The Unlikeliest Place - Naruto
Sasuke/Sakura. Written for dormant_muses's 2008 secret exchange. Takes place sometime after chapter 429, no specific spoiler. Naruto © Kishimoto Masashi, et al.
When Sakura entered Sasuke's room and saw the empty bed, a flush of annoyance that was becoming familiar nowadays made her close the door a little harder than necessary. She went to find the nurse on duty, who told her that Sasuke had left his room a while back. He said he wanted some fresh air and would look for it on the rooftop. Perhaps sensing Sakura's mood, the nurse added hesitantly that Sakura herself had declared Sasuke fit enough to roam around. Sakura thanked the nurse and hurried away, the annoyance returning.
Sasuke was sitting at one corner of the rooftop, one knee drawn up, the other leg sticking out heedlessly. On seeing Sakura, he climbed carefully to his feet, and she saw smears of dirt on the back of his hospital trousers. She suspected no one had bothered to sweep the rooftop for at least two weeks - little wonder, since rebuilding the village and tending to the wounded had taken up everyone's time and energy. She supposed they were lucky that Tsunade, Katsuyu, and all the medic nin had worked as efficiently as they had, although the incident was still a scar that Konoha would not forget for generations.
And if she had the time to go after deliberately recalcitrant patients, then she might be able to spare half an hour to do the sweeping herself. Her mouth twitched into a small, sour smile, which quickly vanished.
"How are you feeling today?" she asked Sasuke crisply.
"I'm okay." He moved toward the door leading downstairs, and Sakura stood directly in front of him. He narrowed his eyes at her. "Whatever it is you have to say, can't it wait until I get back to my room?"
Instead of replying, she folded her arms. "That day, before you left to join Orochimaru," she said, "you and Naruto had a duel here. I'm sure you still remember."
She thought he would give an exasperated sigh, but he only kept staring at her. "I do. And why are you bringing it up now? Are you planning to challenge me too?"
The idea was not without its allure, and she stored it away for future contemplation. "No, it's because sometimes I wonder if you'd take me more seriously if I'm able to at least defeat five moves from you." She shrugged. "You know - since you have always wanted to be stronger, and therefore you'll only take notice of people who are strong."
The tenseness seeped out of his posture as he listened to her. "And?"
She was surprised. "What do you mean, and?"
"That's not all you were going to say, is it? You had all those years to think about me, how I'd respond to situations, what I might think of everyone, including you. You must have plenty of things you want to say to my face."
Had he always been this observant when it came to her? "If you knew that much, you'd also know how glad I am that you're back."
He laughed softly. "So is the Hokage, I'll bet. The rebellious missing nin is back, safely tucked away in the hospital, until he's healthy enough to stand trial. But you haven't answered my question."
"Oh, that." She had been trying to forget that his trial would be held in two days' time, a schedule based on her own reports about his condition. "I - just think the trial's been on your mind a lot lately, and..." He would not care to hear about her fears or anybody else's, his mind being already heavily occupied as it was. Neither did he need half-hearted reassurances that the verdict might tend to be lenient. "And we're doing all we can to talk the Hokage out of considering capital punishment," she finished, somewhat feebly.
This time he did sigh, and started to walk around her. When she put her hand on his elbow, he seemed not to feel it, or if he did, he did not care. "So that's the worst sentence the Hokage can give me?"
"Should you ask?"
He turned his head to stare at her. "Because as long we're still alive, there's always a way out," he quoted mockingly. "Right?"
She tightened her fingers exaggeratedly on his elbow. "And if there isn't one," she said with quiet severity, ignoring his long-suffering look, "perhaps others can find it for you anyway." She thought for a moment, then her grip relaxed, and her other hand clasped his wrist. "Who knows," she went on in a gentler voice, "the trial might be the best place for you to learn that."