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My last entry for @ssskmonth | Prompts used Festivals and Family
Kin
Summary: When Sasuke struggles with letting go of pain from his past, Sakura and Sarada remind him that he doesn't have to do this alone.
Rating: Mature
_
“Anata?”
Sasuke stopped dusting off the shelves and looked over in Sakura’s direction. He frowned though, seeing Sakura perched on a stool dangerously, trying to clean the cobwebs of their apartment.
“I was asking…” Sakura scrunched her face in displeasure. She hadn't realized when she had left with Sasuke on his journey that it could bring this much work.
A week ago, when they unlocked the door of their apartment, back after a year with their three-month-old daughter, they had realized making their home habitable again wasn't going to be easy. The exhaustion of their journey back to Konoha hadn’t left their souls, but the Uchiha couple prioritized cleaning over resting.
Sasuke walked over to her and steadied her wobbling stool.
“What?”
Sleep deprivation had left him cranky. He had hoped that Sarada's wailing would cease after they had moved from roads to Konoha. Although he was glad that she was more safe under a roof, it hadn’t stopped her from crying the whole night.
Sakura caught the irritation laced in his voice, and considered whether she should say what she was about to.
“Obon is in two days..." She spoke cautiously, busy with her work. "I was asking if you want to…” She trailed off again, not sure how to phrase this.
“Obon?” Sasuke looked up in her direction. He was about to ask her again, when he realized. “Obon.”
Sakura turned, facing him, and asked nervously, “Should we?”
In all these years, he had never celebrated Obon. When he was a child, he remembered his mother strictly following rituals, preparing to welcome the spirits of their clan's ancestors.
He realized that although he always carried his long gone family in his heart, he never had given any damn about the festival.
“Aah,” he agreed.
Sakura's face lit up with a wide grin, but that died off when they heard Sarada crying at the top of her lungs.
While Sasuke rushed to attend Sarada, Sakura wrestled with more dust and ended up coughing.
Although Sarada’s shrill cries bore holes in his eardrum, all the chaos of his new-formed family had settled down all the internal chaos that he had carried for years.
_
Sasuke stirred out of his slumber engulfed with warmth . Sakura's body was pressed against his back, her arm snuggly thrown around him. Sarada had been quiet after days, and he felt fully rested, refreshed after a sleep devoid of nightmares too.
The light filtering from the curtain told him it was still early, and Sakura's breaths on his neck made him want to wake her up and kiss her numb. He had lost count of the number of days he had felt her bare skin on his, slowly and passionately driving her crazy. The days and nights after Sarada’s birth went by changing diapers and trying to understand the meaning between different kinds of cries, which he hadn't quite mastered yet.
Sasuke was tempted even further when Sakura pressed her lips on his neck and murmured 'morning,' her pert nipples brushing against his muscular back. Sasuke suppressed a gasp, his twitching member, and the urge to reciprocate his wife's desire. He gently pried away from his wife's leg, and regretted it when Sakura retracted herself from him.
"Anata?" Sakura sat up with a myriad of emotions on her face — confusion, hurt and rejection.
Sasuke didn't want to make her feel like that.
"I… I'm going to visit my parents' grave."
Sakura nodded and smiled, her features relaxing.
Sasuke never thought that gulping down the guilt of neglecting his dead family could be that easy.
_
Sasuke sauntered through the path that led to his parents' grave. The place was cold and distant like his heart had been for many years. Neglected even, he mused.
He stopped when he found the stone that bore his parents' name. Uchiha Mikoto and Uchiha Fugaku — names engraved with such beauty that was ironic considering the way they had died. A surge of rage and emotions pumped through his veins in a way that he was too familiar with — it had made him a person of sins that he was still redeeming for.
He stood there unable to repress the painful memories that had seeped from his past like a poison. His surroundings reverberated with the screams and blood that painted his nightmares.
Years of redemption had seemingly healed his wounds, but the sharpness of the past always cut, and the wounds bleed as they always had.
Unable to anchor himself, he looked anywhere but his parents' name. His eyes darted across the ungrazed grass, wild flowers, and puddles formed by summer rain. Stubborn weeds creeping over his parents grave, like the past that was attached to him.
His eyes caught something. And there it is, he mused again. A small pink wildflower intertwined with weeds, facing the sun. A gentle breeze that made its petals gleam in the sunlight reminded him of Sakura's unwavering love. The love that had waited for him through his sins and redemption — love that assured him every day that he no longer was in the darkness alone — love that gave him Sarada.
He crouched down, sighing. The summer heat was getting unbearable, and beads of sweat rolled down from his forehead. This reminded he should get going. Sometimes Sarada got all fussy, and it was hard for Sakura to manage her alone. Although his heart was heavy when his eyes glided over the name of his parents again, he smiled thinking about his new family.
Sasuke traced his finger on kanji of his mother's name, dirt gathering on his finger tip. He picked up the rag that he had brought with him and scrubbed the dirt and mud from the stones. With every swipe of the rag, the images of lifeless bodies of his parents became clearer in his mind. His fingers twitched, but he did his work diligently. The dirt from his parents' name was gone now, like the blood from the wooden floor that had pooled out from his parents' bodies.
Shaking his thoughts off, he held his shirt sleeve with his teeth and rolled it upwards. He went on plucking the weeds, wishing if it was this easy to pluck away memories of his past. There was a hopeful part of him — a little part — thought that with time, the pain of his lost family would wash away, but maybe hope wasn't a thing for Uchiha Sasuke.
He bid adieu to his dead parents, and got up to leave. As he walked away, he looked back over his shoulder to get a peek of the pink flower that remained. The pink flower that had grown in his life — accepting him and his past.
_
As he reached the threshold of his house, he stiffened when he couldn’t feel the familiar chakras he was accustomed to.
He looked around and found Sakura had almost finished cleaning their house. Bookshelves no longer had cobwebs, the white sheets had been removed from the furniture, and the floor was polished.
“Sakura?”
He was answered by the empty hallways and a note. It was a note from Sakura that said she was going out for grocery shopping.
He ran fingers through his hair, sighing, and walked towards the kitchen. He decided to cook a proper lunch. They had been surviving on simple food after they had returned, courtesy of Sarada's fussiness. It amazed him sometimes how their child managed to command all their attention.
Sakura always jokingly complained that it was something Sarada definitely had inherited from him. Sakura boasted that she was a quiet infant, and her parents always backed her up. Sometimes he felt a tinge of jealousy at that.
He opened the fridge and grabbed the leftover rations that they had, and he remembered Naruto grumbling about something similar. He knew he shouldn't find that soothing, but he realized in that aspect he wasn't alone.
In fact, he wasn't alone at all anymore.
Sasuke delved into cooking, but as time ticked on, he got impatient. He decided to go out and look for them. Something made him scared that he couldn't pinpoint.
As he was going to turn the stove off, he heard the click of the door knob. He heard Sakura calling him and responded.
Relief washed through him as Sakura approached him. He had been worrying over nothing. Perhaps his heart was still as fragile as his younger self's. Too afraid to lose, yet too afraid to accept his weakness.
Sakura kept the bag of groceries, grinning widely at him before she complimented the smell of the food. He was captivated by her green eyes, but his daughter seemed to have his attention now. Sarada happily clapped her hands on seeing him and wiggled in her baby sling to reach for him.
Sasuke bent down, and Sarada reached for his cheeks and patted them with her small hands, grinning toothlessly. This was Sarada's way to embrace, Sakura had told him once. Sasuke kissed her little palm before straightening himself.
"When did you return? We were sort of feeling alone, so we decided to make a quick trip to the market. "Ne, Sarada-chan?" Sakura cooed, rubbing her nose on Sarada's head, and Sarada giggled, agreeing with her.
"But someone had more fun than she expected." Sakura tickled Sarada, and she joined her in fits of laughter.
A smile slipped past his lips, and all the heaviness that had settled in his heart from that morning began to dissipate.
"She seemed to be in a good mood," Sasuke commented, looking for something from the bag.
"Yes." Sakura hummed, sifting her fingers through Sarada's hair.
His eyes lingered on them, before he started grating ginger.
"Umm, Anata? Isn't that too much?" Sakura pointed out.
Sasuke nodded, but he added it to the pan and said, "Father always liked it this way."
Sakura blinked. She didn't know how to respond. Sasuke rarely talked about his parents, so she stood there just nodding.
The space between them stilled, with only sounds of food sizzling on the pan and Sarada's squeals.
"Father used to love the spice of ginger, so Mother used to cook like this," Sasuke explained.
"I see," Sakura replied, excitement spiking in her voice.
"Mother also added less Mirin than required," Sasuke went on, and Sakura listened raptly, watching him while he cooked Gyudon.
Sakura didn't miss the melancholy in his eyes when Sasuke said that Gyudon was his father's favourite, and it stirred Sakura's heart
Sakura knew the things which are gone always hurt, but she knew too it took time to heal them. So when Sasuke told her bits of his family, she was glad that Sasuke talked about them without any resentment — sharing his lost happiness with her. She wanted to thank him, so Sakura tiptoed, her arms wrapping around Sarada, and she pecked on Sasuke's cheek.
It was unexpected, and Sasuke stared wide-eyed at the contents in the pan, while the tips of his ears turned red.
"I'll remember this when I cook next time," Sakura blushed.
Sasuke nodded, smirking.
Sarada wiggled in her sling to reach for Sasuke again while Sakura giggled and commented on how restless she was growing.
The house, the people, and the meal he had once shared together with his parents were long gone for him, but now he saw himself in Sarada who was trying to get her father's attention like he used to. He realized time had its own way to fix things.
_
Sasuke watched the sky, summer clouds lazily drifting and strings of smoke whirling between them. The smell of smoke from the neighborhood mingled with the evening breeze, and he felt nostalgic.
His clan breathed fire, and where there was fire, there was smoke. He remembered tasting the bitterness of smoke that lingered on his tongue when his lungs had flamed out a great fireball in childhood. He’d been excited to share his experience, and Itachi had confirmed with his too gentle smile that he had felt the same way
It was a memory that had been long forgotten. Years and years of using katon jutsus and chasing his older brother for revenge had made him ignorant to these feelings that he had held precious in his childhood.
The orangish hue of the setting sun told him it was time.
It was the first day of Obon. He looked around and saw the lantern that was tied at the entrance of their house swinging with the wind along with a windchime.
The lantern will guide them home, Sakura had said when she had tied them.
He knew that too. His mother had told him during childhood while Itachi had set up the bonfire for mukaebi. He had complained that bonfires are for winters, not for summers. His mother had laughed and had corrected him.
Sasuke, this bonfire and lanterns are for the spirits of our ancestors to guide their paths back home.
He had shrugged back then, because he thought he wouldn't have to bother about this in future.
Sasuke set the twigs, and lit them using a small fireball jutsu.
He sat there, remembering that Obon during his childhood had never been so solemn. Lots of people visited during that time. He hadn’t remembered any of them, though Itachi remembered some of them. Sasuke had challenged Itachi: Just you see, nii-san, next time, I'm going to remember everyone's name. Itachi had chuckled and had flicked his forehead.
The next time hadn't ever come. Before he could add more people to his growing list of people he knew, Itachi had wiped out everyone. And then Sasuke was alone.
He realized after all these years how much he had missed his older brother. He always wanted to bury the feeling because it came with the realization that Itachi was dead because of him. Itachi was dead because of Konoha.
Itachi was dead because he wanted his otouto to live.
"Anata?"
Sasuke lifted his eyes from the flames to Sakura, who looked worried. He looked back to flames.
"Are you okay?"
Sasuke nodded. He knew they had spent enough time together for Sakura to know he wasn't alright. His eyes were fixated on flames, so he didn't notice the way Sakura's eyes softened when she sat beside him.
He didn't want to ask her, but he found himself talking anyway. "Do you think Itachi can find his way?"
For the second time in the day, Sakura blinked in confusion.
Sasuke clarified again, "He doesn't even have a grave."
For a second, Sakura felt like she couldn't breathe. She had never seen Sasuke so vulnerable before.
"This place… Konoha…" He gritted his teeth. "I- I don't know how to call Konoha my home after what they did to my clan… to Itachi."
"I can't," He said, his voice louder and filled with accusation.
But as soon as these two words left his mouth, his eyes widened in the realization of what he had done. He shut his eyes and apologized to Sakura.
He felt Sakura's palm on his left cheek. It reminded him of his daughter's gentle touch — that they were his home.
Sakura smiled when his mismatched eyes met her green, and spoke softly, "Hate it till you can love it back, Sasuke-kun."
_
Sasuke swallowed the soft moan that fell out of Sakura's plump lips before he moved down on her neck, leaving a trail of kisses. When their house turned silent from Sarada's cries, they both sought comfort in their bed, limbs tangled innocently. Sasuke was comfortable enough now to delve into his wife's gentle touches. Gentle touches soon turned greedy when he kissed her the way he had wanted to that morning. It wasn't too long before their clothes were scattered across the polished wood of the floor.
He nipped her neck, eliciting a whimper and a delicious clench of her walls around his pulsing cock. He groaned and pushed deeper into her wet velvety cunt. The air from the ceiling fan cooled their sweating bodies, but the heat where they were intimately joined made both their spines tingle.
Sasuke leaned down to capture her lips again, and Sakura reciprocated wantonly meeting with his thrust. They gasped for air when they parted, saliva smeared across the corners of their lips. Sasuke held his gaze with hers, which was always soft, assuring, and accepting. Like a wanderer on a cold night regarded the flames that kept him warm, Sasuke tried to emanate his gratitude for her through his mismatched eyes.
He inched deeper, relishing the warmth of her skin. Sakura's lips parted in a silent cry when he hit the spot that he knew made Sakura come undone. Their rhythm became more erratic, and the heaving and slapping of wet skin was driving Sasuke to his own finish.
Sasuke angled his hips and thrust roughly. Sakura shuddered, her nails digging deep in his bare shoulder. He closed his eyes, focussing on the pleasure unknoting in his belly, he pushed roughly again, and felt—
Sarada's whimpers reached their ears. His eyes snapped open reflexively like he was waking in the midst of a nightmare, and Sakura's grip loosened on him. Sakura winced as he reluctantly pulled out of her. He wasn't sure if it was because Sarada's cries intensified, or if it was because they’d been interrupted.
She smiled weakly and slid out of bed. Sasuke huffed and dropped onto the bed, watching Sakura hurriedly putting his shirt to cover her curves.
When he made his way towards them, Sakura was pacing along the room, cradling Sarada in her arms trying to calm her down.
"I fed her, changed her diapers, and still she is crying," Sakura said, expression etched with worry and irritation. Sarada shrieked louder, and Sakura's patience was waning thin.
Sasuke stretched his arm towards her, and Sakura handed the baby over. When he took her in his arm, rocked her and carefully nuzzled his nose on her forehead, she stopped crying. Somehow, it felt strange yet so good that someone needed him.
He was sure Sakura was red with envy and embarrassment when she mumbled something and walked away. He couldn't help himself but let out a chuckle, and Sakura turned and laughed too.
_
Konoha's streets were overflowing with families, people enjoying and dancing around the yagura stage to the beats of Taiko drums on the second day of Obon.
"Ino and I always loved dancing to this rhythm."
Sasuke didn't remember anything from his genin days. Maybe Sakura had told him back then, but he never paid attention to it like the other things he had missed while chasing blindly after revenge. This festival, this tradition, and Sakura were always there, and he had always been a piece out of the puzzle.
But Sarada with all her charm had made him fit in the puzzle. And now he and Sakura sat on the engawa, basking in the comfortable silence that they shared while the sound of Taiko drums reverberated with his heart beats.
Sakura held Sarada close to her body. He smiled, eyes falling on the Uchiha fan on her little back.
"I sprained my ankle the previous year. It was all stupid Ino's fault."
Sakura went on telling him about her Obon experiences while his eyes lingered on the swell of her chest, the bindings tugged down for Sarada to suckle. Sarada fed herself without any complaints, her little fingers clutching on folds of the beautiful green yukata Sakura was wearing.
The beautiful cherry blossom print on her green yukata accentuated her beauty, but it was the Uchiha crest that she sewed on her yukata in the afternoon that accentuated her beauty.
Sasuke's eyes trailed upwards to her exposed skin, and he noticed the hitch in her breath when his eyes stayed on the purplish mark he had given her the night before. They locked eyes, trapping her green with his mismatched ones.
Sakura blushed furiously under his gaze. Sasuke smirked and asked, "Want to go to the festival?"
_
The sound of heavy breathing disturbed the silence, as both of them came down from their high, basking in the afterglow. A sheen of sweat covered them like velvet, limbs entangled and limp. Sakura's yukata lay crumpled between their bodies, tugged upwards and sideways unceremoniously.
Sasuke had committed to memory the way her pink hair seamlessly smudged with the green of her yukata when he had pushed inside her from behind, losing himself to pleasure. His fingers lightly traced her pink nipples, and Sakura gasped.
She turned her head back, and Sasuke pulled her closer to his body, his palm now resting over her beating heart. Sakura smiled, and Sasuke realized there were so many colours that adorned his life now — the red of her lips, the pink of her hair, the green of her eyes, and that mirthful smile.
His heart skipped a beat when he felt Sakura's heart dancing under his palm, synchronising with his. Their lips found their way to each other, the uchiwa on the Sakura's garment silently observing their love.
_
A wisp of smoke rose into the air while twigs in the bonfire crumbled down to ashes. Sasuke sat in front of the extinguished bonfire, looking above at the dark sky.
The moon hid behind the clouds and stars twinkled, trying hard to compensate for the overcast skies. A breeze touching his skin gave him a familiar feeling. He had spent more time under open skies wandering than under a roof with a family. However, tonight he felt the same heaviness that he had carried for a long time.
After they had dinner, Sakura had reminded him that it was the last day of Obon. Reluctantly, he had lit the okokuri-bi — the bonfire that sent the spirits back to their resting place. Maybe he didn't want to part with his dead family. Maybe holding on to the illusion where his father, mother and brother were with him was easier.
The breeze swept the hair that covered his eyes, his mismatched orbs growing wet. It wasn’t because of anger anymore, though. It just hurt. He clutched at his chest, fingers digging into his shirt, trying to soothe the pain that was there. An invisible pain that he only owned — that Sakura and Sarada couldn't replace.
"Sara-chan, did you like it?"
Sasuke snapped out of his thoughts as Sakura approached him. Sarada fiddled with a toy that Sakura bought recently for her. Sarada cooed in excitement, and Sakura giggled.
When she reached closer to him, Sakura stretched out her hand towards him. Words were not their way, and Sakura smiled gently, coaxing him to take her hand.
And Sasuke did.
Because there were things Sakura and Sarada couldn't replace, but he could relive and recreate memories with them. Severing bonds would never ease his pain, he knew now; instead, new bonds would help him embrace the old ones.
They were there for him — he wasn't alone, and he didn't need to do this on his own.
_
FFN | AO3
Obon is a Japanese custom to honor the spirits of one's ancestors. This custom involves a family reunion holiday during which people return to ancestral family places and visit and clean their ancestors' graves when the spirits of ancestors are supposed to revisit the household altars. It has been celebrated in Japan for more than 500 years and traditionally includes a dance, known as Bon Odori.
Credits: Inspired from Warm by @catflorist . For those who haven't read, please read this wonderful piece.
Thanks to @fm-white for telling me more about rituals of Obon.
Thanks for @fictionalquacker's headcanon that Fugaku loves beef, which helped me making an assumption that it could be Gyudon. Also thanks to lovely @birkastan2018 for giving some tips about cooking Gyudon 💪. A big thanks to @theredconversegirl for naming my fic 🥺. Believe me, I would be forever grateful to you for this❤️
Thanks to @something-like-air for beta-ing this. 🤗
Last but not the least, @thatsakurastan :") with her constant support and nagging, I was able to complete and post this fic. You deserve big slabs of chocolate!🍫🍫🍫
Prompt: Festival | AO3 link here. Connect with me on Twitter. Happy SS Month everyone! 🌸🍅🥗 @ssskmonth
Funny how things change over time – from Uchiha Sasuke, youngest heir among the biggest clan in Konohagakure, most handsome, the brightest, the one with highest potential to Uchiha Sasuke, the traitor.
It has become difficult to stay beside Haruno Sakura, the girl who bugged him to no end at the academy but now the world-renowned medical ninjutsu specialist, the peak flower of the Hidden Leaf Village, the most beautiful and the strongest but also the woman he loves.
Her admirers flock daily to the village’s hospital where she is the head of medical corps, and to her and Ino’s newly established mental facility. These so-called patients have a unique array of illnesses which often end up with a scolding prescription rather than a real medical certificate. He wonders if he deserves to monopolize her affections.
These thoughts stay with him even if she spends nights in his state-sanctioned apartment, her steady breaths against his chest, and her hair splayed between his fingers, even if she prepares him bento boxes for lunch as he gets ready to spend the whole day briefing the council of elders of his missions, even if she kisses him in the shower before leaving. No one knew they were even together. This is a burden he had to carry – the stigma of his name, the inability of society to forgive, the consensus that he doesn’t belong.
And so it catches him off guard when Sakura brings up the summer festival. “I already picked out a fabric for my yukata. It’s so pretty I don’t want it to go to waste.” She bats him with her puppy eyes impression – her emerald irises jumping at his defenses.
“Sakura,” he starts as he reaches for her hands on the couch. “I want to but you know how it is.”
“And you know how I don’t care about any of that, right?” She looks at their intertwined fingers, and she blushes, quite not used to with their intimacy although they are already quite far in that particular journey. “I just want to see the fireworks…together.”
“We can see the fireworks together. They’re on the same sky anyway.”
Sakura lifts her fingers away from his grasp. “I’ve spent countless summers watching them alone. Now you’re here, and you don’t even want to go. I think I’m gonna sleep early.”
She’s angry. Sasuke finishes creating new storage scrolls and climbs on the bed with her. He hugs her with his lone arm and breathes in the fading lavender scent on her hair. “Maybe I can compromise.”
Sasuke apologizes with a fancy dinner the next day, and by dinner, that meant miso soup, grilled mackerel, kani salad, and her favorite – blueberry muffins. Sakura beams seeing the freshly baked dessert on their table. She also sees two masks on the edge, the compromise he talked about while she was already drowsy in slumber.
He holds them up – a fox and a dragon – and he is rewarded with a grin. “Wear your yukata tomorrow, Sakura.”
--------
She is beautiful, she has always been, and he loved her long pink hair ever since they met. When she cut it off in the Forest of Death, he felt a slight of pang of loss, even more so when it was because of him. Finally grown to her waist, she lets them down for the night in a long single braid adorned with cherry blossoms and her fringes clipped to the side with two butterfly pins. Her yukata, white and adorned with stars, fits her like second skin. She is beautiful.
They walk together hand in hand in the lantern-lit street filled with the crowd. No one actually pays them attention, everyone is too busy catching fish, playing shooting games, and trying all food stalls. They find a space on the riverbank, and they sit together on the grass, hands still clasped with each other.
“Are you happy?” Sasuke asks behind his mask. He slightly regrets this arrangement since he cannot see her expression, and Sakura has these charming microexpressions, like she wears her heart on her sleeve, an open page for everyone to read.
Before she could say anything, a pair of young men also dressed in yukata taps her shoulder. Sasuke immediately lets go of her hand.
“Dr. Haruno! We were right to come tonight. You never fail to go to summer festivals.”
Sakura takes off her mask and smiles back at them. “How did you know it was me?”
“We can spot your pink hair anywhere, Ma’am.”
“We can immediately see you in the sea of crowd. Do you need company?”
“It would be sad to see your outfit go unappreciated.”
Sasuke can feel a headache coming on. He is never the jealous type but the audacity of these kids to hit on Sakura.
She tilts her head, and her voices takes on an apologetic tone. “I’m actually with someone.” To drive the point further, she reaches for his hand and returns her fingers to where they were before they came. “You can enjoy the rest of the festival.”
Sasuke eyes them through his mask, and true enough, they are unperturbed because why would Sakura spend this important social evening with someone hiding behind a prop. But they eventually leave, knowing when to respect her wishes and knowing what happens if they don’t.
More people start filling the riverbank, indicating the start of the fireworks. Sakura eases in closer to him and wraps her arm with his. To their surprise, an elderly man sits beside Sasuke and waves to Sakura.
“Dr. Haruno.” He surmises this must be a previous patient of hers.
“It’s nice to see you with company this year. I was actually thinking of introducing my son to you later this month.”
Sakura chuckles, sensing the annoyance ooze out from Sasuke. “Oh my, there’s no need.”
“I see that. You look happy, happier than I’ve seen you in the past years,” the old man remarks then he fixes his gaze on the man beside him. “You.”
Sasuke slightly shifts to face him and bows in respect. “Good evening, Sir.”
“I’ve seen this girl come to the summer festival every year without fail. She would sit on the riverbank, her hair done up, with some makeup on, and wait for the fireworks. And when they finally light up, she would allow herself to cry, hiding her tears in the celebration, thinking no one looks beside them when the sky is showered with beautiful explosions. I sometimes think why the hell would a gorgeous girl spend the festival like that and watch fireworks with her eyes on the ground. And this year again, she’s here. You better not make her cry.”
“Oji-chan, you can stop now. You’re traumatizing my date,” Sakura lightly protests. She gives him a smile and words a soundless thank you.
“My child, he deserves to know. Anyway, I’ll leave you two and my knees are starting to hurt again.” The old man starts to get up, but he stares openly at Sasuke, piercing the mask barrier with a glare. “I’m serious though, you better not make this girl cry again.”
Sakura laughs and pulls Sasuke tighter. “Of course, he won’t. You come visit me tomorrow Oji-chan so I can prescribe you some meds. Okay?”
The old man pats the top of Sakura’s head and walks away into the crowd. The countdown starts from the opposite of the riverbank, and they hear the explosion. Colors burst into the velvet sky, and her emerald eyes follow the bright traces of the sparkling lights.
Sasuke slowly lifts off his mask and places it on the grass. He foregoes the sight above and focuses on the one beside him, memorizing every line on her face, committing them to his memory, savoring the awed glint in her eyes. He stays like that for the duration of the show without care for anyone who might have recognized him.
She finally notices his look and shifts her attention. He lets go of her hand and allows his fingers to tuck a stray strand behind her ear then he brings her closer to him and plants a soft kiss on her lips, their first public kiss, shrouded comfortably by the distracted crowd and the ephemeral lights above.
“I love you,” he whispers against her ear, and she responds by leaning against his chest with his arm around her, enjoying the last seconds of the show, a giddy smile on her face.
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It was that time of the year, Sasuke thought, as he walks into the crowds of the unfamiliar village.
He grunted his annoyance when someone pushed him forward causing him to stumble a few steps to the front. He glares behind him–at no one really, because he doesnt know who has hit him.
That was when he saw her, the familiar short pink haired kunoichi, standing at the other side of the road looking at something on display at the booth she's at.
Sakura. His mind screamed.
As if hearing his mind voice, said girl raised her head up. Sasuke's breath caught in his throat as he watches Sakura's eyes widen in surprised.
Instantly, Sakura snaps from her train of thought as she all but run from across the road towards the boy she has yearn to see. She feels content when Sasuke just rooted in his spot, waiting for her to get to him. She half expected for him to attack her with his famous chidori if she takes one more step forward. Meeting him the first time at Orochimaru promised her as much.
"Sasuke-kun." She calls out breathlessly when she finally halting to a stop before him, green green eyes twinkling with delight.
"Sakura." The boy said, didn't bother to break their eye contact.
"What are you doing here?" She asked, her hands clasping each other behind her back, a habit she has always had.
"None of your concern."
If Sakura feels offended she doesn't show it, she just beamed at him, "I'm on a solo D-rank mission in this village. Thought I should stay for a while to see the festival, since I'll be missing one back home."
"Hn." He responded. Typical Sakura for being bothered by something as unimportant as that. They were engulfed by an awkward silence afterwards, as both doesn't know what to say to each other.
Sakura decided to break the ice, "Let's visit the festival together."
"Can't. I need to go."
"Just for a while, I promised. You'll go back to wherever you are in no time."
Sasuke sighs as he agrees, "Hn." Not like he has any where else to go anyway. He walks in and out of Orochimaru's hideout every once in a while. The sannin knew he's not going anywhere as long as Itachi haven't been defeated yet.
Sakura grins at his response, and quickly grab his hand as she makes a bee line to the nearest booth with Sasuke in tow.
It was an eventful evening. At that short time together, he noticed that Sakura is so easily entertained; squeals gleefully at a squishy plush animal–which he rolls his eyes at, grinning from ear to ear as she won herself some games, and letting out an unexpected giggle when Sasuke lost to her when she challenged him on one of those boring games.
"This should be easy, even for me." Sakura exclaimed pulling him to one booth at the far end of the festival site.
"This is kunai throwing, Sakura." He said pointedly, like she's making him a joke. Sakura chuckles at him.
"Come on. Look at the first prize." She points out to one of the prizes lining up at the display section.
Sasuke stares at the expensive looking pair of black gloves, "Win that for me, will you?" Sakura's cheeks tainted pink as she looks at him from under her lashes. Her big green eyes went impossibly large, he thought its going to fall out of its socket.
Sasuke turns around abruptly, and get those damn kunai and throw it straight at the three targets with ease.
They are sitting on the highest point of the area, staying a little further from other people, just enjoying the view. When the fireworks shot up in the sky, Sasuke avert his eyes to look at the girl beside him, staring at her whilst she looks up at the colourful sky.
"I had fun today, Sasuke-kun." She said as she lower her gaze to look at her companion. "Thank you."
He can't seem to look away as they stare at each other. The look of longing, sadness and regret adorned the sweet face of the girl before him. At that moment, he can feel his heart aching, though he doesn't understand what is it that it aches for.
Her expressive green eyes closes for a second before he feels rather than see her lips land on his cheek. Sakura's lips linger where it is for a few second, before she pulls away.
"Come back when you're done with your revenge. I'll wait for you." He can see the obvious tears pooling in the dam of her eyes as she fights it from bursting out.
"I'll always wait." She whispers again, as if to emphasize her points. She gives him one last smile before she arises from her sit on the ground.
Sasuke watched at her retreating back, wonders what exactly he is feeling at that moment.