Profane: Sasuke/Sakura
Fandom: Naruto
Characters: Sasuke & Sakura
Genre: Angst/Romance
“Fuck.”
The profanity - crisp and sharp - shatters the calm silence of the verdant fields as you try your best - and fail - to stem the bleeding on your lacerated arm. It stings and it burns but that wasn’t what made you curse. No, you cursed because you were careless enough to have a training accident. And you think - no, you believe - that imprudent errors such as the one you committed just a few moments ago are beneath you. You’re sorely disappointed at yourself and you’re tempted to lash out at something - someone. But as it is, there’s nobody to lash out at because you’re alone. And it strikes you, how painfully true that statement is - that you’re alone. It wouldn’t do you good if you lash out at yourself, would it? Because it would only make matters worse. It’s tempting but you resist the urge to do so. You did, after all, outgrow that little habit years ago.
“Fuck.”
Out comes that profanity from your mouth once again as pain shoots up to your spine the moment you try to move your leg. Training would have to stop as you’ll have to go to the hospital and have your bone put back in its proper place. By the looks of things, your femur got dislocated. Yes, training would have stop and your revenge would have to be delayed for a few more hours. And the thought frustrates you enough to make you curse again.
“Fuck.”
It’s just frustrating because you’re not even tired (you are, horribly so, says a part of your mind that you constantly ignore) and yet you have to stop your training just because you were careless. Even so, agonizing over your condition won’t make it any better and since you’re a man of action, you’ll get going - because what else could you do? And again that small - so very small - voice in your head tells you again that you could rest a bit. But again, as per habit, you ignore it. And you stand up, ignore the pain, and go on your way.
But you stumble.
“Fuck.”
You suddenly notice that you’ve gotten into the habit of cursing. And you try not to think about how your mom would have never allowed you to utter even a single profanity. It is, after all, unbecoming. Because you are, after all, an Uchiha. And Uchiha’s are refined and dignified and would never curse. Some Uchiha you are - profane, uncouth, coarse. You muse that Itachi’s probably more of an Uchiha than you are. The guy was always calm, always polite, and always perfect… sick and twisted and insane… but perfect. And that little voice in your head tells you that Itachi is more of an Uchiha than you are in that respect. And if you want to live up to your name then you should be like your brother. But you shudder - you wither and you grow pallid - at the thought of becoming like your brother. And again that little voice in your head pipes up, ‘isn’t that what you’re trying to do?’. Again you ignore it and brace yourself for the pain as you once again prepare to stand up and go on your way.
This time, you’re fairly successful. You’re limping - but you’re getting there.
It’s almost three o’clock in the afternoon when you finally get to the hospital. Your pace was agonizingly slow and the sun is beating down on you as sweat trickles down your brow. The wound in your arm looks suspiciously like it’s infected and your knee is swollen. You almost say that vulgar word once again but you stop yourself. And your gut twists and churns as you realize that you stopped yourself - unconsciously. You try to tell yourself that you only refrained from cursing because your mom wouldn’t have liked it. But you know that you’re deluding yourself. Emulating your big brother has always been a habit you were never apt to grow out of.
“Bye Shizune-san, see you tomorrow.”
That voice stirs you from your musings. It’s familiar and it’s annoying and it’s - though you would never admit it - comforting.
“Sasuke-kun! What happened to you?”
You grunt (Uchiha’s don’t grunt, that voice in your head says) and allow her to drag you into the hospital. She slings your arm over her shoulder and helps you bear your weight but being who you are, you refuse her help even though you obviously need it. But she’s persistent and she tries again. She never gives up on you - you muse - and this is why you thanked her all those years ago. But she doesn’t know - she doesn’t need to. Again, you’re deluding yourself because you know she deserves to know… but you think no more of it as you allow her to lead you through the sterile hallways of the hospital. You are taken into a room with whitewashed walls and a bed in the corner. The acrid stench of isopropyl alcohol permeates the air and though you hate it, you realize that you’re used to it. She sits you down on the bed and you watch her as she arranges her equipment on the side table. However, you tear your gaze off of her as the door suddenly opens and in comes the Goidame herself.
“Sakura, I thought your shift was over. Shouldn’t you be at home resting?”
“Uhm, yeah, it is but I thought I decided this morning that I’d do some overtime.”
Liar. Your teammate is a liar. You know that she was on her way home before she saw you. The reason why she lied, though, eludes you. And if the quirked eyebrows are any indication, then her mentor probably sees through her lie too. And her eyes land on you and you suspect that she has come to a conclusion. But the older woman apparently decides to leave it at that.
“Very well. But do try to get some rest okay, you’ve been working nonstop for two shifts already.”
“Hai, Tsunade-sama.”
Two shifts… again, you’re amazed at how far she would go just for you. You want to say ‘thank you’ but the words hold so much meaning for the both of you that you opt for a grunt instead… just because it’s less complicated.
“Hn. You don’t have to do this you know.”
“Right. Now, show me your arm.”
The treatment goes on smoothly and before you know it, it’s over. Your leg is fine and your arm’s all patched up. And you can’t help but wish that you had more injuries, because her cool charka felt so good. But then you stop yourself… because you really should be glad that she’s done with the treatment. After all, now you can go back to training and revenge.
“All done.”
You look up to see that she’s looking at you as if she’s going to say something but you decide that whatever it is, you don’t want to hear it. After all, it’s probably another lecture about trying to not be too reckless. And so, you stand up and move past her without giving her so much as a glance, hoping that she’d take the hint.
But she was always persistent…
“Sasuke-kun.”
You briefly consider pretending that you didn’t hear her. You know that this is probably best… after all, useless conversations would just delay you thus delaying your revenge. But your feet don’t seem to want to cooperate with your brain as they stop before you could even get out the door. You keep your back turned as you hear footsteps that indicate that she’s coming over to where you’re standing. You prepare yourself for a tirade about being more careful but you’re surprised when one does not start.
It’s all you can do to keep from jumping as you suddenly feel her forehead rest on the space between your two scapulas. Her small hands are grasping the back of your shirt and judging by the almost inaudible sniffing, she’s crying again. You’re confused - perplexed - at this display of affection. Never once has she acted like this after you came back - no, not after you came back - after you were brought back forcefully by Naruto. Sure, she was friendly and she always conversed with you but she was always purposely avoiding any skin-to-skin contact. But this - this was so unexpected, so irregular, so…
“Take care of yourself… please.”
And her words, said so quietly and so pleadingly, moved you more than any of her lectures ever could. You know that this one is different. And your legs turn into jelly and your heartbeat quickens… feelings that are so familiar… you’ve felt them before… that night when she confessed her love for you… and you hope that she doesn’t notice… because now would be the worst time to give her any indication - any semblance of hope - that you cared. No, not now… she doesn’t need to know how much you cared now. Maybe later… if… if… just… not now. And so, you keep silent for fear of saying something uncharacteristic… something incriminating… something telling… something binding…
The both of you stay like that for a while. With her forehead pressed on your back and her hands clinging desperately to your shirt and for a while, the only sound that could be heard is her quiet sobbing.
“I still love you… with all my heart.”
You grit your teeth and clench your fists as you keep yourself from turning around to face her. You want nothing more than to reciprocate her feelings but you know - oh, you know so damn well that now is not the time. And so, before you make another mistake, you decide to go.
But not before you leave her with something… something to hold on to... something that doesn't satisfy... but is enough... You shouldn’t… but you still do… because you’ve always been selfish… you were selfish when you were thirteen and you’re still selfish now… and you know that what you will say is enough to keep her waiting for you… and you want her to wait for you… no… you need her to wait for you… even though you know that you don’t deserve her… and that it would be wrong… so extremely wrong… to make her wait for you…
“Sakura. Thank You.”
And with that you wrench yourself free from her grip and walk away…
As you stuff your bag with food and weapons, you think about your brother who has once again deprived you of a chance at happiness. And you curse…
“Fuck.”
Once again, you’re reminded about how you shouldn’t curse because you’re an Uchiha… but this time, you’re angry and you’re bitter and you hate - so damn bitter - you hate how you have to throw everything else away just so you could avenge a clan that’s dead-dead-dead.
But you have no choice and you’re too deep into this avenger-thing that it’s unthinkable for you to stop now. Not when your revenge is just a week away. You’re leaving the village tomorrow… somehow, you think, Sakura knows… that she told you to take care of yourself was an indication that she acknowledges that she can’t stop you. You muse that she has great intuition when it comes to you… or maybe she just knows you too well…
And once again, she has given you her heart. And you only have to reach out and grab hold of it to gain so much… so much…
That voice in your head leers at you and asks you, ‘And what will you gain with revenge?’
Nothing.
But you never listen to that little voice and so you’ll push through with your revenge even though you’ll most probably end up dead when you haven’t even lived yet. Your only comfort, you think as you strap your Kusanagi to your side, is that if you come back alive, you’ll find her waiting… waiting for you… and finally, you can have a chance at happiness…
But then again, you’ll probably end up dead… and you’ll only cause her to waste more than half of her life waiting for you… which makes you a jerk… an asshole… a bastard…
You’re pretty sure that your -dead- clan would be disgraced at the next words you will utter… but what the hell… you’re already giving up so much for them that if they so much as voice their displeasure, you’d take a leaf out of Itachi’s book and massacre them a second time around. Good thing the dead can’t talk, then.
“Fuck.”
Characters: Sasuke & Sakura
Genre: Angst/Romance
“Fuck.”
The profanity - crisp and sharp - shatters the calm silence of the verdant fields as you try your best - and fail - to stem the bleeding on your lacerated arm. It stings and it burns but that wasn’t what made you curse. No, you cursed because you were careless enough to have a training accident. And you think - no, you believe - that imprudent errors such as the one you committed just a few moments ago are beneath you. You’re sorely disappointed at yourself and you’re tempted to lash out at something - someone. But as it is, there’s nobody to lash out at because you’re alone. And it strikes you, how painfully true that statement is - that you’re alone. It wouldn’t do you good if you lash out at yourself, would it? Because it would only make matters worse. It’s tempting but you resist the urge to do so. You did, after all, outgrow that little habit years ago.
“Fuck.”
Out comes that profanity from your mouth once again as pain shoots up to your spine the moment you try to move your leg. Training would have to stop as you’ll have to go to the hospital and have your bone put back in its proper place. By the looks of things, your femur got dislocated. Yes, training would have stop and your revenge would have to be delayed for a few more hours. And the thought frustrates you enough to make you curse again.
“Fuck.”
It’s just frustrating because you’re not even tired (you are, horribly so, says a part of your mind that you constantly ignore) and yet you have to stop your training just because you were careless. Even so, agonizing over your condition won’t make it any better and since you’re a man of action, you’ll get going - because what else could you do? And again that small - so very small - voice in your head tells you again that you could rest a bit. But again, as per habit, you ignore it. And you stand up, ignore the pain, and go on your way.
But you stumble.
“Fuck.”
You suddenly notice that you’ve gotten into the habit of cursing. And you try not to think about how your mom would have never allowed you to utter even a single profanity. It is, after all, unbecoming. Because you are, after all, an Uchiha. And Uchiha’s are refined and dignified and would never curse. Some Uchiha you are - profane, uncouth, coarse. You muse that Itachi’s probably more of an Uchiha than you are. The guy was always calm, always polite, and always perfect… sick and twisted and insane… but perfect. And that little voice in your head tells you that Itachi is more of an Uchiha than you are in that respect. And if you want to live up to your name then you should be like your brother. But you shudder - you wither and you grow pallid - at the thought of becoming like your brother. And again that little voice in your head pipes up, ‘isn’t that what you’re trying to do?’. Again you ignore it and brace yourself for the pain as you once again prepare to stand up and go on your way.
This time, you’re fairly successful. You’re limping - but you’re getting there.
It’s almost three o’clock in the afternoon when you finally get to the hospital. Your pace was agonizingly slow and the sun is beating down on you as sweat trickles down your brow. The wound in your arm looks suspiciously like it’s infected and your knee is swollen. You almost say that vulgar word once again but you stop yourself. And your gut twists and churns as you realize that you stopped yourself - unconsciously. You try to tell yourself that you only refrained from cursing because your mom wouldn’t have liked it. But you know that you’re deluding yourself. Emulating your big brother has always been a habit you were never apt to grow out of.
“Bye Shizune-san, see you tomorrow.”
That voice stirs you from your musings. It’s familiar and it’s annoying and it’s - though you would never admit it - comforting.
“Sasuke-kun! What happened to you?”
You grunt (Uchiha’s don’t grunt, that voice in your head says) and allow her to drag you into the hospital. She slings your arm over her shoulder and helps you bear your weight but being who you are, you refuse her help even though you obviously need it. But she’s persistent and she tries again. She never gives up on you - you muse - and this is why you thanked her all those years ago. But she doesn’t know - she doesn’t need to. Again, you’re deluding yourself because you know she deserves to know… but you think no more of it as you allow her to lead you through the sterile hallways of the hospital. You are taken into a room with whitewashed walls and a bed in the corner. The acrid stench of isopropyl alcohol permeates the air and though you hate it, you realize that you’re used to it. She sits you down on the bed and you watch her as she arranges her equipment on the side table. However, you tear your gaze off of her as the door suddenly opens and in comes the Goidame herself.
“Sakura, I thought your shift was over. Shouldn’t you be at home resting?”
“Uhm, yeah, it is but I thought I decided this morning that I’d do some overtime.”
Liar. Your teammate is a liar. You know that she was on her way home before she saw you. The reason why she lied, though, eludes you. And if the quirked eyebrows are any indication, then her mentor probably sees through her lie too. And her eyes land on you and you suspect that she has come to a conclusion. But the older woman apparently decides to leave it at that.
“Very well. But do try to get some rest okay, you’ve been working nonstop for two shifts already.”
“Hai, Tsunade-sama.”
Two shifts… again, you’re amazed at how far she would go just for you. You want to say ‘thank you’ but the words hold so much meaning for the both of you that you opt for a grunt instead… just because it’s less complicated.
“Hn. You don’t have to do this you know.”
“Right. Now, show me your arm.”
The treatment goes on smoothly and before you know it, it’s over. Your leg is fine and your arm’s all patched up. And you can’t help but wish that you had more injuries, because her cool charka felt so good. But then you stop yourself… because you really should be glad that she’s done with the treatment. After all, now you can go back to training and revenge.
“All done.”
You look up to see that she’s looking at you as if she’s going to say something but you decide that whatever it is, you don’t want to hear it. After all, it’s probably another lecture about trying to not be too reckless. And so, you stand up and move past her without giving her so much as a glance, hoping that she’d take the hint.
But she was always persistent…
“Sasuke-kun.”
You briefly consider pretending that you didn’t hear her. You know that this is probably best… after all, useless conversations would just delay you thus delaying your revenge. But your feet don’t seem to want to cooperate with your brain as they stop before you could even get out the door. You keep your back turned as you hear footsteps that indicate that she’s coming over to where you’re standing. You prepare yourself for a tirade about being more careful but you’re surprised when one does not start.
It’s all you can do to keep from jumping as you suddenly feel her forehead rest on the space between your two scapulas. Her small hands are grasping the back of your shirt and judging by the almost inaudible sniffing, she’s crying again. You’re confused - perplexed - at this display of affection. Never once has she acted like this after you came back - no, not after you came back - after you were brought back forcefully by Naruto. Sure, she was friendly and she always conversed with you but she was always purposely avoiding any skin-to-skin contact. But this - this was so unexpected, so irregular, so…
“Take care of yourself… please.”
And her words, said so quietly and so pleadingly, moved you more than any of her lectures ever could. You know that this one is different. And your legs turn into jelly and your heartbeat quickens… feelings that are so familiar… you’ve felt them before… that night when she confessed her love for you… and you hope that she doesn’t notice… because now would be the worst time to give her any indication - any semblance of hope - that you cared. No, not now… she doesn’t need to know how much you cared now. Maybe later… if… if… just… not now. And so, you keep silent for fear of saying something uncharacteristic… something incriminating… something telling… something binding…
The both of you stay like that for a while. With her forehead pressed on your back and her hands clinging desperately to your shirt and for a while, the only sound that could be heard is her quiet sobbing.
“I still love you… with all my heart.”
You grit your teeth and clench your fists as you keep yourself from turning around to face her. You want nothing more than to reciprocate her feelings but you know - oh, you know so damn well that now is not the time. And so, before you make another mistake, you decide to go.
But not before you leave her with something… something to hold on to... something that doesn't satisfy... but is enough... You shouldn’t… but you still do… because you’ve always been selfish… you were selfish when you were thirteen and you’re still selfish now… and you know that what you will say is enough to keep her waiting for you… and you want her to wait for you… no… you need her to wait for you… even though you know that you don’t deserve her… and that it would be wrong… so extremely wrong… to make her wait for you…
“Sakura. Thank You.”
And with that you wrench yourself free from her grip and walk away…
As you stuff your bag with food and weapons, you think about your brother who has once again deprived you of a chance at happiness. And you curse…
“Fuck.”
Once again, you’re reminded about how you shouldn’t curse because you’re an Uchiha… but this time, you’re angry and you’re bitter and you hate - so damn bitter - you hate how you have to throw everything else away just so you could avenge a clan that’s dead-dead-dead.
But you have no choice and you’re too deep into this avenger-thing that it’s unthinkable for you to stop now. Not when your revenge is just a week away. You’re leaving the village tomorrow… somehow, you think, Sakura knows… that she told you to take care of yourself was an indication that she acknowledges that she can’t stop you. You muse that she has great intuition when it comes to you… or maybe she just knows you too well…
And once again, she has given you her heart. And you only have to reach out and grab hold of it to gain so much… so much…
That voice in your head leers at you and asks you, ‘And what will you gain with revenge?’
Nothing.
But you never listen to that little voice and so you’ll push through with your revenge even though you’ll most probably end up dead when you haven’t even lived yet. Your only comfort, you think as you strap your Kusanagi to your side, is that if you come back alive, you’ll find her waiting… waiting for you… and finally, you can have a chance at happiness…
But then again, you’ll probably end up dead… and you’ll only cause her to waste more than half of her life waiting for you… which makes you a jerk… an asshole… a bastard…
You’re pretty sure that your -dead- clan would be disgraced at the next words you will utter… but what the hell… you’re already giving up so much for them that if they so much as voice their displeasure, you’d take a leaf out of Itachi’s book and massacre them a second time around. Good thing the dead can’t talk, then.
“Fuck.”