a drumbeat to which we must all march
Fandom: Naruto
Characters: Hyuuga Neji & Haruno Sakura & Nara Shikamaru
Prompts: 250. a story never to tell & unthemed 5/ 06. breathless
Word Count: 1817
Rating: T
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.
Notes: Written for 500themes & mission_insane.
-
Sakura peers up casually at the darkening sky, emeralds hazing over as her mind wanders the sheer nothings of the moment. There is a mundane, repetitive beat to her life and their lifestyle; rinse and repeat, rinse and repeat. These little moments, caught in between with nothing balanced in the mix; what are they, except little nuggets of freedom? Sakura would have liked to stay like this, drifting on and not thinking for ages, eons even, but the nearly silent, rhythmic beat of her better half’s footfalls rouse her. Sometimes she wonders if his footsteps actually make noise, or it’s just her imagination after so much time together. Regardless, she feels his approach through their bond, forged through time.
A comfortable smile falls across her features as she leans back on the wooden counter for support. “How long will you guys be gone?”
“It shouldn’t take longer than a week,” Sasuke replies as he adjusts the strap of his katana. A familiar frown finds its way onto his face as the stubborn strap refused to be subdued. Almost unconsciously, Sakura moves forward to help him. To make up for each other’s shortcomings, a voice of the past echoes in her mind.
“Be safe. Don’t do anything stupid. Don’t let Naruto do anything stupid, either. And please, for god’s sake, don’t join together to do something doubly reckless.”
“Sakura…” he sighs. This is a warning she utters constantly, and is now like sandpaper, grating away at his nerves.
“I know!” she throws her arms up in defeat. “I just wish we were still a team together, you know? It doesn’t feel right in my heart. How can I rest when I know you guys are out there, without me beside you on the field?”
“We’ll be fine. We’re not kids anymore, Sakura.”
“That just means you guys are able to do crazier things now,” she sighs, absentmindedly fixing his crooked mask. “Anyways, I might not be here when you guys return. I think shishou mentioned a mission earlier.”
He nods once more, his raven hair catching a ray of the dying sun. “You be careful, too.”
And then, like it’s the most natural thing in the world, they lean in for a bittersweet kiss. It should be natural, she thinks, for a married couple of nearly three years to kiss and worry about each other, but there is always that nudge of doubt, nugget of insincerity lingering. Their kiss is like many of the things they share; a beautiful lie, holding within its tangy taste a promise of the future. But for them, for any shinobi, what are promises but lies?
She whispers something into their kiss, and he just about catches the whisper flitting through the air between them. “I love you,” she says.
Sasuke mumbles something unintelligible in reply as he slips through her hold and out into the unknown future. Her emeralds trace his shadows until he is but a spec on the horizon, and only then does she drop the lovely, stricken look of a loved one left behind. It’s not exactly apathy that replaces her forlorn look, but it’s similar.
Lying is simply one of the things she has improved on over the years, but she can’t help but think that with every day that passes, less of her reality is a lie, and more of her lie falls in place with reality.
-
The Godaime’s eyes flash as she looks down at her coral haired, fiery tempered apprentice. “You’re requesting a mission?”
“You’re always talking about the ANBU shortage, shishou.”
The blonde’s eyes stay piercing for another moment before an exasperated sigh escapes her lips. “That’s true. But I’m also short staffed at the hospital. You should know that since you run the place. You can’t be spared there.”
“Ino is more than capable enough to cover for me while I’m gone. It’s not like it’s permanent.”
“Maybe, but…” Tsunade hesitates, looking for an shred of an excuse. When she finds none, a look of annoyed resignation crosses her face as she brings her fingers up to her temple. “Fine. I didn’t want to give this to you guys, but it seems like I have no choice. Anyone else qualified is either away or dead. Don’t kill two of my most prized ANBU on this mission.”
The subtextual plea for their survival is crystal clear in Sakura’s ears as she nods. “Thank you, shishou,” she whispers, moving forward to sweep her surrogate mother in an impromptu embrace. Tsunade heaves a quiet sigh, returning the embrace while absentmindedly stroking the girl’s back. There is more to Sakura’s thank you than its surface value, with depths that are too taboo to word.
“I know, Sakura. I know.”
-
“I’m leaving on a mission,” he pauses, drawling his words lazily as any good Nara would. “Tomorrow.”
Ino quirks a brow, but he does not miss the flash of misery present in her round cerulean orbs. “Again? But you’ve barely recovered from your last mission.”
“Yeah. Things have been pretty hectic since the roundup, it can’t be helped.”
“Will you be gone long?”
“A week, probably. But you know how it is.”
She pauses, both in speech and in the repetitive stirring of her scalding soup. “Yeah. Of course.”
-
It’s still dark, but they’ve already set out. The sun is but barely peaking over the horizon in the far distance, and for every inch it moves up in the sky, the three silhouettes move further away from the towering walls of home. It’s also silent, but not out of awkwardness or unwillingness. Rather, it’s become habit, for the first few hours to be shrouded in nothing but the voices of the forest. They’re moments of reflection used to contemplate and criticise every sin they might allow themselves to indulge in.
It is not until they are at least fifty miles away that their silence and impossible pace are broken. Perfectly in sync, like a dance routine that has been rehearsed ten thousand times before, they drop into the next clearing into each other, inhaling and drowning in the scent of their own intoxication. Within seconds they are but a tangled mess of limbs on the padded forest floor, dizzy and alive. Sakura, with her head buried deep within the burrows of Neji’s neck and body curved perfectly into Shikamaru’s embrace, takes a deep, cleansing inhale.
“Hey, you,” she whispers into the air between them, voice raspy with negligence. “It’s been a while.”
“Almost two weeks,” Shikamaru mumbles nearly unintelligibly.
“How have you two been?” Neji offers to the conversation quietly.
“Bored. Nothing to do while I recovered, no one to play shogi with. Ino’s busy with work, usually.”
“Busy, busy, busy,” Sakura sighs. “The hospital is so understaffed lately that I’m practically living there. Everyone is practically living there. Ino too.” This she says with a sort of pointed, deliberate look at Shikamaru, but she turns to Neji before Shikamaru can decipher it fully. “And what about you? I haven’t seen you at all since your post-mission check up.”
“I’ve been good,” Neji replies, and after a pause, adds, “Tenten and the twins are good as well.”
The mention of twins sparks a forgotten topic in Sakura’s mind, and she hesitates before she decides that if she starts keeping secrets from them, she’ll have no safe haven left. So she ventures quietly, “I think Sasuke wants to have kids soon. I mean, he hasn’t explicitly said so, but he’s not the most subtle when it comes to things he really wants.”
“Little Uchiha boys with pink hair. Sasuke will love that.”
“Or maybe you’ll have a little girl, and Sasuke won’t have to die of a painful cardiac episode,” her boys reply without missing a beat. Relief isn’t strong enough of a feeling to describe what she feels - exhilaration, bliss, elation - all mingled together as a reminder that with them, she never has to worry. Sakura laughs it all out, and just like that, the invisible wall that erects every time they become reacquainted after an absence disappears and their conversation just flows from there, mingled with laughter, earlier topics entirely forgotten.
For now, their other lives take a back seat as they laugh at each other’s antics and just breathe in the atmosphere, revelling in the moment. They have been in this too long, and have simply resigned themselves to the fact that no matter how real this needs to be, no matter how impossibly deep their bonds go, no matter how good they are together, this is it. This is the extent of what can be in the face of their reality. But they have accepted, somewhere along the way, to tolerating and perhaps even enjoying the reality that shrouds them. At least for each and every I love you, there is some semblance of truth lacing each declaration. Every time they say it to their respective spouses, it somehow becomes more real, until eventually, Sakura thinks, she will no longer be able to differentiate between their love and the love she so easily says out.
“How long do you think shishou will let us out for?” Sakura asks at last, bringing them back to the taboo of their actions.
Unlike before, their replies are not instantaneous. Sakura can see the wheels turning in their minds, the miserable gleam in Shikamaru’s glossy eyes and poorly hidden ones mirrored in Neji’s. “Two weeks at the most, probably,” Shikamaru offers at last.
Neji’s brows crinkle for a moment. “This mission might prove to be a handful though. If we’re efficient we can probably wrap it up in five days, give or take a day.”
If we’re efficient, he says. Of course they’re efficient. After Sasuke and Naruto’s team, they are the most efficient, and sometimes even more. It is a learned skill, and more accurately described, a forced skill. It is the product of each hidden getaway for them - each day wasted equals one day less to spend together. They’ve tested it before, daring to lollygag in their return trip from a mission. Unsurprisingly, Tsunade was not amused, dangling a permanent red flag over their heads - overplay it again, and there will be no more. It’s for their own good, they know, but they can’t help the bitter taste of the truth. One week together. It’s not perfect, and it’s not ideal, but it’s something, and is at least seven days more than nothing.
The solemnity of the moment is broken by Sakura’s smile. “Well, what’re we doing here wasting time? Let’s go! We’ve got a few bastards to kill.”
Her boys chuckle at her vulgar tongue as they untangle and begin to rid the evidence of their presence. It takes no more than two minutes with their combined efforts, and without another word, they set off towards the next two weeks of their lives.
Characters: Hyuuga Neji & Haruno Sakura & Nara Shikamaru
Prompts: 250. a story never to tell & unthemed 5/ 06. breathless
Word Count: 1817
Rating: T
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.
Notes: Written for 500themes & mission_insane.
-
Sakura peers up casually at the darkening sky, emeralds hazing over as her mind wanders the sheer nothings of the moment. There is a mundane, repetitive beat to her life and their lifestyle; rinse and repeat, rinse and repeat. These little moments, caught in between with nothing balanced in the mix; what are they, except little nuggets of freedom? Sakura would have liked to stay like this, drifting on and not thinking for ages, eons even, but the nearly silent, rhythmic beat of her better half’s footfalls rouse her. Sometimes she wonders if his footsteps actually make noise, or it’s just her imagination after so much time together. Regardless, she feels his approach through their bond, forged through time.
A comfortable smile falls across her features as she leans back on the wooden counter for support. “How long will you guys be gone?”
“It shouldn’t take longer than a week,” Sasuke replies as he adjusts the strap of his katana. A familiar frown finds its way onto his face as the stubborn strap refused to be subdued. Almost unconsciously, Sakura moves forward to help him. To make up for each other’s shortcomings, a voice of the past echoes in her mind.
“Be safe. Don’t do anything stupid. Don’t let Naruto do anything stupid, either. And please, for god’s sake, don’t join together to do something doubly reckless.”
“Sakura…” he sighs. This is a warning she utters constantly, and is now like sandpaper, grating away at his nerves.
“I know!” she throws her arms up in defeat. “I just wish we were still a team together, you know? It doesn’t feel right in my heart. How can I rest when I know you guys are out there, without me beside you on the field?”
“We’ll be fine. We’re not kids anymore, Sakura.”
“That just means you guys are able to do crazier things now,” she sighs, absentmindedly fixing his crooked mask. “Anyways, I might not be here when you guys return. I think shishou mentioned a mission earlier.”
He nods once more, his raven hair catching a ray of the dying sun. “You be careful, too.”
And then, like it’s the most natural thing in the world, they lean in for a bittersweet kiss. It should be natural, she thinks, for a married couple of nearly three years to kiss and worry about each other, but there is always that nudge of doubt, nugget of insincerity lingering. Their kiss is like many of the things they share; a beautiful lie, holding within its tangy taste a promise of the future. But for them, for any shinobi, what are promises but lies?
She whispers something into their kiss, and he just about catches the whisper flitting through the air between them. “I love you,” she says.
Sasuke mumbles something unintelligible in reply as he slips through her hold and out into the unknown future. Her emeralds trace his shadows until he is but a spec on the horizon, and only then does she drop the lovely, stricken look of a loved one left behind. It’s not exactly apathy that replaces her forlorn look, but it’s similar.
Lying is simply one of the things she has improved on over the years, but she can’t help but think that with every day that passes, less of her reality is a lie, and more of her lie falls in place with reality.
-
The Godaime’s eyes flash as she looks down at her coral haired, fiery tempered apprentice. “You’re requesting a mission?”
“You’re always talking about the ANBU shortage, shishou.”
The blonde’s eyes stay piercing for another moment before an exasperated sigh escapes her lips. “That’s true. But I’m also short staffed at the hospital. You should know that since you run the place. You can’t be spared there.”
“Ino is more than capable enough to cover for me while I’m gone. It’s not like it’s permanent.”
“Maybe, but…” Tsunade hesitates, looking for an shred of an excuse. When she finds none, a look of annoyed resignation crosses her face as she brings her fingers up to her temple. “Fine. I didn’t want to give this to you guys, but it seems like I have no choice. Anyone else qualified is either away or dead. Don’t kill two of my most prized ANBU on this mission.”
The subtextual plea for their survival is crystal clear in Sakura’s ears as she nods. “Thank you, shishou,” she whispers, moving forward to sweep her surrogate mother in an impromptu embrace. Tsunade heaves a quiet sigh, returning the embrace while absentmindedly stroking the girl’s back. There is more to Sakura’s thank you than its surface value, with depths that are too taboo to word.
“I know, Sakura. I know.”
-
“I’m leaving on a mission,” he pauses, drawling his words lazily as any good Nara would. “Tomorrow.”
Ino quirks a brow, but he does not miss the flash of misery present in her round cerulean orbs. “Again? But you’ve barely recovered from your last mission.”
“Yeah. Things have been pretty hectic since the roundup, it can’t be helped.”
“Will you be gone long?”
“A week, probably. But you know how it is.”
She pauses, both in speech and in the repetitive stirring of her scalding soup. “Yeah. Of course.”
-
It’s still dark, but they’ve already set out. The sun is but barely peaking over the horizon in the far distance, and for every inch it moves up in the sky, the three silhouettes move further away from the towering walls of home. It’s also silent, but not out of awkwardness or unwillingness. Rather, it’s become habit, for the first few hours to be shrouded in nothing but the voices of the forest. They’re moments of reflection used to contemplate and criticise every sin they might allow themselves to indulge in.
It is not until they are at least fifty miles away that their silence and impossible pace are broken. Perfectly in sync, like a dance routine that has been rehearsed ten thousand times before, they drop into the next clearing into each other, inhaling and drowning in the scent of their own intoxication. Within seconds they are but a tangled mess of limbs on the padded forest floor, dizzy and alive. Sakura, with her head buried deep within the burrows of Neji’s neck and body curved perfectly into Shikamaru’s embrace, takes a deep, cleansing inhale.
“Hey, you,” she whispers into the air between them, voice raspy with negligence. “It’s been a while.”
“Almost two weeks,” Shikamaru mumbles nearly unintelligibly.
“How have you two been?” Neji offers to the conversation quietly.
“Bored. Nothing to do while I recovered, no one to play shogi with. Ino’s busy with work, usually.”
“Busy, busy, busy,” Sakura sighs. “The hospital is so understaffed lately that I’m practically living there. Everyone is practically living there. Ino too.” This she says with a sort of pointed, deliberate look at Shikamaru, but she turns to Neji before Shikamaru can decipher it fully. “And what about you? I haven’t seen you at all since your post-mission check up.”
“I’ve been good,” Neji replies, and after a pause, adds, “Tenten and the twins are good as well.”
The mention of twins sparks a forgotten topic in Sakura’s mind, and she hesitates before she decides that if she starts keeping secrets from them, she’ll have no safe haven left. So she ventures quietly, “I think Sasuke wants to have kids soon. I mean, he hasn’t explicitly said so, but he’s not the most subtle when it comes to things he really wants.”
“Little Uchiha boys with pink hair. Sasuke will love that.”
“Or maybe you’ll have a little girl, and Sasuke won’t have to die of a painful cardiac episode,” her boys reply without missing a beat. Relief isn’t strong enough of a feeling to describe what she feels - exhilaration, bliss, elation - all mingled together as a reminder that with them, she never has to worry. Sakura laughs it all out, and just like that, the invisible wall that erects every time they become reacquainted after an absence disappears and their conversation just flows from there, mingled with laughter, earlier topics entirely forgotten.
For now, their other lives take a back seat as they laugh at each other’s antics and just breathe in the atmosphere, revelling in the moment. They have been in this too long, and have simply resigned themselves to the fact that no matter how real this needs to be, no matter how impossibly deep their bonds go, no matter how good they are together, this is it. This is the extent of what can be in the face of their reality. But they have accepted, somewhere along the way, to tolerating and perhaps even enjoying the reality that shrouds them. At least for each and every I love you, there is some semblance of truth lacing each declaration. Every time they say it to their respective spouses, it somehow becomes more real, until eventually, Sakura thinks, she will no longer be able to differentiate between their love and the love she so easily says out.
“How long do you think shishou will let us out for?” Sakura asks at last, bringing them back to the taboo of their actions.
Unlike before, their replies are not instantaneous. Sakura can see the wheels turning in their minds, the miserable gleam in Shikamaru’s glossy eyes and poorly hidden ones mirrored in Neji’s. “Two weeks at the most, probably,” Shikamaru offers at last.
Neji’s brows crinkle for a moment. “This mission might prove to be a handful though. If we’re efficient we can probably wrap it up in five days, give or take a day.”
If we’re efficient, he says. Of course they’re efficient. After Sasuke and Naruto’s team, they are the most efficient, and sometimes even more. It is a learned skill, and more accurately described, a forced skill. It is the product of each hidden getaway for them - each day wasted equals one day less to spend together. They’ve tested it before, daring to lollygag in their return trip from a mission. Unsurprisingly, Tsunade was not amused, dangling a permanent red flag over their heads - overplay it again, and there will be no more. It’s for their own good, they know, but they can’t help the bitter taste of the truth. One week together. It’s not perfect, and it’s not ideal, but it’s something, and is at least seven days more than nothing.
The solemnity of the moment is broken by Sakura’s smile. “Well, what’re we doing here wasting time? Let’s go! We’ve got a few bastards to kill.”
Her boys chuckle at her vulgar tongue as they untangle and begin to rid the evidence of their presence. It takes no more than two minutes with their combined efforts, and without another word, they set off towards the next two weeks of their lives.