[ she doesn't say anything else. Sasuke doesn't blame her for it, but he draws her in when her fists tangle in the back of his shirt. his own arms are a band of iron around her ribs, and though Sasuke isn't the kind of person to be in this position— the solid force— the strength in his arms betray his ability.
his cheek rests against the pink of her hair as she trembles against his chest, but the black of his eyes stare blankly out the open window, unseeing. ]
[ eyes squeezing shut, Sakura inhales a ragged breath. her refusal to cry isn't going anywhere, though the shake in her shoulders and the stutter in her breathing would indicate otherwise. she takes another breath, exhales it more evenly this time.
years ago, she would have done almost anything to feel this, for Sasuke's arms to be around her, holding her close enough for her to hear the beat of his heart. it was strange how things had changed, because she had come to think it would never happen, that there wouldn't ever be a reason for him to be that solid force.
her hand releases his so that it can join her other one, wrapping firm around his shoulders. she wants to return the comfort that his very presence is providing her, but Sakura never really was sure of how to offer that to him.
maybe, when her hands stop shaking, and her need to cry diminishes, she'll drag him up to the roof for a fight. it's what worked last time, wasn't it. ]
[ before he'd learned, before Kurapika, Sasuke would have crushed this sensation hard. ignored it, walked away from it, until it filled him bursting to the seams and lashed out with a violence that couldn't be contained.
both her hands come around to his back and Sasuke ducks his face against her shoulder.
he hasn't hit that wall, yet. but later, it will happen, and his cup will run over and he'll need to release it. ]
[ her grip stays steadfast around him, fingers smoothing out over shoulders when he moves. this- this makes it a little easier, this small amount of concession evens her feelings out marginally. because maybe this is enough, maybe this is the most she can do for him in return right now.
Sakura doesn't know how long he allows her to stay like this; she doesn't care to count, either. the emptiness inside of her is new, aches in ways she won't be able to explain. if she had knew that having a partner would feel like this in their absence, Sakura wonders if she still would have made the same choices.
[ Sasuke doesn't count how long they stay that way, but the sensation is as unusual for him as it is a comfort. this kind of thing— this kind of closeness— the last person to hold him like this had been Rei.
eventually, though, he extricates himself from her arms, but his own hold unfolds until his palms settle on her waist. ]
[ when he moves, her own arms shift, hands falling to rest just above his elbows. she knows that they need to, that eventually is has to be more than just them, but Sakura feels the weight of having to spread the grief. she's done it enough in their world, but it's never so personal. ]
[ he's quiet for a long moment, letting herself pull out of his arms (but not away). his hands stay loose on her waist. if he were any other person, maybe he would lie.
but Sasuke feels each and every loss like a jagged cut on his skin, in his heart. they bleed and they ache and they never heal over. ]
[ part of her realizes that she's doing the same thing by staying in Death City once the war ends, that she's saying goodbye to all of her other friends, the rest of her family. but it feels different somehow; maybe because that's her choice and this one wasn't.
(maybe it's because the spaces left behind from the absence of those people pales in comparison to what her team gives her.) ]
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his cheek rests against the pink of her hair as she trembles against his chest, but the black of his eyes stare blankly out the open window, unseeing. ]
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years ago, she would have done almost anything to feel this, for Sasuke's arms to be around her, holding her close enough for her to hear the beat of his heart. it was strange how things had changed, because she had come to think it would never happen, that there wouldn't ever be a reason for him to be that solid force.
her hand releases his so that it can join her other one, wrapping firm around his shoulders. she wants to return the comfort that his very presence is providing her, but Sakura never really was sure of how to offer that to him.
maybe, when her hands stop shaking, and her need to cry diminishes, she'll drag him up to the roof for a fight. it's what worked last time, wasn't it. ]
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both her hands come around to his back and Sasuke ducks his face against her shoulder.
he hasn't hit that wall, yet. but later, it will happen, and his cup will run over and he'll need to release it. ]
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Sakura doesn't know how long he allows her to stay like this; she doesn't care to count, either. the emptiness inside of her is new, aches in ways she won't be able to explain. if she had knew that having a partner would feel like this in their absence, Sakura wonders if she still would have made the same choices.
(that's a lie -- she knows she would have.) ]
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eventually, though, he extricates himself from her arms, but his own hold unfolds until his palms settle on her waist. ]
We should tell Naruto.
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Things like this- They never get any easier.
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but Sasuke feels each and every loss like a jagged cut on his skin, in his heart. they bleed and they ache and they never heal over. ]
No.
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(maybe it's because the spaces left behind from the absence of those people pales in comparison to what her team gives her.) ]
Thank you for being here.