Summary: ONESHOT. [SasuSaku] He's been there. He's always been there. It just took me thirteen years, a fight, and attempting to replace him with my new boyfriend to realize it.
Disclaimer: standard disclaimer(s) applied.
Warning: suggestive theme(s) later on in the story.
…
…
| catch & release |
-•-
"There comes a point in your life when you realize who really matters, who never did, and who always will."
—unknown
-•-
…
…
When I was four, I met this annoying, little boy with spiky hair at the day care center where okaasan would drop me off at everyday when she had to go to work.
That day, when I skipped into the room while okaasan went to check me in, I found that annoying what's-his-face's big round butt sitting on my pretty pink chair — at my table — with my besties-forever-and-ever — his frown so deep it's like he came out his mommy's stomach (I'd say butt) like that.
Like I said, I was four.
So what did I do?
I stomped my small feet as loud as I could over there and said,
"Hey Mister! That's my sweeat!"
What'd he do next? He eyed me, nonchalant, uncaring, and muttered, "Hn."
That was so rude.
So I tried to be nice.
"Move!" Please.
He stopped what he was doing. Looked. Rolled his eyes. Then smirked.
"No."
I was four. I was feisty. And just because I had pink bubblegum hair it didn't mean I'm some wallflower. Damsel in Distress. Or weakling.
(I didn't have my share of Barbie dolls and princess costumes, and I was totally fine with that.)
So what did I do?
I pounced on the guy.
And down goes the weasel.
"That—"
I'm winning…huh, what a chump.
"Was—"
Oh no, he was pretty strong. AHHH, red alert, red alert, I'm getting pulled apart by a maniac!
(Che, but I'd die before he beats up my four-year-old body.)
Now there's more yelling. And it's certainly not me.
"SAKURA!"
"SASUKE!"
And next thing I know?
I'm forced to apologize to that jerk.
Okaasan's holding my shoulders and we're standing in the hallway of the day care. Mr. I-Like-Hurting-Girls' mommy practically has a death grip on him and as I stood there, I can't help but wonder why such a pretty lady with nice silky black hair and soft brown eyes could produce such a monster.
"Sowwy." I say (once again, forced.)
"…" The pretty lady nudges him and he glares at her then looks at me, "…sowwy."
And that's how we met.
And got stuck with one another.
('cause the mothers are a bunch of gossipers who just found their new best "fwiend.")
&.
I was five and three-quarters when I realized that Sasuke wasn't such a pain in my buttocks.
We had finally begun kindergarten and it was spring.
The perfect time to pick pretty Sakura flowers. Obviously I loved them because they were like me: pink, strong, but still as fragile.
I wanted to pick flowers with Ami. When I first met her, she seemed very lonely and very, very moody. I felt sad just watching as she isolated herself like some pariah and was teased about by some very big fat meanies in my class.
So I was admiring the flowers in the field, taking in such a pretty sight when I saw her. She sat under a tree, knees kept together and head lowered.
I felt bad.
I decided to talk to her.
And I did.
"Hi Ami!" I had greeted.
She looked at me the way Sasuke had done that very day I told him to scoot off my pretty pink chair: get away from me.
But I furthered, "So…" I twirled a daffodil with my fingers, "Do you wanna pick flowers with me?"
She stared. Then glared.
"No."
I wouldn't take a simple 'no' for an answer. Ami deserved to have some fun rather than to have herself rain on her own parade.
"You sure?" I asked.
She continued to glare.
"Go. Away." She spat. If I was still four, I would have pounced on her like there was no tomorrow. But after I had the whole "girls don't pummel people to death" conversation with okaasan, I was a new woman…girl…whatever you call a five-year-old. Well, half the time at least.
"Well," I continued on. I knew I was pushing and pushing and pushing but I couldn't stop. It was just in my blood to befriend her. "It'd be fun!"
What she retorted next I did not expect coming.
"I don't wanna pick flowers with a girl who has a forehead the size of a skyscraper!"
No, I didn't punch her. No, I didn't throw the flower in her face.
Instead, I ran away.
It's the weirdest feeling to feel when you're five. I felt sad and mad. I felt like someone stabbed me in my stomach in I was purging out blood and my insides felt empty.
I ran and ran and ran.
I ran so hard and so fast my legs hurt like heck.
I was five. I was allowed to cry as much as I wanted to without a care in the world. So I did.
To bump into Sasuke was something I had yet again didn't see coming.
Literally.
When I fell, I stayed on that bucolic field just staring into the sky. I wondered if otousan could see me with tears splashed across my red face.
Otousan, what's this feeling? Why does it hurt so much?
Sasuke examined me from head to toe.
"Get up," he had commanded. I didn't need this. I didn't need to be bossed around by some jerk I've hated since I was four.
I didn't bother saying anything.
"Get up," he repeated. If I could, I'd roll my eyes at his irrational form of communication, but the tears hurt too much to.
"Get up." Sasuke jerked me up this time, making me sit up on my butt.
Shocked, I just stared as he continued, "What's wrong with you?"
What's wrong with me? Well, I just tried to befriend some very horrible girl and guess what? It backfired on my sorry face.
I glared.
"Why do you care?" I scoffed.
"Because believe it or not, you're sad."
He knew.
How could someone I hated with every fiber of my being know what was wrong with me?
(I can't even answer that.)
I knew I took too long to answer because Sasuke made his way to leave. I don't know what possessed me to speak, but I did.
"Ami told…t-told me — she told me I had a big forehead!"
He stopped and looked back.
New tears were streaming down my cherubic face and I felt embarrassed and sad and stupid.
He continued to walk away.
…
…
The next day Ami apologized to me.
And as I stood there near my desk, dumbstruck that this very mean girl was saying sorry to me, I couldn't help but sneak a peek from across the room.
Sasuke's back was facing me and he was coloring with a pink crayon.
My lips formed into a smile.
From then on, I called him Sasu-chan.
One, because it was funny seeing such a dark type of person like Sasu-chan coloring with a pink crayon.
And two, because he was very sweet.
&.
I was eight.
Sasu-chan and I were on a swing set in one of Hokkaido's parks and we were competing to see who could swing the highest. Okaasan and Mikoto-san were sitting on a nearby bench, multitasking by chatting up a storm and supervising us at the same time.
"I'm gonna win Sasu-chan!"
I pushed, pushed, pushed and up and away I went.
"Hn."
(By then, I knew this meant whatever or yeah right.)
He pushed and pushed and pushed too and we were now neck and neck.
It's a funny feeling to have when you're airborne. Well, you're not really, but just having that opportunity to launch into the air knowing fully that you can't ultimately "reach" the sky but you can always try. It's overwhelming, exhilarating, and you're just plain happy.
"AHHHHH!" I yelp, the swing bringing me up, down, up, down.
I can't help myself. I direct my attention to Sasuke.
He's sailing through the air as if he's going to go the whole three-sixty degrees around the swing set and the wind generously whips against his face, blowing his hair out of his eyes and he's smiling.
He's not his usual barrel of darkness. He's happy. He's genuinely happy.
And that's all that takes from making my heart skip a beat.
I'm stopping and I'm losing and I'm falling. At that time, I hadn't known what this feeling was. It's just there.
When Sasuke finally notices that I'm not swinging anymore and screaming my head off, he abruptly stops next to me and pants.
Then he asks, "What's wrong?"
I was possessed. I hadn't known what I was thinking. I just did.
"I really like you, Sasu-chan," I had told him.
He looked taken back, his face hot and his hair hanging all over the place. But then he beams, something Sasuke Uchiha doesn't do on a daily basis, and he whispers,
"I like you too, Sakura."
I like you too, Sakura.
It didn't sound the same when he had said it.
It's more 'you're my best friend' I like you then 'I really like like you' I like you.
But my mind's running with thoughts. I'm shocked and surprised and happy.
"But," he begins, "stop calling me Sasu-chan." And now he reverts back to his former self.
"Why?" I ask.
" '-chan' is for girls," he replies, "and I'm not a girl."
"Then what do you want me to call you?"
He pauses for a second.
"Call me Sasuke-kun."
Sasuke-kun it is.
"Okay Sasu-cha — Sasuke-kun," I hop off my swing and stand right before him, a new grin spreading across my lips, "YOU'RE IT!"
Run Sakura, RUN!
"HEY!"
&.
We were twelve when I first saw him turn down a girl.
"Go away. I don't like you."
He had said.
And that practically scared me to death because it made me realize that I could always be like that girl he had rejected, and if I was, I may not end up being his best friend anymore.
&.
When I was fifteen, I finally realized that Sasuke-kun may or may not like me the same way I feel about him.
But that's okay.
Because I'm his Sakura and he's my Sasuke and that all that really matters.
&.
I'm seventeen when okaasan and I plan to move to Tokyo during the summer before junior year.
Okaasan met a nice man named Hayate Gekko two years prior and she and Hayate-san have really hit it off.
How do I feel? I feel terrible.
I'm leaving everyone I've known since I was born. I'm leaving Hokkaido. I'm leaving otousan, buried six feet beneath the ground in the Hokkaido cemetery near my house. I'm leaving Sasuke-kun!
I hate this.
Why do we have to move?! Why does okaasan have to marry him?!
Maybe I'm being selfish and maybe I'm not being very "excited" or "cooperative" about this whole situation, but it's just not fair.
So what did I do?
I did what I've always been good at: I ran.
I ran away the day before we were going to move. I needed air, I needed space…I needed — wanted — to stay in Hokkaido with Sasuke-kun.
He was the one.
He was the glue that kept me together through all those times I needed him.
I needed him the very moment after my first boyfriend dumped me.
I needed him to keep me motivated to finish school and to receive a full scholarship to university because okaasan could never afford it.
I needed him to comfort and soothe me through those endless nights I'd spend at his house when okaasan would cry in her room about otousan, screaming, yelling, asking, "Why did you leave me? Why, why, why?" And she'd look at me, study my emerald eyes — find otousan somewhere within me — and when she didn't, she'd scream at me and tell me to get out of her sight.
And most of all, I needed him.
They say that a best friend always knows when the latter's down; that they somehow get this feeling of some sort, telling them, calling them.
But right now, Sasuke-kun wasn't here. He was probably sleeping comfortably in his bed right now.
It was midnight and I was at the park. I sat on my swing — the one I had stuck a small blue sticker on when I was eight after that day at the park so I'd know which swing was mine — and I rocked.
I thought,
and I cursed,
and I cried.
I'm glaring at the sky and that single word — why? — is embedded into my head.
I feel like her, asking why, why, why and weeping away like that's the only thing I'm capable of. I hate it.
It felt like minutes turned into hours. Time was passing me by and all I could do was cry and bawl and become the very thing I despised: a weakling.
"Hey."
My shoulders broadened and I held my breath, the gentle rock of my swing stopping abruptly by the plant of my feet onto the ground.
"Sasuke-kun?" I questioned, daring myself to cock my head his way and see him through my blurred vision.
"Yeah."
And from then on, we didn't speak.
Because he knew,
(even more than I did)
how sad I was.
It was a mutual understanding that he'd sit and he'd listen and he'd comfort me while I broke down as we rocked in unison throughout the moonlit night.
…
…
When I woke we were on a bench, my head rested on his lap with his jacket covering my body as he dozed off into oblivion.
It was dusk.
I watched his sleeping form.
His hair was matted against his face with his head dangled off to the side. When he slept, he looked peaceful and innocent rather than when he was awake, causing havoc with his stone-faced expression.
I smiled bittersweetly.
&.
Junior year had begun.
It was different and unusual. Meeting new people may have been a strong point of mine, but I didn't want to because I wasn't in the mood to. All I wanted was to be back in Hokkaido where everything felt at peace to me.
That night, I sent Sasuke an e-mail.
Hi Sasuke-kun! I'm having fun here in Tokyo and today was the first day of junior year! Isn't that great? The people here are really nice and I can't wait for tomorrow! Well, I really have to get going 'cause okaasan said dinner's ready so…bye!
Love,
Sakura.
The next day he wrote back.
Don't worry so much Sakura,
Sasuke.
He always seemed to know.
&.
It's been a month.
I guess you could say that it's getting better…
(but if I told you that, then I won't exactly be telling the truth, no?)
Sure, I've made acquaintances. Sure, this Tenten girl's nice. Sure I can tell that Kiba's crushing on me.
But in the end of the day, I miss Hokkaido.
So when these two attempt to stage an intervention to Sakura's miserable life and add some spice to it, I'm ultimately dragged into going to one of those Friday night parties which I'm one-hundred percent against.
Pot, drunkies, and make out sessions?
Not my cup of tea.
We're at the party and "coincidentally" I'm left all alone with some dude Tenten's hooking me up with.
"…Soooo," the guy slurs, a bottle of beer in his hand. He seems to be very tipsy after only a gulp of it.
I'm glued against the wall and all I can think is,
Get me out of here!
It's very uncomfortable to have your personal space invaded by cigarette-smelling drunks and girls stumbling over the place half dressed.
I'm disgusted.
I can't take this.
I'm not this.
I hate this.
I should've told Tenten I was leaving, but this place sickens me to the bone. If I didn't leave when I did, then I don't know what might happen.
I'm pushing through the crowd,
("Excuse me! Oh, sorry!")
And I can't wait for that cool air to hit me.
Before I reach the door, I spot this guy with long silver hair that hits his shoulders guarding it.
"Um…excuse me," I mumble, making my way past him when he grabs my wrist and pulls me back.
"Hey—!"
"Hey," he whispers.
His eyes travel up and down and his lips twist into a coy grin.
I can feel his grasp tightening.
&.
He won't leave me alone.
He follows me at school. Passes notes to me. Eyes me in the hall when I'm in homeroom and he's skipping class.
That night at that party, we talked, we laughed, and he listened.
His name's Suigetsu.
I told him I was Sakura.
"Sakura, huh?" he had said.
"Yep."
"Cool."
It's been three weeks now. When we talked, he knew. He had that same aura that Sasuke-kun had emitted, that same instinct of knowing me. I told him I missed Hokkaido. I told him I missed my old life. I told him I missed my best friend. I couldn't help myself; when I spoke, I let it all out. It hadn't occurred to me that I was leaking all of this to some stranger who I first thought of as a rapist.
He'd say,
You're sad. It's okay. Cry if you want to.
And the more I told him my story, the more he spoke to me like that, the more I kept thinking,
He's Sasuke. He's just like Sasuke-kun.
I found myself attracted to him.
He was different. Dark. Strange. Out there.
And it hurt, because I liked him. I really did.
Because it's like replacing Sasuke-kun altogether.
&.
I was moving on.
I felt it — knew it — hated it.
No, I kept telling myself. You belong in Hokkaido. You belong in your old house with your old friends and your real otousan and Sasuke-kun.
I was scared to forget everything I've been fighting for all these months. I was afraid that I didn't belong there anymore. And most of all, I was terrified that maybe I didn't really care anymore.
I wanted — desperately needed — solace.
And that night, I waited.
I waited online for Sasuke-kun's name to show on my contact list so I could chat with him.
Sasuke-kun log on!
And when he finally did, I held my breath. I hadn't talked to him since last week after Suigetsu had taken me out to the movies.
Sakura? he wrote.
There was an elongated pause before I finally replied.
Yeah, Sasuke-kun.
(Sasuke-kun is typing…)
What's wrong?
Sasuke-kun, I found myself typing, I'm scared.
And I told him.
I told him it hurt and I'm scared and that I really missed him. I told him that I was meeting new people and I was afraid that they'd all replace him and my friends in Hokkaido. I told him everything.
When he replied, I scrutinized every text that he had written.
Sakura, the fact that you worry over these things is enough to tell me that you care. It's okay — just go with it, I don't want you over-thinking these things.
I waited.
Well, I g2g.
There was more. Something I needed to know and something he'd always end our online conversations with — something he wouldn't say out loud to his parents or even his brother.
I love you.
It wasn't I love you, but it was close enough.
&.
The only thing I haven't told Sasuke-kun yet was that I was dating Suigetsu.
Maybe it wasn't the need to. I don't know.
But after five months, I felt compelled to tell him.
I spent all this time hanging out with Suigetsu I haven't been in contact with Sasuke-kun for three months now. Suigetsu had taken me places…late night parties, clubs, and everything that included alcohol to make out sessions.
Suddenly my world was turning.
Skipping class, flunking tests, and leaving campus were all on my agenda now.
I was different, and surprisingly I liked it.
When I called Sasuke-kun, it was a Saturday afternoon.
"Hey." He greeted.
"Hey Sasuke-kun!" I replied into the phone.
"You're cheerful."
"Yup!"
"Well what's up?"
"Well," I played with the phone's cord, "I have to tell you something."
"What?"
"Um…" I gulped, "Well, I have a boyfriend Sasuke-kun!"
The line went dead. I waited.
Then,
"Oh."
I should've noticed by then.
"Yeah, his name's Suigetsu and—"
"What's he like?"
"Huh?"
"Does he treat you right?"
Why did he sound…annoyed?
"Oh, yeah! We've been having a lot of fun."
"What do you guys do?"
"Huh? Well…" I was hoping he wouldn't ask that question. I didn't want to answer it, but it was Sasuke-kun. I couldn't exactly lie to him. "Well, we…hang out. We go to the movies…and talk…and we go to parties and—"
"Does he smoke?"
"…Yeah…?" I reluctantly answered.
"Sakura, what else do you guys do?"
I swallowed, "Well, this might sound stupid Sasuke-kun but we kind of skip class together…and we…"
"I don't like him."
"Why?" I asked.
"Sakura, I don't think he's good for you."
At this, my eyes narrowed.
"What do you mean?"
"Sakura, he's not your type."
My teeth clenched, "That's not fair Sasuke-kun! You don't even know him!"
"Sakura, you're not the type to be going to parties. And you hate smoking. Remember what happened to your otousan?"
It felt like a stab. And it hurt. I didn't need to be reminded about him.
Besides, if it wasn't for his stupid smoking he wouldn't of had lung cancer and died.
"You know what Sasuke-kun? Who are you to say who I can and can't date?!"
"…"
"Wanna know another thing? I called you to tell you my good news. I thought you'd be happy for me. Evidently I was wrong."
"Sakura—"
"NO! Stop Sasuke! You're the one who told me to move on. You're the one who told me to be happy and stop worrying about things!"
"Sakura, you know what I meant."
My chest was heaving and I was standing. I couldn't take this. And I blew.
"Well apparently I don't."
"…"
"YOU'RE A HYPOCRITE!"
And the phone went flying.
&.
I was pressed up against the wall.
Suigetsu ran his lips down my neck and onto my chest, leaving a trail of wet kisses as he continued down.
Don't think. Just do.
My fingers raked through his hair, clinging even tighter to him as I groaned.
When his lips finally reached mine, he devoured me entirely. As he bit my bottom lip, I lent entrance to his tongue. He licked, I groaned, and we played.
It was simple.
With his arms wrapped around my waist, I felt at peace.
And when he sunk his teeth into my neck and sucked, I couldn't resist.
"Ahhhh…"
Don't think about Sasuke.
&.
It's been two months.
Sometimes I found myself staring at my cell phone, eyeing his number. Whenever I felt the urge to call, I couldn't — I wouldn't.
Because it seemed too late.
&.
When Suigetsu kisses me, it's not the same.
I used to feel this heat between us. I'd get these butterflies and I'd feel uncomfortable because I was inexperienced, but he took the time to show me the ropes.
I used to love it. Crave it.
Want it more, more, and more—
But I can't do it. I can't.
Because I finally realized that all "this" was just my way of being delusional and forgetting about Sasuke.
And I can never bring myself to.
&.
When he looks at me, he smiles.
But it isn't like that smile he used to shower me with. It's not warm and it's not welcoming. I know he's feigning it because it's strained so much nowadays I can see his muscles tense. He doesn't talk to me anymore like he used to, asking me if I'm okay or soothing me like those times when he was warming up to me.
He's not being Sasuke.
(he's getting bored fast,
so you better do something
before you're left in the dust just like all those girls)
He wants something.
I know he does.
&.
I'm falling
a p a r t
into little b.r.o.k.e.n. pieces of myself
and as I stand there
looking — scrutinizing — glaring before the looking glass,
all I can do is watch as the mirror gradually
shatters into a thousand more shards
that fall silently,
yet deadly,
to the ground.
&.
He's stripping me.
Of my clothing.
Of my dignity.
Of myself.
I want to yell, scream, and kick.
I can't do this, I can't do this.
His kisses are sloppy and he bites and clings and pulls.
Get off of me!
When he throws me on the bed I want to cry. How did it all turn out like this?
Suigetsu pounces and when he lands on me I can't breathe. He trails kisses up and down my form and I feel an electric shock shoot through my body.
He's tearing me apart one clothing at a time and I feel dirty.
I hate, hate, hate this.
"I can't," I mutter, attempting to push him off me, "I can't do this."
He doesn't reply. He's busy.
His teeth unzip my pants and I'm left with my bra and underwear.
Don't touch me!
"I can't."
I say when he flings his shirt to the side.
"I can't."
I pant when he's pulling my bra apart.
"I CAN'T!"
I scream when he's about to violate me.
I did what I felt appropriate.
I shoved my foot up his groin.
When he flies off the bed and shrieks I wrap my arms around myself and I rock.
As he stands and hovers at the end of the bed, eyes formed like daggers my way, I'm scared and shocked and every indescribable word possible all wrapped in one.
I thought he was coming for me. I thought he was going to kill me.
And when he's about to climb onto the bed and—
The car roars and he jumps.
Thank you, thank you, thank you.
He forages for his shirt. But before he exits through my bedroom window, he turns around and gazes at me.
"Bitch."
…
…
But in the end, it's okay.
I can be a bitch and a slut and whatever he wants to call me.
Because I will never be like all those girls who didn't stick up for themselves. I will not take pleasure in the thought of an asshole violating me in my house where he thinks he can just swoop in and throw me on my bed like he's the freakin' master and I'm a stupid puppet about to be torn into shreds.
&.
That night I finally call Sasuke.
When he answers, he scoffs.
"What?"
"Sasuke…" I whimper.
"What do you want Sakura?"
"Sasuke…kun, please…" I'm crying now and I can't help myself, "please just listen."
"Sakura?"
He questions and it's soft and caring and Sasuke.
"Yeah?" I say.
"What's wrong?"
And I tell him. I spill my whole freaking heart out to him. And I cry and wail and I scream I'm sorry a million times straight.
And he's there on the other line, listening and quiet, alert and concerned and just like the Sasuke I've missed and love so much.
He doesn't blow up. He's calm but angry and I know it.
But at the end of it, I'm to some extent okay. My chest has stop heaving up and down uncontrollably and my breathing isn't shallow anymore.
"Sakura," he says, and I have this feeling. And it's making my stomach thrash inside.
"I love you."
And he means it.
It isn't a 'joking' I love you,
or a 'you're my best friend' I love you,
but an 'I love you.'
And it only takes that to make the tears well up in my eyes again and I laugh. I'm going to look like crap in the morning but that's okay.
I've waited long enough to hear it and I've waited long enough to say it,
"I love you too, Sasuke-kun."
…
…
I know it's going to be tough.
But I have Sasuke-kun.
Face it, he's everywhere. Away from me, near me, and a part of me. He'll be there by my side like he's always been, whether I'm sad or mad or happy or just being plain Sakura.
And that's all I've ever needed.
…
…
"sa katapusan"
…
…
a/n: This is the longest oneshot I've ever written. If you made it this far, thank you! And if my format is a bit confusing, or the story itself and the transitions are, don't be afraid to ask! ;p
THANK YOU & REVIEW PLEASE!