Knocking me sideways
Who: Sasuke Uchiha (earned_my_eyes) and Sakura Haruno (sucker_punches)
When: Late afternoon/early evening.
Where: The Dojo.
Format: Paragraph, past tense.
What: Oh boy. Heavy, unwelcome conversations ahead.
Warnings: Angst. Lots of it. Violence as well, but that's par for the course with Sakura involved.
She was so tired, she thought.
Not just physically, although she certainly was that, too. There were both of her patrol schedules, and work, and helping at the dojo, and Itachi, who was already as ruthless a task master as she had ever encountered in her life, and between all of that she wasn't sure how she found the energy to do anything else. But she could handle these things, she told herself. It wasn't as though she hadn't pushed herself to the edge of exhaustion before.
Sakura had been trained by Princess Tsunade, after all.
But it was the emotional wear that really got to her, the thing that clutched for her ankles and fouled up her feet.
As she descended the stairs from her apartment into the dojo, she wondered when the last time she'd ever had a good conversation with Sasuke was.
... after pondering that for a couple of minutes, she wondered if she'd ever had a good conversation with him. Sakura was certain she must have, maybe once, but it was becoming difficult to remember when that was. Maybe when they were kids, before he left the village and everything went to hell.
That was a hard reality to accept.
She loved him, she did. Her love for Sasuke was a permanent scar on her heart, a demon she couldn't exorcise, and the most wonderful thing to ever happen to her all rolled up in one. Terrible, because it made her promise to do things she would never do otherwise, had made her actually do those things. Beautiful, because it was the thing that gave her the determination to better herself; it was the thing that gave her the legs to storm into Tsunade's office; it was the thing that gave her the courage not to bolt.
But it tired her so much of the time. Like a parasite, it sucked up all her strength and wore her to the bone and life would be so much simpler if she could just. Let it. Go.
Sakura wasn't one for the easy path, though. She'd tried it before and found it wasn't really to her taste. So he would always be there.
Like then: as she entered the dojo, there he was, the object of her very thoughts, tidying things up. It made her pause, startled, forgetting what it was she'd intended to do in the first place. A moment to collect her scattered thoughts, and then:
"Hi."
When: Late afternoon/early evening.
Where: The Dojo.
Format: Paragraph, past tense.
What: Oh boy. Heavy, unwelcome conversations ahead.
Warnings: Angst. Lots of it. Violence as well, but that's par for the course with Sakura involved.
She was so tired, she thought.
Not just physically, although she certainly was that, too. There were both of her patrol schedules, and work, and helping at the dojo, and Itachi, who was already as ruthless a task master as she had ever encountered in her life, and between all of that she wasn't sure how she found the energy to do anything else. But she could handle these things, she told herself. It wasn't as though she hadn't pushed herself to the edge of exhaustion before.
Sakura had been trained by Princess Tsunade, after all.
But it was the emotional wear that really got to her, the thing that clutched for her ankles and fouled up her feet.
As she descended the stairs from her apartment into the dojo, she wondered when the last time she'd ever had a good conversation with Sasuke was.
... after pondering that for a couple of minutes, she wondered if she'd ever had a good conversation with him. Sakura was certain she must have, maybe once, but it was becoming difficult to remember when that was. Maybe when they were kids, before he left the village and everything went to hell.
That was a hard reality to accept.
She loved him, she did. Her love for Sasuke was a permanent scar on her heart, a demon she couldn't exorcise, and the most wonderful thing to ever happen to her all rolled up in one. Terrible, because it made her promise to do things she would never do otherwise, had made her actually do those things. Beautiful, because it was the thing that gave her the determination to better herself; it was the thing that gave her the legs to storm into Tsunade's office; it was the thing that gave her the courage not to bolt.
But it tired her so much of the time. Like a parasite, it sucked up all her strength and wore her to the bone and life would be so much simpler if she could just. Let it. Go.
Sakura wasn't one for the easy path, though. She'd tried it before and found it wasn't really to her taste. So he would always be there.
Like then: as she entered the dojo, there he was, the object of her very thoughts, tidying things up. It made her pause, startled, forgetting what it was she'd intended to do in the first place. A moment to collect her scattered thoughts, and then:
"Hi."