Uprooting
You kill a weed by striking its roots.

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In the brief moments of quiet darkness, Sasuke doesn't—can't—keep his imagination from wandering.

His entire life has been an inevitability since that fated night when he was seven, but that doesn't mean that he doesn't wonder. That he doesn't think about all the ways things could've worked out if things were just a little bit different. If only Itachi had ordered his words another way, if only the warm lull of Konoha had been strong enough, if only Orochimaru had never found him—if only Sasuke himself had a little more light in him.

Things could be so, so different.

And on those sleepless nights, he imagines.

"Sasuke-kun!" Sakura bounds up to where he stands on the bridge, watching the sun rise beyond the horizon and cast sparks of light across the creek. "Good morning!" Her voice is too shrill for this hour of the day, and he just barely catches a glimpse of her long pink hair before redirecting his gaze.

"Aa."

The hour they spend together every morning before Naruto and Kakashi arrive is theirs and theirs alone. It's the calmest hour of Sasuke's day, the warm gold of the sun splaying across the pink and purple sky like a long lost friend. Neither of them talk, but sometimes Sakura hums, and he doesn't find it annoying.

"Hey, Sasuke-kun," she says when the sun has risen a few degrees higher in the sky. "Do you think shinobi go to heaven?"

He regards her with quiet eyes just as the wind sweeps past them, blowing up green leaves and making the red of her long tunic fly. "I don't think about what comes after death," he tells her simply. All he has ever wanted is meant to be accomplished during his lifetime—what follows is inconsequential.

"But do you?" she presses, shifting two steps closer. He glances down at her feet to indicate that it didn't go unnoticed, but she's unfazed. That's the thing about Sakura—she pushes on no matter what lies ahead, be it rigorous training, a difficult written test, or Sasuke's continued efforts to distance them.

In that way, they're the same. In their goals, they are very different.

"Heaven, hell, purgatory—none of it matters. Anyone who knows is in no position to tell us, and the people who don't waste their lives away agonizing over it. If death, and by extension the hypothetical afterlife, is inevitable, one should focus all of their efforts in life where things are tangible and attainable."

Silence follows his long statement. Sasuke glances over and sees that she's regarding him with wide green eyes full of wonder for him and him only. Breathe, he tells himself.

"I think we go to heaven," she says whimsically, and returns to her rhythmless humming.

•••

Ever since his Sharingan came to life, everything has been vivid color.

During spars, Naruto is no longer Naruto. He's a blur of orange and gold, the whistling of blue and a lot of screaming. He's a brute strength that Sasuke doesn't have, taps into reserves of energy long after Sasuke's has run dry—so Sasuke has to compensate, has to be faster, has to be smarter. Naruto pushes him hard and fast and Sasuke feels himself growing exponentially when they spar, even if he'd never admit it aloud.

And Sakura—he'd never thought much of Sakura's combat, but she'd gotten alarmingly good after she started training under Tsunade. He has no idea what the new Hokage has her do, but now she can splinter trees, crack earth—and when he loses his footing and she's just close enough, her fingers ghost over his skin, splits it, draws blood. He realizes, perhaps years too late, that she's the dangerous kind of shinobi; the kind you think incapable of the worst, the kind you underestimate. There is less pink of her now but still so much red, and every day her movements become less languid and more sharp—

And when the Sasuke-kun rolls from her tongue, there's still the same adoration, but maybe less of the naïveté.

He learns that he needs to stop thinking so little of her, lest he look like a fool one day.

His heart is pounding and the blood is rushing in his ears, but he forces his breath to remain quiet as he crouched in a tree. There's been silence for three agonizing minutes and still no one has made a move. Sasuke decides to be the first.

Naruto has always been the worst at masking his presence. He's only fifty meters to Sasuke's left, in a bush, probably strategizing the next way he can use his shadow clones. Sasuke flash steps and is behind him in a blink, the tip of his kunai at his back. "Think further ahead next time."

The shadow clone dissipates and Sasuke curses.

When he turns around, tidal waves are flooding through the trees in waves of blue and white. He easily evades them by hopping into the canopy, and surveys the area.

Sakura doesn't have the chakra capacity for a jutsu like this, and Naruto doesn't have the skill. Therefore—

"Kai."

When he opens his eyes again, he sees his two teammates on either side of him, kunai in hand.

"So much for every person for themselves."

"We felt like seeing you lose today." Sakura smiles sheepishly, but the blush of victory is on her cheeks. She and Naruto exchange a high five. Sasuke deactivates his Sharingan and the world is back to normal, Naruto with his goofy grin and Sakura with her modest head tilt. But even with his regular vision, their eyes are still so bright compared to his own, so blue and green that he could drown in them—

•••

"Yes."

"Huh?"

The shock on Sakura's face tells him that she didn't expect he'd say yes. Her cheeks turn beet red in the matter of seconds and she's looking everywhere except for his eyes and dammit, Sasuke has always been prideful and he takes a certain pleasure for making her this way.

"You don't want to?"

"No, it's not that! It's just—I guess I didn't—I didn't think you…felt that way…"

"Sakura." He waits until she lifts her head and looks him in the eye. "Do you remember that mission we took to the Wind Country? Delivering that scroll Naruto kept insisting we peek inside?"

"Yeah. Why?"

It was the mission that Naruto forgot to pack the sleeping bags and they had slept uncovered under the stars for an entire week. For seven consecutive nights, Sasuke watched Sakura stare with quiet wonder at the stars. Her usual chatter disappeared as the moon rose in the sky and she began to ask the sort of existential questions she usually left for their quiet mornings together.

"How far do you think the universe stretches?"

"Do you believe in reincarnation?"

"We're all just stardust in the end, aren't we?"

Ever since he had met her, he'd thought, Maybe. But on that mission over a year ago, watching her eyelashes flutter as she drifted off to sleep every night for a week, it occurred to Sasuke, It can't be anyone else.

"Since then," he says.

Her already deep blush somehow deepens even more, but her smile is radiant and undeniable. And deep inside of Sasuke, his heart glows.

•••

His teammates will be the first to say that he's a person of little words. Uchiha Sasuke doesn't talk, Uchiha Sasuke has a stick up his ass, Uchiha Sasuke couldn't be bothered. But the truth is—

How can he speak when there is so much to watch? So much to ponder?

When Naruto is a study in perseverance, strength, joy—when the setting sun makes his skin glow, when his grating voice cuts through Sasuke's need for propriety and order, he cannot speak. He cannot follow up Naruto's words, cannot do justice the drive he instills. They say that Uchiha Sasuke thinks Naruto is annoying and there's certainly some truth to that, but more than anything, he thinks Naruto is inspiring.

And when Sakura brushes her hair behind her ear, when she rearranges the cutlery on the table to suit herself just right, when she sees through his intentions during spars just fast enough for his hits to miss—how does he speak in those moments, when he's so busy basking in the grace of all that she does? What words would be suitable, which ones would be appropriate to describe just how wondrous she is without splitting his soul open for all to see?

There just aren't any. And so he keeps quiet, and they say what they will of him. But he knows his truth, so in his silence he is resolute.

•••

"Do the idiot first."

"Hey, who are you calling the idiot? You're the one who charged in before you were supposed to!"

"You're the one who alerted them—I was only rectifying your mistake."

"You're both idiots and I should leave you here to die," Sakura huffs. "I can't believe you two! Even with Naruto tripping out of a tree and Sasuke beheading a man just to show off, we could've gotten out of that way cleaner. But you guys are always so concerned with one-upping each other—geez, Naruto, you ruptured your spleen—and I'm always the one who has to patch you guys up." She rolls Naruto onto his stomach with little regard and ignores him when he yelps. "We medics are rare, you know, there isn't one on every team and one day I might be assigned elsewhere, and what are you going to do then? I'm not your mother!"

"Then stop lecturing us like you are," Naruto whines. Sasuke already knows before it happens that he'll earn a smack on the head for that one. "Ow!"

Twenty minutes later, when Naruto is off hunting some rabbits, Sasuke basks in the warm green of Sakura's hands. The sting of his bruised ribs has now dulled down to a quiet ache, and he releases an imperceptible sigh of relief through his nose. Sakura gives him none of the bluster she unleashed on Naruto—only hums quietly as she works. She has a small smile on her lips, as if she finds peace in having her hands on his body.

(He certainly finds peace in it.)

Another minute of silence, and he finally says it. "Thank you." And then: "Sorry."

Her smile is replaced with a frown. "I can't always be here, you know."

"Aa."

"If you don't make a habit out of caution, you'll slip up one day and I might not be around to heal you."

"Aa."

"It could end up getting you killed."

"Aa."

Her eyes are wet and her bottom lip is trembling. Sasuke reaches up to touch her cheek, and she sucks in a gulp of air. For how much she talks about mortality and the minute significance of their existence, she is easily caught up in the fragility of life.

"Which stars had to explode for Haruno Sakura and Uchiha Sasuke to be born when they were, and which winds had to blow for them to find each other? How many lives have they lived together? How many times have they fallen in love?"

Somehow, Sasuke understands.

"You'll die first, okay?"

Sakura blinks. "Excuse me?"

This is why he doesn't talk. "So you don't have to live without me. I'll only go after you do."

She laughs wetly. "You can't control when you'll die."

"I know. But I'll get stronger—lower the chance of death, at least." The last of the ache in his chest melts away, and Sakura lowers her hands to rest on his body. Goosebumps, as she traces idle patterns on his skin. She's far away now, thinking about something on the distant edges of the galaxy. Breathe, he reminds himself.

And suspended between seconds, he breathes.

•••

In the dark of night,

when it's just him and her and no one else,

where she can't possibly see the sheer want in his eyes,

and he can just feel her skin, smell her hair, make her gasp and squirm and hold her breath and moan his name, over and over and over and over—

•••

"Can't convince you to be part of my security personnel, can I?"

"Do I look like I want to spend that much time with you?"

"I'm just saying, it'd make my days a bit more enjoyable."

Sasuke scoffs. "I'm not here for your entertainment, dobe." He looks upon the sloping white hat on Naruto's head and remembers blithering idiot he met all those years ago, screaming about being Hokage and painting obscenities on the cliff face. He remembers looking at him and thinking, He'll never succeed.

Naruto has a knack for proving people wrong.

"Hey, I expect you to call me Hokage-sama from now on!"

"What are you going to do, dobe? Throw me, the head of the police force, in jail?"

"You're replaceable, ya hear? There are a bunch of shinobi just as qualified as you, but there's only one of me!" But the words have no edge to them, only jest and trust and I could have never done this without you being there and pushing me forward. And Sasuke knows this, so there are no sneers of retaliation, just quiet, hidden love.

"Let's go to Ichiraku tonight," he says. "My treat."

He has to look away so as to avoid seeing the vulnerable, blinding joy in Naruto's eyes.

•••

Weddings are pointless, he thinks, just as pointless as thinking about what comes after death. Weddings are a superficial thing, empty ceremonies and flimsy papers that signify—what, exactly? Eternal love? Weddings don't guarantee that. Marriage is not some blanket you lay over your life that ensures your happy ending. Love is constant work, love is choosing your person over and over again, even when she's annoyingly smart and even when she won't leave you alone and especially when she's just worried about your well-being and are you even listening, Sasuke-kun?

Sasuke believes that weddings are pointless but by God does Sakura want one, so it's an easy decision for him.

(And it's just as noisy and impractical and expensive as he thought it would be, but she's radiating and unbearably beautiful and so, so happy—)

Breathe, he tells himself.

He would like to think that no matter what happened in their lives, they would always end up here. They would always find themselves pledging to each other the rest of their days, always find themselves with their hands clasped in front of all their loved ones, always find themselves—always finding themselves.

Always.

•••

And even when their bodies are a little slower, minds just slightly duller, they're still together. Him, her, Naruto—the three of them, always always always—

"Sasuke."

He opens his eyes and directs his gaze towards the slit of light where his door is ajar. Kabuto, whose head is peeking through the crack, sighs. "No sleep again? You know that's not good for you." Sasuke grunts, the most acknowledgement he's willing to give at this hour of the morning. "Orochimaru-sama is waiting for you."

From where he's sitting on his bed, he pushes himself to his feet. His eyes are heavy, but his heart is heavier.

"Were you thinking about them again?" Kabuto asks as they walk down the hall, the insufferably perceptive man that he is. "It does you no good to hold onto your past. They'll only bring you down. Best to nip that in the bud, if you ask me."

"No."

"...No?"

The hall is singular and long, lit with just enough torches to see the next step. Sasuke discards the blue and gold of Naruto, the emerald and pink of Sakura—promises himself that less nights will be wasted on them. He needs to face forward. Needs to follow his path. Needs to remember what it is he's set out to do.

"You don't nip these things in the bud. You kill a weed by striking its roots."

And his roots, he will strike.

Author's Notes: I was in Japan, and as it goes whenever I vacation in Asia, the emotional weeb in me comes out and I consume Naruto fanfiction like a woman starved. I wrote this on my phone over the course of a few days, and all things considered, I'm pretty happy with it. This was a study in being kinder to Sasuke, and maybe it will show in my future fics!