advantage of.

"That doesn't answer my question, though," Sakura retorted, clenching her fists against her knees. The past few months had not been particularly easy. Not only were they in the midst of a siege which, if successfully ended, would guarantee them a crushing and essential victory, the annexation of new territory, and a new step toward total supremacy, but the dark-haired's behavior was proving unpleasant and confused.

It seemed almost as if the closer Sakura came to what she had been craving since childhood, the chance to have her own identity, the more Sasuke decided to distance himself from her, perhaps even unknowingly. That was why she had requested of Madara Uchiha that her position be changed, that she could leave the siege to join the army to the west, assembled for battle. And that was why being summoned by the dark-haired had taken her by surprise.

"You cannot make these kinds of decisions without consulting with me." At his words, Sakura barely tilted her head sideways, not sufficient to make out even part of his figure, but enough to show she was listening to him and that what she was hearing did not please her at all. "I'm in charge of this army. Not you."

"I never questioned this." She could not understand what the animosity shown by Sasuke stemmed from, when in the past they had been so close. It was a painful detachment but probably only for her. She had been extremely happy when with her small contingent she had been chosen to add to the troops under the dark-haired's command. The intimacy they had would have made the collaboration smooth and flowing. Or at least that was what she had believed and hoped. The reality of things was turning out to be quite different.

"You did that, bypassing me to address your foolish request directly to Madara." This was not a choice he could make without confronting the clan leader, so why would she let Sasuke intercede when she herself could have presented her proposal to the man? "He refused," the dark-haired then concluded, with what seemed to her to be a hint of satisfaction.

"Why?" Wasn't it more essential for the bulk of the forces to move into the open field, with a battle coming, than to stay there and take part in a siege whose outcome was now a foregone conclusion? Sakura was a skilled warrior, not to mention that her contingent could boast just under three thousand men; no small addition which could have sealed the fate of the battle.

"Because I told him it’s necessary for you to remain here," Sasuke explained, with the naturalness and resolve of one who was convinced of his words, of one who was certain he was acting in the right.

"Why, Sasuke?" asked Sakura again, unable to appear indifferent and composed, unable to prevent perplexity and annoyance from oozing through her words, from imbuing her tone of voice. "The siege is now in its last throes. You have already won, you don't need me here."

"That is not for you to decide. You are not here to strategize, to determine how and where to deploy warriors. You are here to fight." It almost seemed as if Sasuke was deliberately trying to provoke her, to make her lose her temper to the point of exploding.

"There is nothing to fight here," she pointed out to him, still keeping her fists clenched. It was not easy to remain completely still when her mood was altered. She longed to move, to give vent to her frustration with gestures rather than flaunt stiffness and composure.

"I don't care about your opinion. The decision is made and irreversible," Sasuke sanctioned, as lapidary as he was detached, really like a general intent on giving orders to one of his subordinates and not even one of valor, one to be preserved, but as if she were a soldier of the lowest possible rank.

"Why are you doing this, Sasuke? What have I done to you?" As was to be expected, Sakura was unable to maintain the detachment which with gestures the dark-haired himself had demanded, almost as if their bond was worthless, as if it had never existed. It was impossible for her, just as it was inconceivable to let him speak to her like that without asking for an explanation, to allow their relationship to slip away without confronting him before giving up.

"You overestimate yourself if you think there is something personal behind my decision. It's pure military strategy." At that point, not blurting out completely for the pink-haired was unimaginable. In fact, heedless of manners, composure and etiquette, Sakura got to her feet, turning to face the man standing behind her.

"Is that why you won't even look me in the face while talking to me?" Some of her anger and resentment faded as she found herself mirrored in those familiar dark eyes. Only for a few moments, however, as her anguish easily regained the upper hand when Sakura discerned anything but indifference in them, as if he felt nothing at all.

"I don't need to look at your face to give you orders. We are not equals. I ask and you obey." It seemed to her that she was looking and listening to a complete stranger, someone she was unable to recognize. That was not the Sasuke with whom she had grown up, with whom she had shared childhood and youth, joys and sorrows, frivolities and ideologies. That was not the Sasuke who would sneak into her room on stormy nights to hold the hand of the little girl terrified of painful memories resurfacing. He was not the Sasuke who had planted a cherry tree for her in the castle gardens so the pink of the petals might no longer make her feel so unique as to be an outsider. He was not the Sasuke who, on the evening before their first battle, had given Sakura her naginata as a gift together with her first kiss, with the promise that the next day they would see each other and find each other again, unharmed and safe. The Sasuke with whom she had been madly in love seemed to have vanished. In those cold, detached eyes there was not even a hint of him.

"What happened to you?" A question addressed more to herself than to the dark-haired and one she certainly did not expect him to answer. In fact, Sakura merely lowered her gaze, her fists still clenched in anger, but this time employing all her strength to keep the tears from streaking her face.

"I just understood the way of our world. It's time you began to do so too, Sakura," he pronounced her name in a way too familiar, too intimate; a mistake he evidently realized himself. The young pink-haired lifted her gaze abruptly, managing to catch just in time the slight lapse Sasuke had unintentionally fallen victim to and was quickly recovering from.

"What is this supposed to mean?" She decided that perhaps pressing the issue might lead him to surrender completely, to return to expressing himself to her as he had once done, intimately and naturally, aware that no one would be able to understand him, and perhaps hearten him, more than Sakura.

"I have finished with you. You can go," Sasuke sanctioned, again shrugging off the indifference he had displayed up to that moment, quickly leaving behind that semblance of humanity he had demonstrated, as if it had never happened.

"You may force me to stay, Sasuke, but you cannot impose me to stay away from you, to stop asking you for explanations. If you won't talk to me, if you won't even look at me, if you no longer have an ounce of respect for me, why don't you just let me go? Free yourself of my tedious presence and free me of what you have become." So that she could at least treasure what had been, keep that precious memory in her heart, without being corrupted by coldness, indifference and a resentment which she never thought could ever arise between them.

"I can't," the dark-haired concluded, frowning and curving his lips downward, evidently as vexed with himself as he was with her. "So stop making things harder and grow up."

"Am I the one who needs to grow up, between us? Or perhaps is the one who doesn't even have the courage to speak plainly to me, preferring to hide behind his rank, making a shield of his name and position to treat me as just another servant, as if that could erase—"

"What do you know about courage, Sakura?" he asked her, approaching her with a gesture so quick that she could barely feel the air shift, cupping her face between the fingers of his right hand, voluntarily trapping her jade irises with his own. "It is so much easier to be the one standing there judging and criticizing, heedless of what is going on around. It’s the other who has the hard choice. It’s the other who must have the courage to act for the best of both."

Sakura was taken aback not only by the swiftness with which he had reached her or the sudden closeness of their bodies, but also and especially by his words, which were as enigmatic in meaning as they were explicit. Grow up, he had just told her. And for Sasuke, growing up meant accepting the reality of the world in which they lived, where rules and precepts trumped instincts and feelings, where the continual pursuit of power, where honoring one's clan, was all that required their efforts, all that they had to vow their existence to.

Sakura had always been convinced she was ready for it, that it was all she wanted, that she needed nothing more than to feel she could belong to something, that her own efforts could prove useful to someone, that her worthiness, her existence as an individual, would be recognized.

"That is not courage," she whispered to him, bringing her hands to his chest, tightening her fingers around the fine fabric of his dark kosode. "It's resignation."

Almost as if moved by some unknown force which guided his gestures more than reason did, the dark-haired leaned forward a few inches, close enough to brush her face with his warm breath. Sakura closed her eyes, begging her body and soul not to delude itself with shivers of anticipation of something the man before her, the Sasuke he had become, could not and wouldnot grant.

"Resign yourself, too, then." And immediately after uttering those words, that sentence, Sasuke turned away from her, again sanctioning distance, condemning her to that sense of emptiness, to the coldness which his reticence inflicted on her entire figure, almost as if without the warmth the dark-haired could offer her, her blood refused to circulate.

Abandoned and alone, Sakura watched him walk away, distancing himself with body and heart, determined to continue according to what he had stubbornly imposed on himself and what he was selfishly forcing on her, pretending it was a last act of love and not simply the cowardice of a man unable to demand what he most viscerally desired.

"I will," the pink-haired assured him, whose little newfound resolve could not at all overpower and conceal her being hurt, upset, and anguished not only for herself, for the pain she was the one to feel, but also for the torment Sasuke was inflicting on himself, shouldering the burden he believed he had to bear and do so alone, without her. "If you will let me leave."

Sasuke suddenly stopped, yet continued to have his back to her. He was willing to distance himself from Sakura, to treat her with detachment and sufficiency, but he was equally not ready to deprive himself of her completely. Keeping her there within his grasp, yet without really seeking her out. To satisfy at least part of his innermost needs, even at the cost of inflicting on her the pain which having him there without really having him was causing her. And if Sasuke had chosen that path, Sakura would force him to walk it all the way, without shortcuts, without loopholes, without even the slightest smear.

"Do as you wish," the dark-haired granted her, after moments of silence, long instants of hesitation and doubt. She had naively hoped he would retrace his steps, that the clean and final cut was too much even for him, and that he would therefore choose to end the bosh. Instead, Sasuke had not wavered, sanctioning his decision by walking away and leaving her alone in that room, just as she would be from then on.

---

Sakura never imagined that, sooner or later, she would find herself seated at a war council, as a silent but welcome guest of a feudal lord. Not that she did not possess the merits, but whatever others might say, Sakura was not a fool and was not completely unaware of what an unpleasant reality the world she lived in was.

She was a woman. She was a skilled warrior, sure, a convenient and useful addition to one's army, but that was not enough to make her in the eyes of the men who daily surrounded her an equal to them. In fact, seated at the same table, they looked at her with suspicion, some even outraged at having to share that space with her, almost as if their lord was mocking them.

Seated at the head of the table, Madara Uchiha seemed to be untouched, as if the constant stares directed at him did not bother him in the least. Knowing him, that must really have been the case. He had never allowed the judgment of others to affect the way he ruled, following his own line, placing his decisions above those of anyone else. Whether others agreed or disagreed was irrelevant when it was his word which was absolute.

It was different for Sakura. She was unable to pretend the looks she received did not upset her. She felt tremendously out of place there and even found herself wishing the Uchiha clan leader had never summoned her.

They had been back in Otogakure no Sato for a little over a month, after their success against the combined forces of Senju and Uzumaki at the Battle of Amegakure no Sato, which had allowed the Uchiha to annex the area into their domains. The latter's power continued to grow by leaps and bounds, so it was not implausible to assume they would soon be able to oust the current ruling family, thus sanctioning the end of that war with the beginning of a new era.

"I propose the next move is to move directly on Hi no Kuni. After the resounding defeat, the Senju will have no way to defend themselves."

"I think we should first reorganize our forces. Now that we are certain we have the upper hand, we should not act rashly. The slightest mistake could be fatal to us."

"What mistake? Victory is now in our grasp! We must strike fast and hard, showing no mercy to the enemy! Only in this way will we ensure in the future no one will dare to face us."

Sakura naturally remained silent, listening to the exchange between the senior officers of the Uchiha army. Although she had been invited to participate, she was certain her own opinion should not be expressed and that certainly no one would be willing to listen.

Even Madara had chosen to tacitly assimilate the words of the other men present, expressionless and motionless, almost as if to give the idea he was not even present in the room. Yet the aura of authority emanating was impossible to ignore. It exuded from every fiber of his imposing and menacing figure, reaching out without fail to all present, and even the most massive men were intimidated by it, and no one dared to seek his gaze, even to seek approval.

"The Senju are not to be underestimated. How do you think they came to be the ruling family, despite all the insurrections of the last century?"

"Even they cannot hope to hold out any longer, not after—"

"I plan to seal a truce with the Senju." Everyone fell silent, hushed by the rumbling voice of the man seated at the head of the table. They appeared like frightened children, but that was before the implications of Madara's statement hit them, fostering astonishment and surprise.

"A truce— my lord?" Only one of them had the courage to ask, uncertain and hesitant. Perhaps he thought he had guessed wrongly, for there was nothing more unexpected than such a decision. It had been about four years since the conflict with the Senju had been going on, with occasional moments of respite, but with tempers always flaring. And the Uchiha had never been able to claim such a clear and overwhelming advantage as they did at that moment. An armistice was indeed unthinkable.

"I have already established contact with Hashirama. One of their representatives will be here in a few weeks," the clan leader continued, untouched by the looks of sheer bewilderment the men present ventured to reserve for him, as if their lord had been replaced by a mythological creature.

"But with the successful siege of Tetsu no Kuni there will be twelve provinces under our control. By now it can be said that the nation is ours—"

Sakura barely flinched from her position, fortunately without attracting anyone's gaze, without the witnesses being able to catch her discomfort, too caught up in the astonishment caused by that new twist. The end of the siege not only sanctioned a victory on the part of the Uchiha but also the imminent return of the troops stationed up to that moment near Tetsu no Kuni, that is, the contingent of the army that was led by Sasuke.

Their last discussion had been final and had sanctioned a definitive and irreversible parting of ways. They had never spoken again, and Sakura had left the siege to join the rest of the army and take part in the battle of Amegakure no Sato. A void which not even the time passed had been able to fill. Having now the knowledge what had been would never return, she had mistakenly believed that resigning herself would be easier. Instead, just evoking even the slightest memory of him was capable of inflicting a stabbing pain in her chest, more agonizing than any wound suffered on the battlefield.

Sakura was certain, however, that this would even be amplified once she and Sasuke found themselves in the same castle again. In those months apart, the dark-haired had been a constant thought, but not having him constantly nearby could be considered something of a palliative. With his presence everything would have been more complicated. Close and yet distant, Sakura would have to suppress the desire and need to make up for that imposed distance and still seek him out.

"It is," conceded Madara, still motionless and inscrutable, his arms joined to his chest. "That is why Hashirama has sought a truce, an agreement which will turn almost entirely in our favor."

If the right terms for a peace had been reached, Sakura was of the opinion it was right to pursue it, rather than to continue in a bloody conflict, suffering more loss of precious lives, only out of pride and desire to establish a hegemony based on terror.

"The Senju have never compromised so far and have never needed to seek alliances. It has always been others who have begged them for protection. What would be different this time? They may be in trouble, but they remain the ruling family. They have their honor. To grant peace without anything in return would undermine their dignity. It would be preferable to losing on the battlefield to this." Fugaku Uchiha was a man of few words, just like his son, so that he had expressed his thoughts with such minuteness and in such detail was unusual. So was the look, so quick as to appear unnoticed by anyone, which he reserved for her, before refocusing his attention on what was not only his lord but also his brother-in-law.

"An extremely correct analysis, Fugaku. However, not flawless. It just so happened in the past it was the Senju themselves who sought an alliance, and to this day the Uzumaki are the only ones who enjoy every privilege that being considered equal to the ruling family grants them."

"That was a single case. The only way the Senju use to establish that kind of bond is—"

"Marriage," Madara finished, interrupting one of the generals who had intervened in the speech. "With Hashirama's heir, his brother," he resumed, fostering the amazement of those present, whose eyes were now widened.

"We do not have enough valuable brides to warrant the respect of the Senju. They are just using this pretext to buy time with a false truce and attack us as soon as they are ready."

Madara Uchiha had never taken a wife and fathered neither sons nor daughters. Having no siblings, his direct heir was therefore his brother-in-law, the husband of his sister. Mikoto Uchiha was rumored to have been the clan's most coveted bride, and Sakura had no difficulty believing it, not only because of her beauty but also because of the position the man designated would hold. Two children had been born of that union, both boys, so there was no woman who could represent a marriage desirable and valuable enough to enshrine a peace with her existence alone. Those whose kinship was closer to the main branch of the clan were not enough for such a pledge.

"We have the most precious bride one could wish for instead. The Delight of Spring, the most beautiful flower which blooms on the battlefields." The realization of those words did not immediately strike her, but when it did it had the same impact as a bucket of icy water.

It was only natural that in the course of time Sakura had begun to acquire a certain fame among the armies and therefore was given epithets of all kinds, flattering and otherwise. A woman warrior was not, however, something recurrent in battle, so her presence was often easily recognized, thanks in part to her very distinctive features.

She understood, therefore, that Madara Uchiha was talking about her and imagined that was the only reason he had decided to allow her to attend the war council, along with the senior officers.

"She is not even an Uchiha, so why should he represent our clan with the Senju?" Words Sakura had heard directly or whispered behind her back which always managed to make her feel estranged and alone, never really part of anything.

"She grew up with us, fought with us. My sister loves her like a daughter, so it's time for her to act like one, with all the burdens which come with that. Sakura is part of the family, and if I have turned down every marriage proposal received for her, from those present included, it is precisely in anticipation of the arrival of a suitor suited to her value. I could never have wasted such beauty and strength on anyone who was not worthy of it."

Sakura lowered her gaze to her closed fists pressed against her knees. She had never really felt part of the Uchiha, so the clan leader's words should only have brought her joy. However, denting her happiness, her fulfillment at having succeeded at least in part in finding a place to belong, was the knowledge she would have to separate herself from the family she did not believe would ever consider her as such, that she would have to devolve her future to another person, to a man foreign to that core to which the pink-haired had vowed herself since childhood.

In her heart, then, there was only room for one name, one face, one individual. And it was only by his side that she would have wished to embrace the role of wife. Sakura had never considered such a chance feasible, so she had always ruled out the possibility of being able to marry in the future. It was not what she wanted, but now it was not what she could oppose. The role she had sought all her life had been established. If in order to consider herself part of something, an Uchiha, she had to sacrifice all of herself for the good of the clan, she would do it.

---

She was in her rooms, wrapped in a veil of sadness whose nature she knew but which she was trying to ignore, not to allow anything negative to poison her mind and risk dulling her judgment. Her wedding was to take place the next morning, thus marking the end of the conflict between Senju and Uchiha, along with the beginning of what was hoped would be a long and fruitful alliance, that the two clans could coexist as equals, sharing the power they had over the years mutually tried to wrest from each other's hands.

It was a night not freezing but cold enough to make her shiver on the porch. Still, she did not want to go back inside, did not want to slip between her sheets, did not want to allow sleep to take over, for the moment her eyes opened, she would be a new person, a protagonist of power intrigue. Before her would be a new road to travel. Behind her would be everything to which she would no longer belong.

She clutched herself in her night robe, letting a lonely tear line her face. The only relenting she could allow herself and only in the privacy of her own rooms, there where she would be for the last time, as dawn would bring with it a new home, a new name, a new life.

Whether she wanted to or not, her viridian eyes could not budge from the towering cherry tree which towered in the castle's inner gardens, among those avenues that held every memory of her childhood, every precious moment etched in her mind, in her heart, along with a face and a name.

"Sakura—" It almost seemed to her she could even hear his voice, as if her mind was playing a sadistic trick on her, reminding of all that had been and all that could never be again, just when those memories should have remained locked away in the deepest corners of her memory, sealed never to see the light again. "Sakura." When the pink-haired turned around, she could swear she was going crazy. She was not only fantasizing about his voice but even about his presence there.

Standing between her room and the veranda was Sasuke, his face distraught and his clothes unkempt, his raven hair tousled and his breath short. He had been running, indeed he looked as if he had just dismounted from his horse, as if getting to Otogakure no Sato rapidly was essential. Was this how her mind had decided to show him? She would have imagined the best way to torment her would be to mold him into a perfect form, ethereal and unreachable in all his usual glory. Instead, in that instant she found by projecting him in that way her mind had chosen the cruelest to torture her, wanting to instill in Sakura the idea that Sasuke would be ready to rush to her with desperate urgency in order to get there in time.

After a few moments of painful contemplation, Sakura closed her eyes, hoping once she opened them again that figure would no longer be there to haunt her, wishing instead that face would never leave her mind, that it would continue to obsess her to madness.

"Sakura— I came as soon as I could—"

"Don't. Please go away," she uttered in a barely audible whisper, a plea addressed to herself and to the sanity she was desperately trying to cling to but which seemed to slip away more and more every moment. "I know you are not here, that this is not you. The Sasuke you are now would not dare so much. He knows how to make the hard choice. He has already done so. Sasuke has grown up, he said I should too." Sakura opened her eyes, only to be greeted again by the vision of the one man who should not have been there and the one whose presence was her most burning desire. "I did."

"Don't do this to me now, as if I didn't feel miserable enough already." His tone was unrecognizable, but at the same time tinged with some shades of familiarity, such that it gave her the impression all those last years had been just one long dream and that both of them were still the children they used to be.

"This is you," she conceded to him, performing a bitter smile. "Bold enough to talk to me as if nothing had happened, as if you had done nothing, as if I were the cause of your sorrow and not vice versa."

"This—" began the dark-haired with unusual uncertainty, venturing a step toward her. "It’s not my fault. It's not my choice, it's not something I would ever consider." Now that he was completely on the veranda, Sakura could admire his face illuminated by the moonlight. Though tired and broken, Sasuke never lost the ability to take her breath and leave her speechless. "This is not what I want." At those words, the pink-haired turned completely toward him.

It had probably been years since Sasuke truly expressed what he wanted, that he did let his personal yearn corrode him, that he did not prioritize what concerned his clan, his honor, his duties.

"If we talked with Madara together, perhaps we could—"

"No," Sakura simply sanctioned, lapidary enough to leave the dark-haired speechless and perplexed. "It's my turn to do what's right, to make the hard choice." It was a fine line between what was necessary to bring that conflict to a peaceful end and what her heart fervently craved for. Sasuke must have known this. He had already been there and had acted according to his judgment. Now it was her turn. "I promised you if you let me go I would resign myself. And that's what I did. I could tell you that you left me no choice then, lay the whole blame on you and feed your desolation, but it’s not, Sasuke. This is now my decision."

Belonging to Sasuke had been natural, uncontrollable, and at the same time bothersome, painful, frightening, and unpredictable, for it lacked stability, the assurance that over time nothing would ever change. Pleasant and additive, dangerous and swinging. His mere presence managed to offer her a place to exist, not physical, not tangible, but the sensation her whole essence was real only because it was connected to another person's, to Sasuke's. However, it was a feeling as intense as it was fallible, capable of instilling an unparalleled wholeness except to fail in the blink of an eye. No one like him could lift her up and tear her down with such ease, and as much as belonging to anything other than him was a palliative, a consolation, it was something solid, with a foundation to cling to in the event of a disastrous collapse, so as to take away the unpleasant feeling she was floating in the unknown, aimless and nameless, with no identity.

"I choose to renounce you for the sake of my clan. And I have no regrets—" A break in her voice betrayed her, attempting to her resolve, her confidence, the firmness she was trying to express. "Despite everything, for nothing in the world would I deny what has been, even if it embitters what will be instead."

For several moments, what the two exchanged was only silence and a stare full of regret, of that affection they had never been able to get rid of mingling inexorably with the knowledge they would never be capable to express it, that it would remain there, unuttered and pulsing, a constant reminder of what they could have had if only they had led different lives, if they had been born in a more benevolent age.

Then, Sasuke advanced one step toward her and then one more, until he was so close to her he enveloped her with his warmth, with his mere presence, real and tangible, proof he was there, that Sasuke, her Sasuke still existed somewhere in that man's soul and in that circumstance he had taken over, pushing him up to her, mad and senseless to the point of riding like a madman to get there in time.

"If only you could be mine—" He brushed her face with unusual gentleness, almost as if between the two of them it was he who feared Sakura might vanish at any moment, slip from his hands if only he dared too much impetuosity.

"I was." I am, she was risking saying, in a mad rush of irrationality. Half lie half truth. She would never be anyone else's as she was Sasuke's, and she would no longer be his as she had been willing to be.

"You can still be—" It was sadistic and masochistic to inflict her and inflict himself that stab in the chest, to instill a false glimmer of hope which they both knew would never be fulfilled. Closer and closer, the dark-haired leaned toward her, so near he inebriated her with his scent, so overwhelming he ignited every fiber of her being with his breath alone. "Just for tonight?" An invitation so tempting tasting, so sweet sounding, that the next morning it would turn into her worst regret. Not for what was about to happen, but for what would never be again.

Rating: E   Fandom: Naruto Relationship: Haruno Sakura/Uchiha Sasuke Characters: Haruno Sakura, Uchiha Sasuke It was now almost eight in the evening. The Uchiha house was completely deserted, just as Sakura had planned. Sarada was away at her best friend Chocho and Sasuke— he had spent the last two weeks on a mission and, according to his last message, would be returning that very night. He had not specified any time, but usually the dark-haired would never pass through the gates of Konoha if not in the evening, heading to the Hokage's residence to report and only then finally returning home, ready to indulge in some well-deserved rest.

And for this evening, Sakura had decided to welcome her husband with a special surprise, one she knew he would appreciate.

Wearing her kitchen apron and nothing else, the pink-haired allowed herself one last glance at the clock. Eight; she still had time.

On the surface, the Uchiha couple might have seemed definitively chaste in their displays of affection. It rarely happened that they showed themselves in overly intimate attitudes in the eyes of others, even more so if they were strangers. Still, no one was really aware of what was going on within the walls of their home, the passion they shared, the eagerness with which they sought and loved each other, and the funny ways they entertained each other. Not to give in to boredom, Sakura sometimes repeated to herself, aware that this was just an excuse. She knew that, even after years of marriage, their desire for each other had never waned even by an ounce.

At least one more hour and then Sakura would be found at the stove in the kitchen, intent on preparing a delicious meal for her beloved husband, knowing, however, that the main course would be something else entirely.

She smiled to herself, Sakura, extremely pleased with her idea, her body already quivering with anticipation for the night they would finally spend together after weeks apart.

She shivered as she reached the living room, assuming the breath of fresh air was due to her fully exposed body. She would warm herself with a cup of tea, waiting for Sasuke to then infuse her with the warmth she needed.

"Sakura, I'm ho—" She jolted, losing her grip on her cup and turning her head toward the entrance of the room, there where stationed motionless and incredulous was the frame of her husband, whose only visible eye had already slipped from the usual black to the deep red of the sharingan. "—me."

They both stood for a few instants contemplating the moment. Sasuke unable to look away from her exposed back, Sakura mentally cursing herself for her now ruined surprise.

It was he who moved first, advancing toward her as if his muscles were moving on their own. And he was behind her in an instant, his lips pressed against her exposed neck and his one arm snaked around her waist.

"You're early, Sasuke-kun—" She couldn't regret it, not with his body pressed against her own, his lips tickling her skin.

Sasuke nibbled the base of her neck as his gloved hand continued upward until it closed on one breast. A gasp left her lips, impossible to hold after days apart. She wished she could have shown more annoyance at that sudden change of plans.

"Isn't it me you've been waiting for?" the dark-haired teased her, exhaling each word against her ear in a successful attempt to totally shut her mind off.

"Dinner— not ready." Not that she really had any idea of consuming it, not after welcoming Sasuke like that, ready and bare for him, eager for his touch, his lips, his—

"No?" he asked, tormenting her lobe with his teeth, her nipple with his fingers, in a perfect harmony of movements which could make her legs tremble. "It seems to me that the main course is ready."

Sasuke guided her to the wall not far away, to which the pink-haired propped with her open palms. His, on the other hand, caressed her exposed ass before crashing against her cheek with enough force to cause the bruise that Sasuke so adored to glimpse on her skin and that would infuse him with enormous satisfaction the next morning.

"Look at you—" He turned her to meet his gaze, and Sakura could read in his the same burning lust which ignited her, from her lower belly down to every fiber of her body. "My perfect wife in her apron, ready for me." Sasuke whispered the last words, which broke against her lips an instant before his replaced them, finally kissing her.

As they savored each other with greedy eagerness, they explored each other's bodies with their hands, the memory of every muscle, every curve etched in their quivering fingertips.

Sakura inhaled deeply to catch her breath, abandoning her head against the wall behind her. As if truly she was the most exquisite dish which had ever touched his lips, her husband continued to taste her skin, scattering with hot, wet kisses down her neck, descending to her chest. He leaned down on his knees to tickle her belly with his tongue, granting from her what she knew was the first in a long series of moans.

His fingers found the slit between her thighs, running it and collecting her arousal there. He smiled smugly to himself, but even before Sakura could protest or whine, his fingertips were replaced by his lips and with them his tongue, sinking between her folds, licking wolfishly at her sensitive nub.

No night had passed in which the pink-haired had not thought of her husband, and in the moments when absence was at its peak, she had ventured to seek that irreplaceable pleasure for herself. Her fingers could never compare to Sasuke, to whatever part of him he decided to offer her. It was a different kind of heat, a complete and filling ecstasy. It was additive.

Sasuke sucked her clit and she could not stop herself from violently arching her back, already close to the release her body so desperately demanded. Sakura moved her hips spontaneously, chasing that immense pleasure by fucking herself against his face, and she was so close— she should have anticipated that her husband would not be so benevolent as to grant her an orgasm so easily, without first allowing him to be able to catch a glimpse of her completely out of it and exhausted, begging him to rail her.

"Do you want to cum already?" the dark-haired taunted her again, looking at her from below for a few moments, before standing up to overwhelm her again with his most imposing figure, trapping her between his body and the wall.

His gestures were quick but not quick enough, so with ruthless urgency Sakura helped him slip off the heavy black cloak, which fell back to the floor with a dull thud.

He kissed her again, invading her mouth with his tongue, soaked with her taste and his, which mingled and complemented each other to perfection, like an exquisite blend.

Sakura's hands found the waistband of his pants and began to palm the blatant bulge. Now it was her turn to enjoy his groans, to have him in her hands and do with his body what she most desired.

Sasuke groaned against her lips, breaking the kiss to rest his forehead against hers, lowering his gaze to her hands, already intent on unfastening his pants. When her seemingly delicate fingers, but capable of great feats, in surgery as much as in their most intimate moments, closed around the dark-haired's throbbing cock, he closed his eyes, mimicking the gestures in which Sakura herself had performed just now, moving his hips to fuck her hand and imbue himself in every drop of pleasure he could muster.

"Do you want to cum already?" the pink-haired teased him, then emitting a mocking giggle. Sasuke grunted, trying to express a nonexistent dissent, impossible to voice as he was overwhelmed by ecstasy, by arousal. He brought his one hand to hers, guiding her strokes with it when they threatened to slow. "No, darling— you have to fuck me first."

He did not let her repeat it, barely allowing her to finish her sentence. They shed the last of the clothing which stood in their way together, which prevented them from finding themselves skin-to-skin, then Sasuke pounced on her like a feline on its prey, grabbing her leg to lift it up.

They had always been adept at teamwork, able to read each other's intentions under all circumstances. It wasn't just happening on the battlefield or on missions. They could take advantage of that intimate privilege in sex as well.

In fact, her body acted spontaneously, her muscles moving according to their own memory, guiding his hard dick to her entrance, and Sasuke buried himself in her without delay. The couple moaned in unison, finally fulfilled in their most visceral desire; to be together, to merge and unite until they became one, making up for all the lacking due to distance.

They remained for a few moments like this, motionless, basking in the pleasure, in each other's warmth, in the feeling of wholeness which entangling instilled in them.

Sasuke then began to thrust, slowly at first, tightening his fingers in her skin, in the buttock against which his hand was pressed.

"Fuck—" exhaled the dark-haired, hastening his pace, slamming into her cunt with greedy eagerness, hard enough to slap her pelvis with his own, causing pops as indecent as they were arousing.

Trying to stifle his groans, Sasuke leaned down to her chest, closing his lips around her nipple, sucking her mound and reddening her skin wherever he could reach. He continued to thrust inside her, fucking her relentlessly

Sakura, on the other hand, was almost totally abandoned against the wall behind her, supported only by his arm, as her whole body succumbed under the weight of ecstasy, nearing its climax.

She sank a hand into his hair, grasping his raven locks as he reached the peak, imposing him with that single grip not to stop, to continue until she had enjoyed every ounce of pleasure.

Their joint moans soaked the walls, and after only a few moments, Sasuke joined her, releasing his load into her pussy, painting her walls white with warm, dense spurts, familiar and intimate, reserved only for her, just as every essence of Sakura belonged only to him.

Tired and out of breath, the couple remained entwined, indulging in a new kiss, lazier and less urgent, but no less heartfelt, less passionate.

"I've missed you," Sasuke admitted, in a whisper so inaudible it sounded more like a thought mistakenly spoken aloud. He kissed her neck, before pressing his face to it to inebriate himself with her scent. "Home at last."

"Welcome back, Sasuke-kun."

Rating: E  Fandom: Naruto Relationship: Haruno Sakura/Uchiha Sasuke Characters: Haruno Sakura, Uchiha Sasuke As she advanced down the aisle, Sakura's eyes were on one man, the one waiting at the altar, whose dark irises seemed in turn unable to give her respite.

He scrutinized her with such minuteness that a single glance went through layers of tulle and organza, making her feel naked under his gaze. The young pink-haired lowered her own, walking on the wedding march without really listening to it, burdened by the noise of her thoughts, the cries and squirms of her rioting soul.

Sakura ignored the smiles on the faces of those present, the moved tears of her dearest relatives. She walked as if she were going to the gallows and her head would soon be painfully separated from her neck.

A rush of revulsion twisted her insides when to greet her was the face of a man her heart did not recognize. His skin was a different shade, his hair too light, his eyes not dark enough, his smile so wide as to give her the impression that he was mocking her, satisfied with her misery.

A foolish thought, for Sakura knew that was not really the case. No one in that chapel was aware of the turmoil which stirred her soul and heart, of the grief which lurked in her bones and muscles, causing her such pain she felt dizzy. None but one.

The pink-haired's sad eyes met his again, more familiar, warmer, so terribly easy to interpret. She wanted to cry out, to demand him to stop looking at her like that, exuding an intimacy which never should have been there and a resignation which never should have taken root in his heart. Fight. Why don't you fight? A madness that Sakura knew was infeasible, a hope that bordered on insanity, a desire so visceral it could never be satisfied.

Sasuke never looked away from her during the entire ceremony. Sakura, on the other hand, kept her gaze down, not even listening to his words, certain that she would be able to catch the anguish in his tone of voice, as sharp as a dagger blade piercing her chest.

"— Sakura." Her name vibrated on his tongue, and Sakura wondered how the affection with which those letters were imbued, the belonging that his voice exuded, could not be obvious to the eyes of all present. "Do you take this man to have and to hold in sickness and health as long as you both shall live?"

Sakura lifted her gaze, determined to mirror herself in the dark eyes of the celebrant, who seemed to mentally repeat to her what she had madly wished for him to do in a burst of madness. Fight. Say no. Tell the truth. But she could not. She couldn't have. She would have ruined herself, her reputation, her family, the peace agreement reached by that arranged marriage— and she would have ruined him, the victim of a love which if expressed could have been lethal, a sin so sweet and blasphemous, a blessing and condemnation they would have to live with for the rest of their days.

"I do." And so she sanctioned the final blow to both of them, a bleeding wound which was going to rip through the core of their chests that not even the knowledge this would happen sooner or later could mend. Foolish and reckless, they had orbited each other until they condemned themselves with their own hands, greedy for forbidden and unutterable love and pleasure. Crucified voluntarily, repeating to themselves that not consuming that sinful flame would have counted as an even worse offense to Heaven, to saints and gods ready to judge and punish them— as was eventually happening. But it had not been the hand of the Lord which had annihilated them with a fatal lash. It had been them, selfish and conscious.

---

It had been easy to ignore the women's murmurs when she promptly dismissed them. She wanted to be alone; she needed it to breathe, to shed the mask she had been forced to wear. A few moments of relief, a few moments in which to pretend she was not falling apart under the weight of lies, of pain, of her torn and broken heart.

Sakura looked at the mirror without recognizing herself, dressed in white to embody a purity which did not actually belong to her. Lies and lies, from her mouth, from her face. Her eyes, however, were incapable of lying, sad and filled with mourning, brightened by a vivid glow only the moment she glimpsed the figure of the dark-haired behind her through the reflection.

She could not suppress or annihilate him, that love that burned and blazed like unquenchable flames, the passion and lust which lurked in her vile sinner's body. Sadness, remorse and pain completely engulfed by all that made her real and true, the force which provided her with oxygen, which pumped her heart to allow it to beat.

"Sasuke-kun—" The dark-haired lifted a hand to shush her immediately, as if with words she could shatter that moment which rested on the slender control they both had, ready to falter, to sanction their end. Sasuke continued to watch her, the onyx irises emitting everything he could not express verbally.

It was a cruel game they had been thrown into, into an even more vile world. Selfishness and lust for power had trapped them in a vortex where the only ones who really suffered were them. And then their lives had been seasoned only with ifs, assumptions. What if they had never met each other? If Sakura had not been a Haruno, so important and essential in the Senju's rise to power? What if Sasuke had not opted to exile himself among the Lord's gates, to redeem himself of a lesser sin than the one that now stained their consciences?

After contemplating and admiring her for endless moments, the dark-haired approached her with exhausting slowness, as if waiting for his body to come to its senses and remove him from that room. It never happened, as it had never happened in those years of hidden and forbidden passion, tasting so sweet.

Trembling hands found the pearl buttons, moving over to unbutton them one by one, with deliberate calm. Each imperceptible touch of his knuckles against her own skin was enough to instill mad desire in her, chills inexorably enveloping her body.

Their gazes trapped each other. No one was willing to deprive himself even for a moment of the sight of the other's face. Black and green mingled in a swirl of darkness and light, joining until they became a single flame burning with the intensity of the sun, ready to consume two mere sinners.

Sakura angled her head, exposing the milky skin on which immediately the lips of the other rested, greedy and unbidden, aware that they could not escape the force which compelled them to touch, to love, to be consumed.

"I have never seen such a beautiful bride," Sasuke whispered to her, in a sigh which broke against her bare neck. A chill possessed her back, as in her lower belly fanned the flames of a sin which brought her ever closer to hell, a fiery chasm into which she was voluntarily sinking. "So pure—" The dark-haired's arm encircled her waist, pressing their bodies against each other. "So candid and innocent." Lies upon lies but so persuasive in tone that they became absolute truths just for the sake of being able to believe them, of being able to entrust to him and him alone a purity from which he would strip her with false reticence. "How cruel it would be to deprive you of it, Sakura," Sasuke continued, lifting her wedding dress so that he could lock her thigh in an iron, possessive grip. "And how bitter the punishment of the one who would dare to stain it."

"Sasuke—" she exhaled, as his fingers grazed her clothed sex with cruel slowness. An entreaty, an invitation to go on, to sully her with every sin which was touching his mind, rather than to stop, to come to his senses, to redeem himself and her.

"He would burn in hellfire for even thinking that." His warm breath brushed her ear, and Sakura could do nothing but look at him, admiring him helplessly through the reflection of the mirror, succumbing to his presence so additive. The dark-haired looked back at her, reveling in the blush which dusted her cheeks, the parted lips which emitted delicate gasps, the eyes blazing with lust, that garish innocence which was going to dissipate due to him.

A genuine moan escaped her as Sasuke slipped his hand under her panties, palming her cunt, spreading her folds and feeling her arousal.

"But what is an eternity of damnation—" Succumbing to his own desire, to the lustful demon taking possession of him, the dark-haired wetted his lips, swallowing noisily. "When compared to you and your gentle sin." Already embraced by pleasure, Sakura hid her face in the crook of his neck, there where the white collar towered over the dark robes, over the cassock which should have acted as a warning but was by now skillfully ignored, so long as they lingered in that shared fervor.

Using his grip on the young bride's body, Sasuke turned her in his arms, guiding her toward the table to his left. Trapped between the furniture and the priest, Sakura grasped a flap of her white dress to keep it up, her legs spread, her sex offered to the man before her, whose fingers now explored her from within.

"So sweet and so tempting you are— look how you deceive even the most devoted servant of God." Sasuke led her hand to the bulge on his crotch. Her inners tightened around his fingers, milking all the pleasure they could get from them, quivering in anticipation of something thicker, harder to clench around.

"It’s your doing, father," exhaled the young pink-haired, leaning toward him, and he did the same, pressing their foreheads together. "It’s yours and yours alone— the desire to corrupt a young and innocent bride." His fingers curled inside her, causing her to moan louder. Hers, on the other hand, clutched his length through the clerical robes.

"You know how to make lies so terribly believable, with your bold lips, Sakura," Sasuke taunted her, his fingers now dripping with her fluids, as he continued to fuck her with them relentlessly. "Yet another sin of which they are the victims." The dark-haired sealed the reality of those words with a kiss, wolfish and wet, greedy and craving, invading her with all his vigor, whether it was in her mouth or in her cunt.

"Not the only one they're capable of," Sakura murmured against his lips, biting her own in a vain attempt to quell the sharp displays of pleasure. As if to come to her rescue, Sasuke paused, depriving her of a bliss so close to climax that it mingled with frustration.

"Show me then." He stepped back and stood there, motionless and waiting, under the heated and impatient gaze of the young bride. Sakura watched him minutely, seemingly so obedient to his duty, to his promise to God. Impeccable in his cassock, with the white collar towering over his neck, and there was no greater satisfaction than anticipating the undressing, the moment when the priest so composed and algid, with seemingly invulnerable faith, became disheveled and tousled, panting and sweating only for her, further than ever from the absolution he preached and granted.

Sakura fell to her knees shortly thereafter, her palms running upward along his legs, searching for and finding the buttons of his black cassock, which opened under the dark-haired's attentive and lustful gaze, trembling with anticipation.

She palmed his erection through his dark pants as her other hand crept into his tunic, feeling the rough skin, the well-defined abdomen, a secret which should have remained so, a nudity which should never have been discovered.

Sasuke groaned, his hard cock now exposed and clenched between the young pink-haired's fingers. She began to stroke him, as her lips testified to their perdition by closing gently on his nut, sucking with exhausting delicacy.

There was not only honor and reputation at stake. It was not just the sin they were imbuing themselves. If her groom's family discovered them waiting for them there would be the gallows and the promise of the hell to which they were condemning themselves.

Nothing had been able to contain the burning passion, the need to have and love each other strenuously, to the point of corroding and dissolving, as long as they did not deprive them of the other, the kisses and caresses, the fusion of their bodies as one. A cruel gambit of Satan, so inescapable that not even God's light could have brightened them, so lost and complete when seized by that darkness, where each was the other's light.

With her lively tongue Sakura licked the dark-haired's cock upward, lingering on the spot on the tip she knew brought wonder and perdition, if touched by her, if massaged by her fingers, if bathed by her tongue. She collected a few drops of his fluids with it, and the groan which followed acted as incitement, as her lips closed on his length, welcoming him into her mouth bearer of lies and pleasure.

Sasuke tilted his head back as the young bride bobbed her head and sucked him with her cheeks. An unholy melody filled the room, wet, choked sounds, groans barely controlled. She gagged on his cock, stubborn enough to take him in as far as she could, until the corners of her eyes were brimming with tears.

When no longer able to sustain the sight presented to him, the priest closed his eyes, going at the same time to move his hips to regain an almost entirely lost control. He fucked her mouth in a steady pace, spit and pre-cum sliding down her chin, soiling her white dress, witness of purity.

He was on the edge, Sakura could tell by the throbbing of his dick, by the way his fingers tightened around a few pink locks, undoing her elaborate wedding hairstyle. Hers clutched his cassock, the only foothold which kept his fervor from unbalancing her.

Sasuke pulled away a moment before the inevitable happened, depriving himself of a pleasure he longed to pour out elsewhere, yearning to have all of her before he granted her his seed. He grazed her lips with his thumb, gathering the wetness with which they glistened, before slipping it between her lips to allow her to taste it. And she sucked him, savoring without ever taking her gaze from his, the jade irises caught in his flushed face, his eyes alight with mad desire.

She got to her feet, being immediately pushed toward the bed destined for her wedding night, falling with her back on it, still adorned in her wedding dress. The dark-haired towered over her, his knees pressed against the edge of the mattress, his hard cock waiting to spring into action.

Sakura wrapped her legs around his hips and, without waiting any longer, the dark-haired slipped to the side her panties, burying himself inside her, deep and firm, gaining a sharp moan from her, more harmonious than the clerical choirs.

"Why would I desire Heaven—" he murmured, pulling out and then slamming himself again into her cunt, throbbing and wet, eager for pleasure. "If it is between your legs?" The young bride arched her back, then abandoned herself messily and exhausted on the bed, clinging desperately to the pure, white sheets.

His erection rammed inside her, embraced by her folds dripping with arousal, which clenched and trapped him, seeking ever greater bliss. The young bride began to meet his thrusts with her hips, supported by his hands, firm on her ass. Sasuke was guiding her toward pleasure, an accomplice and advocate of a capital and addictive sin, one she would rather die than ever deprive herself of.

"You're wrong—" muttered Sakura, and the dark-haired leaned toward her, abandoning her back on the mattress, steading himself on his right palm while his left did not leave her bare thigh. "It burns like hellfire."

The dark-haired smirked, kissing her again and again, firm in the rhythm of his hips, fucking her further, deeper. Sakura was now lost and disheveled, her pink hair spreading over her head like a halo, mingling with the rumpled sheets, the tulle of her wedding gown.

She undid the last buttons of his cassock, the white collar falling abandoned on one side of the bed, his now exposed chest pressed against hers.

"Let me soothe it then," whispered Sasuke, in a murmur which mingled with groans. He turned her with his arms, swift and determined, so that Sakura could find herself facing the mirror again. A different person than the young bride of moments before, composed and pious, innocent and pure. "You can watch us burn." He pierced her with his cock again and again, impatiently pacing, colliding against her ass and reveling in the unholy, desecrating sounds of their bodies coming together, the cries of pleasure, so sharp that even if Heaven wasn't watching it would have heard them.

With one hand the pink-haired kept her dress raised, while the other snaked his neck, her fingers gripping his disheveled raven locks.

He fucked her from behind, under the watchful gaze of both of them, greedy eyes following the sensual and sinful movements, a union profane and wrong, perverted and depraved, but in which the two of them were at peace, clean, filled with wholeness and belonging. Only together and fused were they alive and breathing. Only sin made the world real and worth living in. Hell was a meager atonement in comparison.

Sasuke branded her skin with his teeth, recklessly and madly, then running his tongue along the reddened spot on her neck. His left hand slid between her legs, stopping there where the flames burned with greater intensity, ready to fulfill his promise and ease her burning, granting her peaks of pleasure.

"Sasuke-kun—" implored Sakura, moving messily against his body, impaling herself on his hard, throbbing cock, accentuating the friction of her own cunt, of the sensitive nub, against his hand.

"Only God knows how much I crave you, Sakura—" Even Sasuke was now at the brink, cupping her cheeks with his free hand. "Because he himself doomed me to love you so much."

The knot in her lower belly loosened, tongues of fire grasped her, expanding toward every ounce of her body, like a heathen burned at the stake.

"Cum inside, Sasuke-kun— please," she begged him between ravings of madness and pleasure. "I am married now. I can bear your child." He needed no further incentive. The priest reached his climax by slamming into her one last time, releasing hot spurts of his seed into her cunt, which mingled with her fluids in a meaningful mixture, juices of a forbidden love just consumed.

They remained that way for several moments, entwined and heated, with frantic breaths and sweaty skin. Completely exhausted, far from the composure they masked themselves with, themselves only because they were together and free. Sasuke kissed her, without wolfish urgency, intense but slow, savoring each moment with lazy avarice.

"I love you," she told him, pressing her lips against his neck, up to his jaw. "God be damned."

"No, Sakura," the dark-haired corrected her, sitting back on his heels and dragging her with him, clutching her to his chest as if she were his most precious possession. "God be praised. Without him I would not have found you." Exhausted by the newly ravaged intercourse, Sakura managed to barely curve the corners of her lips into a smile. "My purest and most innocent sinner."

Part 2 here

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Rating: E Fandom: Naruto Relationship: Haruno Sakura/Uchiha Sasuke Characters: Haruno Sakura, Uchiha Sasuke Loud music echoed in her head like a drum. Fluorescent lights radiated colors which in the darkness of the hall intermittently illuminated the pressed figures of those on the dance floor. Her body moved in rhythm, not missing a single note, tireless and hungry for adrenaline.

When Sakura sensed hands sliding down her waist and arms encircling her sides, she did not immediately turn away. Rather, in an attempt to fully adhere to the muscular figure behind her, she let herself go against him, leaning her back against his chest and resting her head on his shoulder.

As his open palm was pressed against her stomach, uncovered by one of the slits in the provocative dress, so as to prevent her from depriving them both of the contact between their bodies, the pink-haired girl looked up through thick eyelashes at the other's face.

Sakura followed the sharp, refined line of his jaw, tracing the straight, elegantly cut nose, searching for and meeting his eyes, blacker than night, as deep as the ocean's most concealed depths, as fiery as burning coal.

After minutely admiring the work which appeared to have been sculpted by the gods themselves, the pink-haired turned in his arms, using hers to encircle his neck, without distancing herself a single millimeter from his figure. In an instant, a second allowed to get lost in those dark pools, her lips found his, immediately joining in a kiss which was not at all shy, but with passionate and lustful undertones.

Sakura craved him. He tasted minty and lemony, perhaps the mixture of some of the cocktails he must surely have ingested. Acrid and fresh and at the same time hot and arousing, as hot and arousing as his hands were, running down her body with heated ardor, feeling each curve with a desire to discover more and more. Sakura's fingers were entwined with his raven locks, feeling their softness and tugging at some of them when the kiss touched more ravenous peaks, with his or her own teeth marking each other's lips.

It was Sakura who pulled away first, not just for the purpose of catching her breath. She smiled at him, flickering her long eyelashes as she took his right hand with her own, beginning to lead him away from the center of the dance floor. Without flinching, without questioning, the dark-haired followed her, one corner of his lips curved in a knowing, mischievous smirk.

By the time they reached the club's bathroom, their mouths were once again glued together. He barely gave her time to close the door behind her, assaulting her neck with his lips and her legs with his hands, which lasciviously ran upward along her bare skin to the hem of her short mint dress and then beyond.

"Tell me your name," he whispered against her skin, tickling her with his warm breath, his hoarse voice barely distorted by desire and arousal. Sakura mixed a giggle with pants and without emitting a word started undoing his pants. She stroked his cock through the dark fabric of his boxers and spontaneously his hips jerked, going to meet her fingers, desperate for more pleasure.

A groan broke against his lips, now once again intent on tasting those of the other, as Sakura's hand crept into his undergarment. Skin against skin, she could not hold back a shiver filled with anticipation, and even her inners twitched, already awaiting the moment when they could tighten around that length, demanding it as their own.

"What did you drink?" she asked him, appearing almost completely out of context, so much so it took the dark-hired several moments to assimilate the question, his mind already partially clouded by that taste of bliss.

"Wha— two southsides," he then replied, thrusting against her fingers no longer implicitly, fucking her hand. "Why?" he asked shortly after, mixing confusion, curiosity, and pleasure into one expression.

"I like the taste." Demonstrating that statement, Sakura slowly let her tongue slide against his lips, gathering their flavors which had now become one.

Spurred by the gesture or perhaps unable to resist the urge to satisfy himself and his throbbing dick any longer, the dark-haired lifted her off the ground, firmly grabbing her legs to bring them around his waist. They acted cooperatively, moving without one hindering the other. As he slipped to the side her soaked panties, Sakura aligned his cock at her entrance, so with a single shove the dark-haired could embed himself into her.

She arched her back, pressed against the bathroom door, clutching the other’s body as if it were the only foothold which kept her from sinking into an abyss.

His hands were pressed against her ass, burying into her skin. He used that grip to angle her body as he most preferred, searching for that point in her core which could shut down her brain and twitch her whole body with spasms of pleasure.

"Tell me your name— " mumbled the dark-haired again, piercing into her cunt, sliding between her wetted walls. He was fucking her with a steady but not frantic pace, although his urgency shone through in passionate kisses and increasingly labored pants. "Just a letter—"

Sakura moaned, feeling the tip of his length inching closer and closer to that hidden, wonder-bearing place. She stamped her own fingernails into his shoulder, rippling the stretchy fabric of his white T-shirt, which adhered exquisitely to his perfect body.

"S—" she said in a hiss, whispering against his ear, before tickling his lobe with the tip of her tongue. The dark-haired shuddered, almost imperceptibly, a slight moment of hesitation to which his cock protested with a twitch, a warning which imposed him to pick up his pace, to fill her with all his might. And without hesitation he did so, guiding Sakura's body with his hands to collide against his own.

The sounds they made were now explicit and both seemed oblivious that they were in a public place and that anyone could have entered the bathroom and heard them, immediately understanding what was happening. It wasn't important; in fact, it was that adrenaline which fueled her arousal, yearning and pleasure. The thought of being caught in the act, as his cock buried itself inexorably in her core, was tremendously arousing, almost as much as his hoarse groans, his onyx irises blazing with desire and need.

Sakura found herself on her feet again in an instant, her pussy empty and throbbing, in full protest, a displeasure the pink-haired girl had no time to express in words, for with a decisive move the dark-hired turned her around, sinking his dick into her again. Intense was the moan which left her lips, her forehead now resting against the surface of the door, whose coolness contrasted sharply with the searing heat which enveloped her like a burning fire.

"Give me your number—" he said, able to articulate only the wish he could have her again, as if the thought of enjoying her only in that moment embittered his pleasure. For Sakura, however, it was the exact opposite. Torturing him like that was precisely what satisfied her most, what she yearned for.

"Too many demands," she teased him, receiving in response a sharp slap on a buttock, which resonated with an indecent and incredibly arousing pop. She tilted her head back and at the same moment, continuing to thrust in her with increasing vigor, the dark-haired pressed his chest against her back. His right hand abruptly grasped her face, at the base of her jaw, while his left slid from her hip down her thigh to her cunt. He groaned against her ear, in a way which was incredibly sensual, causing her to roll her eyes in pleasure.

"You're a bitch— you know this?" Frustration fueled his brutality. And there his length finally lined up perfectly, reaching that corner hidden from anyone, gaining from Sakura sharp moans and shaking legs. His fingers at the same time rubbed her nub, drawing imaginary circles there. Hers, on the other hand, were pressed into his forearm, certain to imprint marks on it which would take days to heal.

With the intent of venting his growing annoyance, he was railing her roughly and raw, overwhelming her with every means at his disposal, whether it was his deft fingers or his big, hard cock, which by now was on the verge, pulsing between her juices mixing with his pre-cum.

Realizing he would not be able to hold out much longer, the dark-haired slammed into Sakura messily and urgently, guiding her to the zenith with his eagerness.

"I want to fill you," he admitted soon after, his face sunk into the crook of her neck, his mind now completely gone, unable to formulate rational thoughts. And so was she.

"Yes— come inside me." Fill me, thought the pink-haired girl, already anticipating a pleasure they were both desperately chasing.

In reaching her longed for climax, Sakura instinctively jolted, going against the other's thrusts. Their joined bodies caused an indecent and eloquent snap; music to her ears along with the melody of their combined moans.

He came soon after, filling her with hot spurts of his seed, not even touched by the possibility this might be a bad idea, overwhelmed by the need to satisfy his every desire, every slightest demand of his aroused body.

Panting, the dark-haired made no move away from her, keeping his right palm pressed against her stomach, just as when they had been on the dance floor.

They both took several moments to regularize their labored breathing. Then Sakura wearily turned her head toward him, as if magnetically drawn to his lips, which immediately met hers. It was a different kiss from the others exchanged before, lazy and exhausted, but no less intense, no less yearning. It expressed the quiet and passion of one who was aware they could linger in that moment for as long as desired.

Then, the moment vanished, and with a push of her ass Sakura brought them both back to reality, beginning to settle her own undoubtedly unmade appearance.

"Where next time?" he asked her, buttoning his pants without ever taking his eyes off her, following the way she adjusted the short hem of her mint dress, only partially covering her tapered legs.

"You know that's not how it works," Sakura teased him again, stretching her flushed, swollen lips into a falsely innocent smile. "You have to find me." The dark-haired wrinkled his nose in a clear show of irritation. In response, the smile present on her face widened, becoming a complete grin when, unable to resist the call, he leaned in to seal the moment with one last steamy kiss.

"Even if I have to search every corner of the city," he sanctioned, grabbing her chin between his fingers. "But next time you will tell me your name."

Sakura arched her eyebrows, allowing him a final peck and a hand wave as she exited the small bathroom.

Rating: GA Fandom: Naruto Relationship: Haruno Sakura/Uchiha Sasuke Characters: Haruno Sakura, Uchiha Sasuke A dull thud broke the silence of the Uchiha house, followed by a resounding curse from Sakura. It was fortunate that she was alone, with Sarada and Sasuke both away on missions.

She had taken the opportunity to fix up the house, the wardrobes especially now that the weather was becoming less clement. A good a way to spend the time, to busy her mind during her days off, when the two most important people in her life were not around to claim her full attention and care.

There was always apprehension, constant as a hum in the back of her head, repressed by the precepts inculcated since she was a little girl in the Academy. Sacrifice, endurance, strength. She could not completely prevent herself from feeling concern for Sasuke and Sarada, but she could at least silence that unpleasant feeling, exiling it to the far corners of her soul.

Sakura bent down on her knees, beginning to rummage through the fallen box. Some of the contents had spilled onto the floor. There were heavy clothes, coats, stuffed cloaks. She smiled wistfully when she spotted Sasuke's old poncho, the one which had accompanied them on their journey around the world, patched and battered, but a memento too precious to throw away.

She brought the worn fabric close to her face, inhaling its scent as if, after so many years, she could still smell the heady, familiar scent of Sasuke soaked into it. There still seemed to be something of him there but it was probably just her memory. That scent was well imprinted on her senses and when he was not there with her, Sakura still continued to sense it in every room because Sasuke never really left her.

"What's this?" She noticed a piece of paper folded in on itself on the floor, probably leaking from the fallen box. The handwriting was unmistakable; Sakura would have recognized it anywhere. It was elegant, simple, neat, without the slightest smudge. And the message contained was equally straightforward, concise.

Don't tire yourself too much while I'm gone. And don't worry too much. I'll be back soon. S.

She smiled; her heart so full it seemed about to burst. Sasuke was a practical man of few words, but none were ever wasted or empty. Such demonstrations were reserved only for her, the small, implied cares which kept making her fall in love again and again, more and more.

He knew her, he knew her worries, he knew her fears, and while he could not completely eradicate that burden on her soul, Sasuke made constant efforts to at least try to lighten it.

Rating: T Fandom: Naruto Relationship: Haruno Sakura/Uchiha Sasuke Characters: Haruno Sakura, Uchiha Sasuke  Sasuke was breathing heavily, his body tremendously wracked with pain. He could barely stand upright, exhausted from the battle which had now raged for hours, with neither being able to overpower the other.

Weighing on his shoulders, on his entire body were not the hard blows he had suffered, the pain inflicted by his opponent's extraordinary skills. His soul was wrecked. His heart was shattered. Each blow aimed at wounding him in the shell pierced him straight through the chest like a sharp arrow.

He looked at his ANBU mask abandoned on the forest floor, cracked and in pieces like everything around them, like that vegetation overwhelmingly uprooted by the rush of their fury.

No, this was not a mission, the duty a shinobi had to immolate himself and sacrifice himself for the village to which he belonged. Sasuke had disobeyed to be there, to be himself to meet those eyes again.

The dark irises found her jade green ones, intent on not giving him a moment's respite, following his every slightest movement, instilling in him the unhealthy doubt that perhaps that was not just the gaze of a cornered enemy, determined on assessing his opponent's moves.

"You shouldn't have come—" She was tired, Sakura. She held her side with her hand, from which a familiar green glow radiated. And Sasuke could almost feel its warmth on his own skin, a tingling there where her hands had gently brushed and caressed.

"I must— I must bring you back." Even against your will, he added mentally, certain that she herself was aware of it. In order to have her back, in order to free himself from the burden of her absence, Sasuke would have dragged her back to Konoha by force. "You can still be forgiven. Kakashi is Hokage now—"

"Forgiven?" He hoped the glow which lit up her beautiful green eyes was a spark of hope. Sasuke knew, he was sure, that was not her choice. When the Haruno clan, small but extremely devoted to the Senju, had made demands as a reward for their blind obedience, they had received a rejection so stark, so painful to their pride that they had decided to leave the village. If among the gates of Konoha they were seen as outcasts, the last wheel on the wagon despite Sakura's enormous skills, they would offer their abilities to anyone who would ask for them. Mercenaries, criminals, ready to write a name for themselves in the pages of history with blood. And she with her talent was essential. Without Sakura, the Haruno could not have even hoped to survive outside Konoha. They were taking advantage of this and she— she felt responsible.

My family is counting on me; they need me. Those had been the last cryptic words Sakura had reserved for him. He remembered that night as if no years had passed, when together they had chosen to celebrate their new ANBU charge, when Sasuke had found the courage to offer himself to her as more than just a teammate, more than just a friend. That night had been the first of what the dark-haired hoped would be a long series— instead it had turned out to be the last.

"Yes, Sakura— we know you didn't want to—"

"I don't know what you're talking about— I left because I wanted to." He couldn't believe it, he refused. Sakura had been coerced, forced by the burden her family had placed on her shoulders.

"It's not like that—" Sasuke advanced a step and, reflexively, she stepped back, ready to defend herself if necessary, to attack. "Your family made you do it."

"Stop it!" she blurted, surprising him with her speed. Even before he could notice, she was in front of him, her fingers firmly clasped around his neck. "You know nothing." The corners of her lips were dramatically curved downward. Her eyes were red, and knowing her— Sasuke knew she was appealing to all her strength to restrain herself, to convince herself that what she was forcing herself to believe was real.

Sasuke pulled out a kunai, which he pressed against her back. Now their bodies were so close that her air was his own, her breath mingling with his own.

Why did you leave me? thought the dark-haired, on the verge of voicing that desperate plea. He was certain, however, that he did not need to. No one could read his gaze better than Sakura, grasping from his dark eyes all that lingered in his soul.

"You know nothing—" repeated Sakura in a whisper, addressed more to herself than to him. How strong might have been the desire to comfort her, even now— now that her hands were lined with blood, now that they embodied two opposite poles. Criminal and executioner. The one who broke the rules and the one who should have done everything to enforce them, to punish. Even at the cost of killing.

I miss you. A thought his traitorous mind formulated of its own accord, propelled by the familiar scent of her, intoxicating and vivid; as real as the memory of their last night etched in his mind.

"I know you. Not what you are now." Sakura tightened her grip on his neck, but rather than struggle or try to wriggle away, the dark-haired instinctively reached out toward her until his forehead touched hers. Weak and coward, Sasuke repeated to himself, resigned, however, that he could not act otherwise, drawn to her like a moth to the light. Lethal but so tremendously additive that it suffocated him.

I love you. It was what he had not dared to put into words that night. What he denied himself to expose even now. Especially now— Because the knowledge hurt. Because admitting it out loud would have meant giving that battle, that confrontation, that constant chase a meaning which went far beyond duty. And duty was all he had been taught. All he was allowed.

"I hate you, Sasuke," she murmured, releasing her grip on his neck so she could instead grasp his hair firmly, sinking her fingers into the raven locks with forbidden intimacy. A stab to the center of his chest, more painful than a real kunai could have inflicted. And a lie. He knew it was so. It had to be that way.

"Me too." A half-truth, instead, for that intense, burning love was filled with resentment, with the anger matured with betrayal. I hate you for leaving me, he wanted to tell her. And I hate me cause I can’t really despise you.

It was she who approached, with such slowness that every particle of his body ached with anticipation. That familiar heat grew, until it became a blazing fire in his abdomen, when he decided that to be patient any longer would be too much suffering.

He kissed her as if she had never left. As if not a single day had passed since that night. As if just touching her could erase years of distance, years of dismay and sorrow, years of desperate searching, years when all Sasuke had wanted was to have her back, as well as to erase her from his life; anything to soothe that pulsing, excruciating pain.

And now it had happened, completely smothered by the softness of her lips, of her body. As their lips came together, moving in unison without allowing themselves the slightest breath, everything was right, everything complete, everything as it should have been. There was no ache, no untold, no resentment. Just her. Sakura. His Sakura.

Rating: GA Fandom: Naruto Relationship: Haruno Sakura/Uchiha Sasuke Characters: Haruno Sakura, Uchiha Sasuke "Sakura." With all the slowness in the world, the young pink-haired took her own time to lift her gaze, pulling her jade irises away from the many papers arranged on her desk and placing them on him.

"You're avoiding me." He had initially considered it normal. Sakura had her career, her schedule. She hadn't been idle during those years of separation, and he deeply admired her for that, for the dedication she had for her work, so essential to shinobi and non-shinobi alike.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Sasuke-kun." Then that attitude had begun to become frequent, suspicious. It was no longer about the many hours spent in the hospital. Even the conversations they sporadically managed to have were brief, bland. And when he did manage to cross her path, it always seemed Sakura was in a hurry to get away, to leave him.

"You know what I mean." Part of him believed he had no right to demand an explanation for that. He should have resigned himself, allowed her to act with him as she saw fit. And initially, when the unpleasant awareness of what was happening had begun to dawn on him, he had even considered doing so. Who was he to come back into her life and expect her to welcome him back without blinking an eye? Then, he had sadly realized he didn't have the ability to let reason prevail, to watch her from a distance without being able to talk to her, without being able to look into her eyes and receive the usual affection in return, the one he needed but had always tried to eradicate, from her, from him.

Sakura arched her eyebrows, looking at him questioningly. If he didn't know her, he might have even found her intimidating behind her desk, authoritative and professional. But vivid in his mind was the memory of the little girl she had been, sunny and cheerful, always ready to harp on him to offer comfort and warmth.

"I've been back for two weeks and you've been avoiding me the whole time." He was almost ashamed of the plaintive undertone he used, almost as if he were a child intent on demanding the attention of a particularly absent parent.

"I'm not avoiding you, Sasuke-kun-"

"Yesterday you even changed your way to avoid crossing my path." And just saying those words caused a burning pain in the center of his chest. Why do this to him? He deserved it, he was aware of that, but...why?

"Do you hate me?" Just voicing that doubt, that anguish of his, forced him to look away from her. He feared the answer to the question more than anything else.

"Of course I don't hate you." Sakura frowned, deciding to get to her feet so she could give him her full attention. She joins him at the other end of the desk, claiming his gaze with her proximity alone. His onyx irises left the cold and antiseptic floor to meet a bright and deep green, familiar and loving.

"In fact, I love you, Sasuke-kun." Sasuke blinked several times, stunned by the confession. Not because he could not understand its meaning, but because it came in a totally unexpected way. Those were certainly not the words he thought would come from her lips.

"Then why?" The pink-haired girl sighed, depriving him for a few moments of the chance to mirror himself in her eyes.

"I thought...well, I thought it best to keep our distance for a while." Sasuke frowned, wondering where on earth such an idea could have come from, what had led her to maturing it.

"Why?" He urged her, not quite managing to mask his impatience, the need for her to express herself clearly.

Sakura sighed hesitantly. He didn't know what might have occurred during those years of separation, but if something serious had happened, something that would have caused her to pull away from him...he would have sensed it through the letters exchanged, wouldn't he?

"I have to leave on a long-term mission in a week." Noticing his perplexity, she continued. "I was afraid that after spending so much time apart, getting close to you would make my departure even more difficult..."

Sakura lowered her gaze, trying to hide her sorrow and sadness. He recalled their first meeting after his return, the bright eyes, full of tears of joy, the natural and spontaneous way in which she had embraced him. She was happy in that moment, and he had been happy too, probably like never before.

"Sakura." Understanding her words wasn't difficult, why she had chosen to pull away. But that didn't mean he was willing to let her do so. "Why didn't you tell me right away?" The girl looked at him again, bewilderment and confusion painted on her face.

"I don't know...maybe I thought...I don't know maybe I thought..." She was struggling to find the words. Or rather, to express what she had rightly assumed. "...That you would be sad." She finished then, without daring to meet his eyes.

Silence fell in the room for several moments. Sasuke watched her minutely, wondering if her ability to assess every possible scenario in this case was a plus or a minus. It had condemned him to two weeks of torment, in which he had wondered if all was lost, if Sakura was no longer his.

"I don't mind it." He saw her wince and instinctively back away a step, but he reached out his hand toward her before she could withdraw completely, grabbing her wrist. "Because I'm going with you." The pink-haired girl seemed not to immediately assimilate his words. She looked at him stunned for a few moments, her eyes barred and her lips parted.

"But you just got back, I can't ask you to leave again..." In this case, however, her fine intuition seemed to prove flaws in no small measure.

"You're not asking me." He pointed out and, without letting go of his grip on her wrist, took a few steps closer to her. "I came back for you. Why should I stay if you're not here?" The only immediate reaction he received from Sakura was the violent blush that dyed her cheeks and he couldn't help but wonder if she really didn't understand it or if she simply didn't want to believe it, probably to protect herself from possible disappointment.

"I don't even know how long I'm going to be gone. Months, maybe a year. The village is your home and-" He interrupted her by pressing his index and middle fingers against her forehead, in a poke that was as light as it was extremely significant. Not another word escaped her lips.

"I want to be with you." A statement as simple as it was true. Wherever she was, that was where he wanted to be, where he wanted to return.

After a moment of pure amazement, Sakura smiled at him, lowering her gaze again as the weight of those words reached her, so as to hide her embarrassment, or at least try to.

Rating: T Fandom: Naruto Relationship: Haruno Sakura/Uchiha Sasuke Characters: Haruno Sakura, Uchiha Sasuke Blue. He loved blue. He preferred it to black, although he now wore the latter much more frequently. Even if it didn't seem like it on the surface, Sasuke loved colors, liked to admire them, surround himself with them. Red, pink, green. These were his favorites- Wherever he saw them they reminded him of her, and he smiled spontaneously, wishing he could see her again soon, imagining the expression which would be painted on her face once their eyes met again.

Now there was only blue, intense and vivid. It accompanied him every day on the route he now methodically traveled. The Yamanaka's flower shop, where the blonde at the counter reserved for him the usual sympathetic glance, to which, however, the dark-haired paid little attention.

Strange to say, but by now he no longer even cared about being pitied, about instilling compassion in others. He did not exchange a word with her, leaving the store to walk toward his destination. And there he found himself now, beneath his onyx irises there was only blue.

"Sasuke..." Although he recognized the voice, the dark-haired did not turn around, enraptured by that now sadly familiar tone. He knew he would meet another pitying gaze, blue as well. "You're here again." There was no surprise in the other's tone, only resignation. Naruto bent down to deposit a flower. Pink. A single pink spot in all that blue.

And it didn't jar, it only went to complete a picture with a sad palette, a canvas painted with blue, painted with sorrow.

"Let's go home." But Sasuke did not move, did not react. He continued to see only blue. "You can't be here all the time every day. It's been a year, Sasuke..." 

A year was nothing compared to what awaited him. A life tinged with blue but without the slightest spark of pink, of that cheerful, bright hue which could bright his soul and warm his heart.

"It's my fault." A thought mistakenly voiced. A whisper addressed to himself but to which the blond replied by sighing and bringing a hand to his face.

"It isn't. It was a mission, it could have happened to anyone..."

"But it happened to her." Blue became completely tinged red in his mind. Red with anger. Red with blood. The one she had spilled. "And I wasn't here."

Naruto did not retort, perhaps because he was now resigned, perhaps because he was unable to find the right words, the words that could disprove him, for they did not exist. He was not there and now of her remained an engraved name surrounded by blue.

He looked at her grave, the many flowers towering over it and covering every corner, leaving only the engraving visible. Sakura Haruno. A name, a face and a color etched in his mind and heart, where they would be forever.

It has always been you, only you. And it will always be you.

Rating: M Fandom: Naruto Relationship: Haruno Sakura/Uchiha Sasuke Characters: Haruno Sakura, Uchiha Sasuke Secret and hidden, as they had been since childhood. In public, stolen glances, polite customs imposed by their class. In private, tender caresses and, with time, lustful exchanges, grafted by an uncontrollable, inevitable passion.

Their meeting places were the most varied, although they preferred to linger in the cornfields surrounding the Haruno mansion, where the tall golden wires allowed them to enclose themselves in their personal illusion, far from everything that was only a few meters away.

Sasuke was on top of her, his body firmly clamped between her legs. He was burying himself inside her body and soul with impetuous gestures, invigorated by the frustration which had been shadowing over them for the past few months, which was finding vent in the very last few hours. They both knew that moment would come sooner or later. Sakura's moans were muffled by his voracious mouth, by the ravenous kiss they exchanged as their bodies became one with each other.

"I'm sorry..." She mumbled between pants after a few moments, clutching him to her with more vigor, trapping him with her arms and legs, almost as if she feared that really the dark-haired might vanish in a cloud of smoke at any moment, or worse voluntarily decide he had enough, that he couldn't go on. Sasuke's right hand closed into a fist around a few strands of wheat which surrounded them, his forehead pressed against hers, his eyelids drooping instinctively, depriving himself of the sight of her face, a mixture of immense pleasure and agonizing grief.

She had tried in every way to postpone that moment, to prevent her father from finding her a suitable suitor, one that would meet his expectations, with a good name, a good position, the right attributes which would allow him to take over the Haruno's business over the years. That morning he had announced to her he had found the perfect candidate, without giving her a chance to express herself, to give her opinion. She could not choose, for if she did it would be him. No one but him. No one but Sasuke. And it had always been him, ever since they chased each other between those same fields as kids, heedless of the difference in class, just eager to enjoy each other's company.

"I would like to marry you. No one else..." Her right hand slid from his shoulder up to his face, over his cheeks, which were beaded with a few drops of sweat. Hers, on the other hand, were streaked with a few tears. "As we promised each other." The dark-haired bit his lower lip, continuing to embed himself into her, tightening the fingers of his left hand around her soft, pearly skin. He seemed to give the impression he didn't even hear her, but Sakura knew it was just the opposite.

And it had always been there, in those fields, that as young and naive they had promised each other the rest of their lives would be spent together, like their childhood. You will be my wife. He had announced to her with vigor and enthusiasm, unaware of the social chasm which divided them. I will make you as happy as you make me. She had replied, smiling and with her cheeks tinged with a slight and adorable blush.

Innocent and foolish. A silliness which was confirmed when, more adult and aware of the world they lived in, of the cruelty of fate that had led them to love each other in those circumstances, they had also given in and lingered, aware of the agony that would inevitably come for them.

When Sakura moaned and arched her back, the dark-haired let his lips slide down her neck, travelling down her chest, seeking and finding her soft, firm breasts. He kissed her skin so tenderly it seemed a sad paradox compared to the urgent movements of his body, the eagerness with which he explored her from the inside, enveloping himself in her core, between the wetted walls which trapped and claimed him.

"Marry me, then." Words mingled with pants, muffled by the occasional pressure of his lips against her skin. Despite this, she didn't believe for a moment she had misheard, misinterpreted, imagined, as if it were a manifestation of her desires.

"Sasuke..." The dark-haired said nothing, merely switching their positions. He was looking at her now, his dark eyes filled with agony and hope, from the desire to have her again and again, from the need for their future together to be written and not to see its end in that very instant, with their bodies united as it should be but with the peril that would be the last time. Sakura kissed him, gripping his face with her hands, her palms pressed against his cheeks as her hips moved spontaneously, seeking the pleasure they were both incapable of depriving themselves of.

"We're not children anymore." She whispered then against his lips, their warm breaths going to mingle. Sasuke ran his hands down her back, accompanying her sinuous yet urgent and desperate movements.

"But I love you just like then." The dark-haired hid his face, pressing it once more against her chest, between her breasts, perhaps not out of simple lust this time.

Sakura was silent for a few moments, in which only moans escaped from her full lips, demonstrations of a pleasure which disregarded carnal need, that went beyond and settled in her, in her soul pierced by a single name, as her body was filled by a single person.

"Run away with me." This time she thought she was imagining, that her mind, mad with sorrow and pleasure, was playing a cruel trick on her, materializing the very thing her heart yearned to hear. Then, Sasuke sought her gaze again, ignited by sparks of insane hope. "Leave your family and I will leave mine. I don’t care about the consequences on my father..." It was he who kissed her again, with a vigor fueled by his resolve. "And even less about the reputation of yours..." The young pink-haired barely tilted her head back, exposing her neck to Sasuke, who rapidly pounced on it with his lips. "So no one else will have you but me." It could have been momentary exaltation, thoughts induced by the inebriation of pleasure, the desperate desire to seek relief from pain.

"I love you so much, Sasuke." Perhaps her own senses were dulled by ecstasy as she pressed against his chest to induce him to fall back with his back to the ground. Pulling him away just to perceive him closer. Distance him to allow him to bury himself in her to the deepest meanders. She towered over him, moving against his body, pressing her hands against his chest, preventing him from coming any closer. Yet, he was the one who had her completely in his grasp, trapped by his face, his eyes, his words, burrowed into her soul, like his member embedded in her core.

"Say yes, Sakura." A plea, in contrast to the firmness with which the dark-haired felt her breasts and clutched her side. "Tell me it's what you want."