“I hope you forgive me for intruding.” Sakura’s former mentor sits at her desk. Tsunade still looks like she never ages, but Sakura notes the fine lines that sprinkle her temple. There are things that Tsunade has allowed to be—like time.
“You’re never a stranger.” Sakura approaches her for a hug. “Sorry about the mess, I finished at midnight.” Open scrolls on medicinal innovations litter her usual squeaky clean desk.
Tsunade rolls her eyes and smirks, “Honey, have you seen mine?"
“Well, compared to Kakashi and Naruto, you did fine.”
Tsunade’s sight lingers on the edge of the files. Sakura traces her eyeline and sees what caught her attention. She fakes a laugh and tries to sweep the letter under another larger scroll.
“He’s writing?”
“To them.” Sakura notes the disbelief in Tsunade’s inquiry that bubbles under the surface. “Not to me.” She just basically told Tsunade that she steals these letters from her other teammates. Not that they would notice anyway, and sometimes Kakashi leaves them on her table.
Her mentor shrugs and throws an arm over her shoulder. They watch the cherry blossom tree outside of the office, long beyond its flowering season, but still a sight to behold. “Makes sense, considering how he writes.”
“It’s sparse, but he has always been economical that way.”
Tsunade stifles a laugh. “Didn’t I teach you about forensic handwriting?”
Sakura shakes her head, unsure of the conversation’s direction.
“Sasuke writes fast. His letters overlap, almost unintelligible, but whenever your name is mentioned, each stroke becomes heavier, bigger, leaves a more lasting imprint on the scroll. He’s also experiencing some intense feelings. It’s intentional, the way he writes about you.”
“What do you make out of it?”
“Like you give him peace.”
Sakura could only laugh. “I don’t….receive letters yet.”
“You’ll know when it comes.”
When her first letter lands on her windowsill a month later, Sakura notes the difference in handwriting. She asks him about it when he comes home and he asks her to go with him on a hike. On top of a hill overlooking the village, a picnic spread under them, a bracelet of forget-me-nots in progress in his hand.
“Do you use different pens?” she jests.
“For one thing, you’re more critical with things like handwriting than the two. You often complained of Iruka's style, didn't you?” Sasuke replies. He uses his mouth to close the string of flowers, and gives them to her. “I just also like writing your name.”
She wears the bracelet nonetheless but feels as if it’s her heart dangling on her sleeve with the way his answer left her unsatisfied.
“But not as much as I love saying it,” Sasuke adds, staring at her now and the way the afternoon sun paints her skin. “Sakura.”
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Something smells like earth, something akin to fresh cut grass but with a hint of sweetness. The light scent wakes him up, haunting the edges of his sleep in the most comforting manner.
Sasuke stirs from his slumber, a sensation of softness blanketing him. As he blinks away the remnants of sleep, he takes in a sea of pink petals and pale-yellow pollen surrounding him, twinkling in the first swirls of early morning light. It’s pink; so many different shades of pink. A bright, confident pink covers everything: covering his cloak with petals, dusting the tips of his eyelashes, wiping away the deepest midnight from the heavens. Sasuke rubs the rheum away from his sight. He doesn’t remember falling asleep, much less under an annoyingly pink tree. He moves to clear the petals from his shoulder when a fleeting moment of confusion gives way to realization. Sasuke picks up a single petal, letting it dance between his fingers.
‘Ah,’ he thinks to himself, ‘Cherry blossoms. Hanami is over.’
A slight breeze plucks the singular sakura petal away from his grasp. In its place, the wind deposits at least twenty more. Each petal sits at his lap, taunting him with tiny fragments of memories that he's tried, unsuccessfully, to suppress with every step Sasuke has taken away from Konoha. The more he tries to clean himself, the more vividly they return. He brushes the pollen off, but it sticks to him stubbornly.
The weight of his thoughts is heavy, even if the petals themselves are light. Konoha, his home, is where Sakura remains. Every step he's taken since leaving has been in search of redemption, to atone for his past and to become someone worthy of her affection. But with each step, instead of distancing himself from the memories, they've only grown clearer.
But one memory stands out, a moment that both binds and distances him from Sakura: their first kiss before his most recent departure.
That night back in Konoha, the world was shrouded in inky blue. It's the eve of Sasuke's departure, the once vengeful avenger deciding to place himself on a path to redemption. His sins and mistakes litter the air around him like a tempest of debris, pulling Sasuke away to clear the air.
Sakura sat with him on the old training grounds that night, shouldered hunched up and looking away from him in frustration. She knows he's leaving. He heard the beat of her heart from where she sat next to him, not knowing if it broke all over again for him.
His mismatched eyes, once burning with hatred, grew tired of his own failing tongue. Why couldn’t he do this? Why couldn’t Sasuke just say those three little words? Years of listening to Orochimaru’s half-truths and having to speak only the words that advanced his goals had stunted Sasuke. He couldn’t bring himself to even think of the right combination of words to explain his departure. And now Sakura was mad at him. Should he give up? Should he just get up and leave?
"Sakura," he heard the sound of his own voice reach out, the usually cool and calm voice betraying a hint of desperation.
‘Trying,’ he thought. ‘I need to keep trying.’
She looked at him then, her green eyes shimmering with unshed sadness. "Stop," she stated, trying not to hear anything to make her more upset. “I don’t want to hear it.”
Sasuke shakes his head then, the weight of his decision making him avoid her gaze. "I need to find myself, Sakura. I need to make amends."
A few seconds passed between them. Sakura’s own silence wrapped around Sasuke, stretched in his heart with fibers. Before his defection, Sakura's voice had been a constant in Sasuke's life, filled with chatter, laughter, and unwavering affection. Every moment of Sakura’s quietness served as a stark reminder of the distance he'd placed between them.
"But you’re leaving us. Again," she emphasized; voice barely able to stifle her anger.
Sasuke tilted his head, his eyes searching hers for permission. A surge of newfound determination rushes through the nerves deep within his body. Sasuke cradles her chin within his single hand as if she were a delicate petal. He is done trying. If his lips won’t transform his need into words, he could put them to much better use.
For the first time, their lips met. A whispered gasp escaped from Sakura’s mouth before melting against him. He twined his fingers at the hem of her shirt, twisting the white trim closer. Her hands found their way to his hair, her nails pulling whisper-soft groans from deep within his chest.
In deep in the rumble of his heart, he can see it: He can see himself getting tangled up in Sakura, falling in love, getting married, having children, being happy, having a family again. Sasuke can see it all. But Sasuke doesn’t deserve any of it. Not yet.
Soon – much too soon for his body’s own liking – Sasuke draws back. Sakura’s fingers grazed her just-kissed lips, the echo of his touch blooming across her rosy cheeks.
Sasuke gently pulled her against his torso, twin heartbeats thundering under clothes. He rests his chin atop Sakura’s head, breathing in her light scent and letting her pink hair cloud his vision. It’s just that simple, just that easy now to let those three words finally cascade from his tongue. He says, “wait for me."
She nods, trying to hide her overt excitement. "Always."
The next morning, he left.
Now, as he rubs the petals between his fingers, Sasuke remembers it all at once.
He remembers the look in Sakura's eyes that would've loved him for a lifetime and yet he left it all behind. Sasuke told himself that he was doing it for her, to become a better man, someone she deserved. Yet now, covered in a million reminders of Sakura, and Sakura, and oh, god, Sakura, he questions whether he's managed to achieve that.
He remembers the exact sensation of Sakura's fingers brushing against his hand, the texture of her skin, soft and warm. The muted sound of her laughter fills his ears, so familiar that it might as well have been yesterday.
Sasuke remembers a shared bento under a tree. He can almost taste the rice balls Sakura made for a young Sasuke, sprinkled with just the right amount of salt and filled with pickled plum. The tartness of the plum, combined with the saltiness of the rice, creates a dance of flavors in his mouth. The weight of that day, of sitting beside her and sharing food after a hard day of training, comes flooding back. He remembers her joy beside him, her easy breathing, the way the sunlight dappled through the trees and played on her face, and how he had caught himself stealing glances.
Resting his head against the trunk of the tree, he closes his eyes and lets the memories wash over him. The way her eyes light up when she's passionate about something, the soft timbre of her voice when she's explaining a medical technique, or just the simple warmth of her hand when she reassured him during their most tumultuous times.
Sasuke remembers Sakura. Adorned head to toe with a million tiny cherry blossom petals, Sasuke remembers Sakura all too well.
The sun has begun to clear out the colors of dawn, transforming purple skies into golden light. It is morning, and Sasuke knows he needs to continue forward on his path. He knows he still has a long way to go, many challenges to face. But no matter how far Sasuke goes, he's still got her all over him.
‘Tch, what's so special about her anyway?’ Sasuke thought glaring down at the girl rows below him. His mind wouldn’t stop thinking about her and he couldn’t figure out why. At first, he thought it was because of how she humiliated him on the first day, but she apologised, and it’s been two weeks since then. His Mom always said that when someone apologised that you should forgive them. Even though he was the one at fault, so even without an apology, she wasn’t in the wrong. Not that he’ll admit that out loud or to his friends.
But it wasn’t hatred or vengeance he was after then what was it?
Sakura felt a shiver feeling the Uchiha's glare from above. She apologised just like Mama and Papa said. So why is he still glaring at her? Sakura turned her head nervously; she should be paying attention to the teacher but how could she when the fate of the world rested in her little hands?
When she turned Sasuke felt his face turn beet red at looking at the ‘blushing girl’ and turned his face away to cover the redness of his cheeks. His heart started to do that weird pounding thing again.
‘Tsk, annoying pest.’
Sakura felt her soul leave her body and was frozen solid like a statue. ‘Annoying… pest?’ The words kept echoing in her mind repeatedly. Ino noticed this and shook the girl. “Uh, Sakura are you okay?” All she got in response was a little ‘bah’ as she collapsed onto her desk feeling dizzy.
“The teacher will get mad if you fall asleep again.” Sakura nodded knowing that she still needed to concentrate in class. She couldn't let this get the better of her. But if Sasuke hated her then the world would be doomed.
‘I’ve got to make him like me so Mama’s plan will succeed.’ With that in mind right after class, Sakura went up to the Uchiha to befriend him. His two friends gave her a weird look. As if expecting another fight to happen. “I… I want to be friends.” She had a determined look on her face.
“Haah? Are you out of your mind?” Suigetsu asked.
“After what you did-”
“Leave it!”
“Eh but she-”
“I said leave it!” Both Suigetsu and Kiba gulped letting Sasuke through to see the girl. She wouldn’t back down this time. Nope, they’ll shake hands and by the end of the week they'll be the best of friends. Sasuke stared her down, trying to figure out (maybe besides the weird hair colour) why she bothered him so much. Instead, he just felt his ears flush, and his heartbeat quickened looking into her big green eyes.
“I-”
“As if that would happen!” And he ran past her, his two friends taken aback quickly went after him. “Eh? Sasuke, wait for us!” Kiba called out. Sakura again felt her world crumble
“He really hates me.” She wanted to cry.
‘I don’t think that’s hate…’ the blonde sweat dropped at the scene, but she’ll let her figure it out in her own time. Why she would even want to be friends with him was questionable, but she couldn’t do anything about that.
‘I’m sorry Mama.’
~~~
“Achoo!”
“Ah, someone must be thinking about you.” Dan teased Tsunade setting down her tea.
‘I hope not.’ How can she be doing a good job as a spy if she was being noticed like this?
Sasuke and Sakura laying in bed one morning when her alarm starts blaring —they both flinch.
“Dear, I need you to move.” He’s practically draped over her, his arm laying heavily across her midsection.
“…call in sick.” Sasuke grunts.
Sakura tries to pry his arm off. He’s remains unmoving.
“You know I can’t.” She says softly, slight disappointment in her voice. Sasuke fakes a cough next to her neck.
“Your husband is sick and you would hate for your patients to catch what I have.”
“Tempting.” Sakura reassures. They both hear the sounds of Sarada making tea from the kitchen down the hall.
“Besides. I want to see Sarada off, she has a mission today.” Sakura answers, stretching her limbs underneath his hold.
“Hm.” Sasuke breathes against her neck once more, this time defeated.
“Don’t pout. Perhaps I can pull a few strings and be home after lunch.” Sakura finally pries her grumpy husband off of her.
“See that you do. Your husband may as well be dead.”
Sakura watches from above the bed as Sasuke settles himself in the space she’s just vacated. “…I’ll be out in a minute.” He mutters into her pillow. Her dramatic husband was cute sometimes.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
During the weekly farmers market Naruto rushes over to the Uchiha Farms display clutching a bouquet of lilies in one hand and two pieces of honey cake in the other.
“A new bakery opened up in the town square!” Naruto informs Sasuke while eating one of the cakes. “The woman who owns it is at Ino’s stand handing out free samples to everyone who buys a flower arrangement.”
“Ok?” Sasuke isn’t sure why this matters since he’s not a fan of sweets nor does he have a reason for buying flowers.
“Here.” Naruto shoves the remaining confection at him. “Try it! I bet you’ll like it more than you think!”
Reluctantly, he takes a bite. Not bad, actually Sasuke thinks it’s really good. Still too sweet for his personal tastes, but he can tell someone who really cares about their craft made this. “It’s fine.”
“I’m gonna give these flowers to Hinata,” Naruto says. “The cute baker girl, Sakura I think her name is, mentioned coming around later and introducing herself to the other vendors later. She’s hard to miss so be nice to her, alright?” With that the blonde runs off, leaving Sasuke to finish the honey cake without complaint.
At first Sasuke wonders what his friend means by she being hard to miss until he spots someone with blossom pink hair speaking with his brother by the wooden containers of cherries and strawberries.
“Sasuke,” Itachi waves him over. “This is Sakura, the owner of the new bakery in town.”
“Hi!” Her singsong voice pleasantly says. “Nice to meet you!”
“Likewise. I had one of your honey cakes earlier, it was good.”
“That’s high praise coming from him,” Itachi adds.
“I’m glad you enjoyed them,” she’s smiling from ear to ear, a tinge if blush spreading across her cheeks. Must be from the sun, he thinks, just like the burst of warmth climbing up the back of his neck.
“What were you talking about before I came over?”
“I’m interested in having produce from Uchiha Farms delivered to my shop, maybe two or three times a week.”
“Shouldn’t be a problem,” Itachi assures. “I can add you to my route. Just let me know what you want and how much.”
Before she can answer, Ino calls her back to their stand for a moment. “I’ll be right back!”
Sasuke turns to his brother as soon as she’s far enough away. “I can do it. Handle her order,” he clarifies.
“Are you sure? I already have a few deliveries in that area.”
“Hn. I don’t mind. If you want you can take my stop at the schoolhouse near the edge of town.” Bait Sasuke hopes his brother takes since the teacher who runs the place is Izumi, the girl Itachi has been eyeing for weeks.
The corner of his lips curve into a smirk. “Ah, I guess that’s a fair trade.”
Over the course of the next few weeks, Sasuke gradually learns more about Sakura when he delivers her order and when she stops by his stall at the farmers market — her parents own a bakery back in her hometown and she wanted to start her own, she and Ino attended the same school as children and continued to keep in touch, she loves strawberry mochi, and is very single.
Whenever he stops by she gives him an extra piece of cake or fruit pie she made, although she soon learns he isn’t a big fan of sweets. “I noticed your nose scrunches up before taking a bite. It’s cute,” she says to him one day, “I’ll cut back on the sugar when you’re here again.”
Next time he stops by she gave him a delicious cheese tart instead, causing something to bloom in his chest. Something he doesn’t want to name just yet.
“Why haven’t you asked Sakura out??” Naruto is loitering around the Uchiha Farms stand during the weekly market. “She’s popular, ya know.”
“Hn. None of my business,” Sasuke mutters under his breath, throwing a glance across the road at her set up only to see Idate chatting her up. Of course he’s aware of Sakura’s reputation around Konoha of being the sweet baker with even sweeter goods. Yet he doesn’t believe she treats him any different than a customer or their friends, she’s just naturally friendly to everyone.
“Do you really think she’s giving the rest of us free food?” Naruto brings up. “She only started adding savory options at her shop after learning you prefer them over her usual stuff. Trust me, she likes you.”
From the other end, once Idate finally leaves, Sakura meets his gaze with a bright expression.
Perhaps Naruto has a point and he needs to get out of his own head. He can try a more subtle approach, buying her a pink and yellow dahlias should convey his sentiments, even if it means having to withstand Ino’s prying questions.
“What are those for?” Sakura asks as she’s packing up her table for the day.
“I got them for you.” The tips of his ears begin to burn.
“They’re beautiful Sasuke!” She takes them thankfully. “They smell wonderful too.”
He takes her basket so she can hold the flowers as they walk back to the bakery.
“I-um-had something I wanted to ask you too,” Sakura goes on. “I heard from Itachi that you really like tomatoes. I found this recipe for a tomato and goat cheese tart. If you’re not too busy tomorrow, I was thinking we could make it together and have it for dinner….as a date? Unless you’d rather do something else?”
“That sounds perfect,” Sasuke says. “I’ll look forward to it.”
The forest was humming, the birds were waking up, the moon was driving away the darkness with its last strength, and the quiet breaths of his friends were keeping him company. Sasuke sat leaning against a tree, listening to all these sounds around him. The night was slowly drawing to a close. Another day would come, bringing him closer to his goal.
Again, he could not sleep. His thoughts, the scary ones and the ones overflowing his mind, would not let him sleep a wink. They plagued him most on missions, such as today's, where nothing special was happening. Sasuke couldn't focus on anything other than tormenting himself about wasting time.
A bird sat on a branch, watching him fiercely. Its black eyes practically drilled a hole in his head. Did he know what the boy was thinking about now? Did he understand his pain, disappointment, suffering? Was he even able to comprehend it, when even people couldn't?
"Sasuke-kun?" a quiet, girlish voice sounded in his head. Sasuke turned his head, crossing his eyes with Sakura, "Why are you awake?"
Instead of answering her right away, he stood up and walked over to her, crouching down. Barely awake, the girl blushed, lifting herself up and leaning on her elbows. Sasuke squinted his eyes.
"Go to sleep, it's still early."
He thought Sakura was so unaware of everything yet that she would listen to him without any problems, but he was mistaken.
"You didn't answer my question." she did not take her eyes off his face.
Her tenacious nature made it difficult for him to play down the inaccessible and mysterious man. Sasuke really tried to avoid explaining his behavior, but Sakura wouldn't let him.
"I'm just not tired anymore." he replied nonchalantly.
"You look like you haven't slept a wink all night." he didn't answer her, hiding his restrained expression under his hair; how she was able to figure him out so easily "Oh..."
"Can we not pursue this topic any further?"
He rose and returned to his previous seat, deeming the conversation over. Sakura, however, had other plans. She approached him and leaned against a tree, as if entering his private space was the usual thing to do.
"I'll stay here. It will be easier for you to sleep this way. For me, at least, it is when I know I have a person next to me who watches over me and cares about me." she pulled her knees up to her chin.
He didn't like that she cared for him so much and that she worried so much. It made him feel emotions. Emotions that he didn't want to feel because they were sneaky and treacherous; they made you make radical decisions, delayed you from your plans and changed your future to make room for another person. And Sasuke couldn't do that.
"I don't need..." he paused when he heard her steady breathing again.
Sakura fell asleep momentarily, having rested her head against the trunk. Her hand fell inert along her body, and her palm touched his hand. Sasuke stared at it, then, as if guided by instinct rather than rational thought, grabbed her two fingers and squeezed them lightly, making sure she was still next to him.
This is where it all started. She planted a small seed in his heart that would grow and grow over time, and Sasuke would not know how to get rid of it. Not that he wants to.
This was a legend far, far older than she was. Its origins were lost to time and repeated telling had muddied the details, but she could attest that most of it was real—after all, Sakura Haruno had contributed to its unweaving.
Because now, nothing remained of all the legend’s mysteries. Now, she slept in the tender embrace of an erstwhile terror, marveling at him: the way the light of dawn settled softly on this shapely mass of dreaming man, whose legs were tangled up with hers under the covers of their marriage bed.
She had conquered the beast, and the spoils were all hers.
Sakura could scarcely believe it, but here they were: released from the snare of enchantments, free to embark upon the rest of their lives unstoried.
But first there was the tale, the terrible tapestry before her touch had unraveled it. Thus we return to the beginning.
***
Once upon a time, a tyrant king ruled over his lands without mercy. He was as beautiful as he was cruel, with eyes clear and dark as a winter’s night, and pale unblemished skin. His stature was likewise unmatched. In all the land, there was no one who stood as his peer in strength and agility—who could mount a horse and wield a sword as well as he did.
The monarch’s name was Sasuke Uchiha.
All those who lived within his domain were compelled to bend to his will: from the lowliest peasant to the wealthiest noble. So absolute was his power that nothing mattered save what he wished—not even the most heartrending plea could move him, nor the most meritorious display of skill.
Or so the stories held.
But there came a time when an old sorceress knocked at the doors of his castle, seeking shelter. On a whim, the king allowed the crone entry, but soon turned her out upon seeing her face. She had given no name, but he thought he recognized her features—wasn’t this hag of the Senju, the ancient enemy of his house? So Sasuke sent his knights to whipping her, until her back was bloodied and shredded into ribbons. Then she was thrown out onto the road, to fend for herself against the king’s own hounds.
“Away with you, Senju scum! The likes of you have no claim to my hospitality!”
The woman met the despot’s gaze with a slippery smile, her eyes gleaming with foreknowledge.
“So be it, brat. But you will regret this.” Her tongue slid across her bloodstained bottom lip, erasing the red. She bared her teeth at Sasuke, and despite himself, he shivered in the face of her stare. “Your rottenness will become manifest, Uchiha boy: on your form and in your mind. You will wish, very dearly, that you did not cross me—oh! And you will find no salvation on your own!”
She laughed, sounding younger and more hale than her appearance suggested. The king and his guard knights stood frozen to the spot as she went on, “Nothing will ease your suffering henceforward… except if you find yourself a flower that willingly blooms in hell!”
The crone vanished after that, seemingly into the mist. As soon as she had gone, the king sank to the ground, bent by a sudden affliction. A yell tore itself out of his mouth as the cracking of bones commenced, twisting his tall frame into a wretched hunch. His fingers curled into his palms as he fought the urge to scratch at his skin, which was slowly being covered by coarse and wiry fur. He threw his head back, eyes flashing open to reveal the blood-red irises of a predator, framed by ghoulish yellow sclera.
“Damn you, Senju witch!” The sound that burst from his throat hardly sounded human. Sasuke thrashed and growled as his robes gave way to burgeoning flesh. Even the stoutest of his knights shrank back from him in terror.
“Damn you!”
The curse had begun.
.
.
.
.
.
read the rest of it here:
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works