A/N: Stream of consciousness writing after reading Iulia's Of Prayers and Pastries. I wrote this before I read the end, mostly so I didn't forget this. It's just, I don't think with Sasuke as emotionally stunted as he is, I don't think he'd hug someone so easily. But that's just my opinion and hopefully this is something still worth reading. R&R please, because they let me improve.

Posted to cheer me up about my college rejections. Dedicated to all the other people who got rejected from the college of their choice, because we're so awesome and those schools are stupid for not letting us in to share the win.

Disclaimer: Do not own Naruto.

In Flow of Time
by Pleasantries and the Aftermath

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Their first embrace is awkward.

It has been seven years since Sasuke's defection. Having been foiled and recaptured before his attack on Konoha by Naruto, he is brought back to the village. He spits curses, befouling the ground and air with his petulant delirious screams until he is slipped into isolation at the very bottom bowels of Konoha. There, he screams and shouts until his words fall unto deaf ears. Even he doesn't listen to them anymore. His only visitors are Naruto, his former teacher, his replacement, and her.

Haruno Sakura is not his guard, but she sees him everyday. When he is still raw and angry at the injustice of his family, she simply stands at the foot of the door and takes the brunt of his anger, his screams, his hatred. She does not say a word, only flinches at the stings to her pride or to the pride of the village. She whimpers at the word "whore" that flies from his lips like an enemy's arrow, but other than that, she is silent because at the very least, he's here right?

And when the screams fade; when he's tired of screaming, tired of anger, tired of fighting ghosts and shadows that he can't touch and only he sees, she is still there, standing with her hands clasped neatly before her with a look of patience bearing all the time in the world. The sense of defeat that courses through him makes him unable to lift his head, but when he does, the first thing he sees is her pained, tearful, smiling face as she greets him with a familiar affection. "Hi, Sasuke-kun."

After that, a relationship is born. Many are as he begins to heal in the confines of a cell as he waits for sentencing. The trials drain him, mentally exhausting him, but the sights of former friends and her persistent patience is a salve, a respite in a strange new world. It is his turn to listen. Though she had struggled at first, testing boundaries and his patience, she now speaks to him with relative ease. She is animated and soft-spoken as she relates the events of the day, her patients, her problems, Naruto's idiocy, while he offers the occasional "Ah." She fumbles her words at times, and while he would've been annoyed before, he is aware that she is painfully aware of everything between them both said and unspoken. So he's patient with her, and listens to her stories because even if he cannot catch all the words, her voice silences the demons in his head.

At year two, he is released into the above-ground. Shackled with a tracer and chains, he is removed and placed under house-arrest. He will not leave for six months, but even so, he still has visitors, she being one of them. At a party celebrating his return, of only Team 7 old and new, she is there with a basket of tomatoes. His first meal out consists of his favorite foods, and even he cannot stop the smile on his face.

From there on, there are more smiles, mostly—if not almost all—in relation to her. Through her constant visits, he gains the courage to ask her out. It's not an ardent declaration and had she been anyone else, she would've never noticed, but she accepts and the relief that washes over him breaks like a wave: cool, refreshing, and feeling like absolution.

Though he is no longer under house-arrest, he is still only able to go to certain areas. Still, they make the best of it and manage to do quite well in the little home he's set up for himself in his family compound. Often more than not, their dates take place in his home, and it is on one of these nights that it occurs.

It is just after dinner. Sakura is clearing the last of the dishes from the table when her elbow jars the bowl of fruit he keeps on the dining room table. One of the fruits rolls onto the floor and Sakura bends down to pick it up and Sasuke has the inexplicable urge to hold her.

He crosses the room, determined to hold her—embrace her while she remains unsuspecting. Every fiber in his being pushes, shoves, begs to be thrown into contact with her when all of a sudden…he stops. By this time, Sasuke is only centimeters from her and Sakura can feel his presence behind her as she stands up with an apple in her hand. Their warmth mingles between them and expectation and anticipation fill the air. She stands apprehensive and waiting, knowing what he wants to do, but unable to decide what she wants to do about it.

When he doesn't move, she turns in the cage provided by his arms while his arms hang motionlessly in the air. Her eyes stare up at his; clear, waiting, hopeful, with a fear of the unknown lurking at the deepest point of her gaze. All the while, Sasuke stands unsure. Touch was never a luxury afforded to him after the death of his family or while he was in Sound; and all the while, the things left unsaid hang around them like mirrors and daggers aimed at their hearts.

Why did you leave?

I didn't want to go.

Was I not enough?

No. You were more than I ever deserved.

Do you know that you hurt me?

Yes.

Are you sorry?

More than you ever know.

If you could do everything over again, would you make the same choices?

In a heartbeat.

Pain, unrelenting and roiling in his chest, constricts his throat. The hands begging for touch begin to itch and he isn't sure whether or not he will strangle her again. When he blinks, he sees in his mind the bruises around her neck that he knew he left before, but never saw. Those scars, the sheer delirious joy he got from seeing her twisted in pain frightens him and he isn't sure if he will do it again. He is haunted, alone and afraid, and for the briefest of seconds, it shows on his face as more than a mask of indecision.

Sakura makes the choice for him with a small step that closes the gap. A mere centimeter of air is all that separates them, and her warmth floats over him stronger than ever. Her head hovers just below his chin and with each inhale, he takes in her scent. It smells of apple shampoo, sanitizer, blood, soil, and forest dew. It wreathes his senses and he closes his eyes with a contented sigh; it smells like home.

His arms find movement, however shy and unsure it is as he begins to close his arms around her. It is jerky with many pauses, second-guesses, and the ghosts of countless nightmares he dare not remember. As he moves closer, his body ghosts over many parts of her skin, sending tiny shocks of electricity that make his body hum. He knows that this simple hug is taking much longer that it should, that the pieces of them should come together more smoothly than this. But when his arms are finally wrapped around her body, his nose buried in her hair as her hands rest over his shoulder blades, he tells himself he will have many more days to practice.

For now, he will hold her and think of home.