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She was the colour of winter, the scent of blossoms, and the contradictions of a summer rain. Her canvas was fire nourished by watercolours of varying hues. Sai could get lost in the sensations of it for hours on end. If given half a chance to.
He couldn’t describe Sakura Haruo with anything simple or mundane. She was the opposite of that, to him.
Her hands on his bare skin were warm and inviting, caressing and caring. Even when they didn’t need to be. The flow of her chakra was steady and strong as it worked on his body. Her bottom lip is plump under the pressure of her teeth. The look of concentration on her face with just a hint of concern. His cough of blood and gasp for air distorted the colours in his vision before it went momentarily black, then returned to a splotched red.
“Hold on, you idiot.”
And her voice was honeysuckle. Sai closed his eyes. As she worked to undo the damage that he’d brought upon himself, all he could think of was that he didn’t care if he almost died to achieve this. And he knew that made him a first-class idiot. In her words. He wasn’t oblivious to his faults, like so many people had always assumed. They were suppressed; covered up with fake smiles and rigid social cues. He also hid himself behind his art. It had been years since Danzo controlled him, and he knew he was just replacing one crutch with another. But there was nothing he couldn’t use as a painting metaphor – a brace against his fear of rejection. Even his understandings of personal relationships.
We all wear masks.
He used to wear a more obvious mask. Now he hid behind words and colour.
The question of his existence. He didn’t care. Sai only knew he was still here because of his friends. How he got here didn’t matter. The question of his purpose. He didn’t care. Sai decided, the moment Team Kakashi accepted him, that he could make his own purpose. But the question of who he was. Sai had no idea.
Dealing with emotions he’d kept packed away for years was a larger strain on him than he’d have thought. He had trouble rifling through it without a mask. It was damn impossible. So, every object of interest had a colour. Or at least some kind of chromatic analogy. The angry pain and weightlessness of being under Sakura Haruno’s healing chakra but being unable to move without coughing up his own blood was a variety of hues: red, black, white, and blue.
“Why?”
Sai blinked heavily, letting out a surprised rasping sound. “W-why?”
Yes, why?
She was gritting her teeth and he supposed she deserved an explanation. Her meaning was clear. Sai didn’t have the strength to play dumb on that. And she wouldn’t buy it anyway. Sakura’s warmth enveloped him as she continued to heal his wounds. It wouldn’t take long. Long enough for her to reprimand him an insane number of times and threaten him with further bodily harm if he ever let this happen again.
But no admonishment came.
I must be worse off than I thought.
Sakura was always surprising him. Her colours were neutral but inescapable. But she did add different colours to her palette at times; removing them as necessary to begin again with something knew. She definitely did it unconsciously. She had no artistic talent but could draw a bit. Everyone can draw.
You just pick up a pencil and start drawing.
But she was terrible at it. Stick figures were her limit when it came to creating something that resembled reality. Sakura had shown him one day and he burst out laughing. It made her frown. Then she punched him right through the nearest wall. It had been the last time she’d laid a fist on him. From then on, her hands had only been gentle and reproachful.
He remembered the first time she ever did that.
"You'll have to show me how you do that, sometime." Sai remembered her saying.
He had nodded to her without taking his eyes off the canvas he’d been working on. A few seconds later she’d covered his hand with hers, moving with his strokes as he painted his own interpretation of the gardens outside his apartment, clearly trying to work out how he did it so easily. He never forgot the sensuality of it all.
Sight, Sound, Smell, Taste, and Touch.
People had many more senses, but it always came down to these basic ones. Sakura embodied every one of them and colour, to him. A good reason to keep his mask on. To pretend he didn’t care about her as much as he did. The emotions he’d kept hidden had to go back into hiding. How else could he smile around her? What else could he do?
Her hands on his stomach.
“Sai?”
He opened his eyes slowly. Right. He hadn’t actually answered her question. Her eyes were decidedly softer this time, though she’d lost none of her insistence. She was a stubborn one. It had always been a part of her charm. He sighed, feeling his lungs clear. There was no uncontrollable fit of coughing and blood this time.
“Why?”
There was that question again. He supposed it really did need an answer now.
“Because.”
She scoffed. “You deliberately provoked Sasuke into almost killing you, just because?”
Sai wanted those hands on him. But more than that, he wanted someone to care enough to react to him. Sasuke seemed the prime target to release on. And he wondered if the Uchiha was the only one who’d seen through Sai’s mask. To his secrets. That Sharingan twitched when it looked at him.
"You really should know better than to start this kind of argument,” Sakura said.
He smiled up at her. The corner of her mouth twisted as she frowned down at him, and he knew he hadn't done it properly. With her palms on his abdomen, her chakra coursing through him, and her hands stained in his blood ... The twitch of his extremities was not as easy to control.
That’s why. Sensations invoke colour, which in turn help him appreciate his feelings. Feelings that need to be locked away. And yet he still finds himself fascinated by them.
Sasuke was rarely angry since the end of the war. He’d never been one for showing emotion, or so Sai had heard, but this newer calm about him was different. Even people who hadn’t known him well back then had seen through it. But the former ANBU who had taken his place, momentarily, as the ice cube of Team Kakashi seemed to rile him up.
He dislikes me more than most.
And Sai had no idea why. He only used it to elicit something from someone.
Sai had a way of getting under peoples' skin. He always knew the wrong thing to say. And the Uchiha knew how to react the wrong way. Gone were the days when Sakura would pummel Sai for saying things she didn't want to hear. Even Naruto barely twitched when Sai said something inappropriate. Not even Kakashi or Yamato worried about Sai's bad interpersonal skills anymore.
They were all obviously over it. Even the rest of the Konoha Eleven, who hadn't really been exposed to his daily missteps, to begin with. And that pained him more than he was willing to admit.
Except for Sasuke, who didn't even know him. It was only the traitor who had a strong reaction to him. And maybe that was why Sai liked to push his buttons. Normally, he'd say aggravating things without meaning to, but he was far better at reading the room than he used to be. No, when the Uchiha got riled up, it was fun. Sai didn't normally push him too far, since he'd recognised, he was basically just doing it for attention. He'd never been the attention seeker before. But Team Kakashi had taught him the value. Whenever one of them desperately wanted something, they caused a scene. They went above and beyond the call of duty. But this newest fight with Sasuke had Sai contemplating how he might've misinterpreted their intentions.
He just wanted someone to care about what he said.
Sai coughed again; it was softer and less raspy before, but Sakura sighed, shaking her head at him.
Or maybe I just want her to react to me.
Yes. That was it.
Everyone knew she was in love with the traitor. So offending Sasuke had to rile her up too, right?
But here she was, healing him in a somewhat semi-calm manner, and all he got for his troubles was three broken ribs, a punctured lung, bloody nose and fractured skull. She hadn’t rushed to Sasuke’s side or defence. She hadn’t reprimanded Sai for his words. She just sighed. Deeply. Disappointed.
Am I that annoying?
“We all wear masks,” he said softly. She didn’t refute that, lowering her eyes to avoid looking at him now. He was on a roll, so Sai decided to get it off his chest. But he couldn’t come right out and tell her exactly how she made him feel. His mask was too comfortable. He had to use his colour analogies.
“Team Kakashi…” Sai trailed off for a moment and Sakura hesitated until he started talking again. “Kakashi-senpai is grey and purple; reserved and neutral but so mysterious.”
He looked up at her and Sakura stared back at him, surprised. Sunlight filtered through the tree above them. He’d landed, after Sasuke’s last attack, directly under the lone tree on the sideline of their usual training ground. Sai blinked slowly up at the pinkette, momentarily startled by the softening of her face as she smiled at his metaphor.
“Yamato… is curious and practical, but dominant when pushed. His colours are brown and grey.”
Her lips parted softly, as though she was thinking of interrupting him, but then she closed her mouth tightly.
“Naruto is brash and loud, but loyal and softer on the inside,” he continued. “His colours are yellow and orange.”
“Sai—”
“You,” he interrupted her, coughing lightly again, which made her refocus her attention on his wounds. “You’re… beautiful.”
Sakura’s face suddenly had a hue of pink, and he cocked his head to the side a little, before wincing and wondering if he also had a concussion.
“Your colours are black and white, for power and innocence.”
But what about her personality? Sakura shifted slightly, waiting for him to expand, but he didn’t seem to be in a hurry to do so. How hard had he hit his head? She moved her hands from his chest, lightly skimming his skin as she went. Her fingers rested gently on the sides of his head as she checked him for a concussion. They both waited for a minute until she was done with that, the pain easing from his temples, returning her hands to his torso.
“I’m afraid I have no idea what I am, though.”
“You’re the paintbrush,” she said without thinking.
Silence passed between them, both startled by her accidental revelation. But no, that wasn’t even right. She didn’t know much about colours, but Sakura was sure there were ones that represented him well. She just had no idea what those colours would be. The paintbrush was important. It brought all the colours together. But it wasn’t achromatic.
I’ll figure it out and assign the colours to him, myself.
“I would very much like to paint you one day, Sakura.”
She released her hold on his chest. The wounds were gone but his body was just too exhausted to move. Nothing she did would fix that. He just needed to rest. Chakra exhaustion was a guarantee when sparring with either Sasuke or Naruto. And even more so if the combat became serious. Sai didn’t regret it. It got him here, to having Sakura’s hands on him. Having her worry and fuss over him. Her bloodied hands were not green with her chakra, but there was another warmth emanating from her as she continued to caress his alabaster skin with her fingertips. Another meaning to her touch, now that she was done with healing his wounds.
“You mean Team Kakashi.”
He closed his eyes again “Them as well.”
More silence. He found it to be surprisingly comfortable.
“Sai?”
He didn’t answer, just breathing deeply.
“What you said.” Sakura clenched her fists against his skin, like she was trying to grab a hold of him with her fingers. “About Sasuke. I… Sasuke isn’t. I don’t… I mean, we’re not—”
"You care about him," Sai interrupted her, opening his eyes gingerly. The exhaustion was setting in, and it was an effort and a half to look up at her.
Sakura sighed and leant down to kiss the corner of his mouth gently, surprising him. Her lips hovered over his, brushing them lightly. For a moment he thought she might kiss him; his dark eyes widened at the sight of her green orbs mere inches from his own. The sadness was almost as intense as the kindness on her face. She watched as Sai could no longer focus on her; his eyes fluttered closed, and a real smile adorned his face this time. And the last thing he heard before he blacked out was her whispered, "I care about you too, idiot. More than you know."
Her lips finally pressed against his as Sai began to dream.
As it turns out, Sakura Haruno was hiding behind her own mask as well.
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