To You, To Me

Month Twenty One – Week Four

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Sakura sits on the stairs, staring blankly at the letters in hands. Some are old, decayed and yellowing and some are crisp, white, their stark black commandments drowning out all else. A ripple of pain stirs at her heart as she sighs, the letters falling, tumbling down the stairs like leaves falling from trees. She takes a breath, blinks slowly before following their trail with her eyes. When she rises to follow them, she's caught by a firm hand that pulls her gently back down.

"I'm sorry," Naruto says.

His solemnity and seriousness sends pangs of pain shooting through her. She tries to smile, to not break apart under the weight of her burdens. Unconsciously, her eyes flicker towards the front room but he isn't there anymore. With her aid, he retreated to his room, into the darkness and the silence and sometimes the breaking of things less fragile than he.

"Don't be," she tells him. "You guys have been helping me pay the bills for so long. I'm surprised I didn't get a final warning before now."

"But-"

"I'm all right, Naruto," she breathes in, strength slowly seeping back into her. "I've survived worse than this. And so has Sasuke."

"You can move in with me," he offered. "Both of you. I don't mind. There's room."

She leans against him, patting his arm affectionately. "Thanks, Naruto, but I'm not sure if that's a good idea right now. I'll try to find some more money, buy some time. I'll figure this out. Trust me."

Before he can answer, she stands, making her way into the kitchen to search through their meagre supplies. She has always known that their dependence on others could last only so long. She has been prepared for a while, but still it hurts. Her eyes sting, vision blurring rapidly but she blinks the tears away and takes the tin of tomato soup for Sasuke and the last night's leftovers for herself.

She doesn't notice Naruto looking in, doesn't notice the way his brow furrows and his heart breaks and he feels like that helpless, hated child again. Nor does she notice when he turns, eyes hardening and darts up the stairs, to that locked room, shrouded in perpetual gloom and darkness because he loves them both but sometimes choice is necessary. Determined thus, he breaks the lock and enters.

Sasuke glares at him, the growl of annoyance having begun when he heard the approach. But it dies in his throat when he's pulled up from the edge of the bed by his t-shirt. The fire in Naruto's eyes sparks something in him, but the memory vanishes before his frantic hands can grasp it. This is not the Naruto he has made memories of.

"You're an asshole, you know that," Naruto tries to glare, falling only slightly short. "The world hates you. So what? We're not the world. And you're not the only one who's been hated by it. Sakura, she's tried so hard, but I really don't need to tell you that. When has she ever hated you? Even when you stomped on her feet, when you refused her food, when you snapped at her, when you hurt her – when has she ever hated you?"

There's a retort rising in his throat like bile. The fire has returned to his coal eyes, but he can't make them come. They words are sticking. He feels like he's choking. Like he can't breathe for all the effort it's taking to spew them out.

Naruto sees this, and continues. He pushes, prodding a little more. He's aware of limits, but only just paying them heed.

"You don't remember, not yet. Maybe you never will. But I do!" he exclaims, voice steadily rising. "Since we were genin, since the academy– even when you ran off and left us behind! Even when you were gone… And who went and got you? Who fed you? Who gave you medicine? Whose house was vandalised again and again? You can hate them. You can hate the world. But don't hate her."

He let go and Sasuke collapsed onto the bed. Memories flickered through his head; too fast to be seen; too hazy to be distinguished. Tiny slivers of recognition slipped through, echoes of a stranger's distant past that he wants to hold, to take between his hands and keep close.

He opens his mouth to speak but by then Naruto is gone.

So he sits in silence, staring into the darkness, wondering where this life he's lead has taken him. Wondering if he can come back. He feels a gaping maw within him, hollow, not entirely dissimilar to the numbness he so welcomed before for reasons he no longer recalls. But this is not the numbness. Its presence isn't welcomed, isn't wanted and the urge to claw it out of him is sudden and almost sways him with its ferocity.

"What… happened here?"

He looks up, bewilderment colouring his expression. She's standing, a tray in her hands, glancing down at shattered lock on the open door. Her distraction is enough. His senses return, an immediate curling tendril winds around his heart, but he chokes on his anger this time and the hurt that's twisted him claws at his insides.

Sakura looks at him then. "Are you okay?"

He nods. He can't do anything else. She's surprised that he hasn't snapped. It's evident in her wide eyes, the way she holds the tray quite close to her lest he knock it out of her hands like he did once before in days that have all melded from one darkness into another.

Then his eyes drift to the tray in her hands. Seeing this, she enters. Hunger is a powerful motivator, she knows, though his isn't entirely the sort that she thinks it is. She puts it down next to him on the bed. She smiles in what she hopes is taken as reassurance. She doesn't know what to say. She hasn't for a long time.

When she leaves him there, questions unasked, oblivious to this sudden shift, she leaves contented. It's a moment to be thankful for in a thankless line of work. She'll take what she can of it.

Author's Note: I apologise for the hiatus. We have only a few chapters remaining and I hope to release them all soon. As you can all probably see, my writing style has changed somewhat since last I wrote. I hope it isn't too much of a departure from what was. Thank you for reading.