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Sakura felt her love for autumn was kind of poetic given her namesake. Cherry blossom trees only lasted one to two weeks on average before going dormant, but as apart of the cycle they always came back. Much like all new growth and life, death waited at the end of the spectrum, two sides of the same coin until the sun burned out.
When she wasn't analyzing her fascination in order to find a deeper meaning, what she really loved was Halloween. As much as she appreciated how the leaves changed color and would swirl around her feet as she walked to class in her chunky, warm sweaters none of it compared to the days leading up to what she felt should be a worldwide holiday. Decorating her childhood home top to bottom with her parents were some of her fondest memories. Like all good things, however, that too would come to an end. With high school graduation having passed and the prospect of apartment hunting on the horizon, she’d be limited in what she could do with only a balcony, had bemoaned that fact often enough to anyone within earshot.
Therefore, the year she and Sasori moved into a neighborhood located only a few blocks from university and into a house she’d been euphoric. Real Estate, at the tender age of 18. Ino, I’ve reached the top! A week from Halloween, she decided to go all out. An exorbitant amount of orange fairy lights had been strung along the windows and doorway and at least three hours had been spent on a ladder, stretching webs of faux silk along the gutters and shingles. An inflatable zombie was perched near the front door and gravestones of all shapes dotted the front yard.
Sasori was predictably no help opting instead to watch her slave away for her love of All Hallows’ Eve, but that didn’t spare her from his commentary. To his credit, he didn’t seem to have so much a problem with her decorating as he did with the decorations themselves. A particularity long time had been spent staring bemusedly at a paper ghost with ‘You’re boo-tiful’ painted on its chest in heavy black sharpie. That one had been a gift from her father. ‘I bought most of them from a dollar store, what exactly was he expecting? The second coming of Edvard Munch?’ It was the best she could do with her student budget stretched far as it was. The day she graduated and became a rich surgeon couldn’t come fast enough.
Head cocked to the side Sasori was currently regarding one of her gravestones. Sakura admitted to herself that she’d paused several times to watch as the crisp autumn breezes ruffled the messy locks of his crimson hair. ‘I should just bribe him into sitting out here while I give out candy. He looks right at home.’ She thought with a mischievous smile.
“I can buy you real tombstones, you know,” Sasori said, lip curled faintly as he read the inscription Ima Goner. Which wasn’t much of an improvement over the epitaph if you’re reading this you need to get a life. Then again he couldn’t argue with that, it was sound advice.
‘Does he need to sound like he’s low-key flexing about that? Those things can cost upwards to thousands of dollars, tens of thousands depending on how elaborate the design,’ Sakura thinks as she finished tying off the strings of a hanging skeleton in a nearby tree, making sure to angle it so its translucent robes fluttered in the breeze. The only visible part of its body was the skull. She decided to call him Norman.
Sakura had gone the DIY route with that one and was quite proud of how realistic it looked. Norman had been made with borrowed supplies from Sasori’s workshop, which was located in the basement, including the tattered cloak she’d draped him with. Or was it a lair? Either way she always made sure to knock before entering. It was also the only piece Sasori openly praised. To protect it from the rain and other elements, she had applied a light coat of polyurethane to one side, allowing it to dry before turning Norman over and doing the same to his other exposed side. She repeated the process a second time for even more durability.
You could have been an artist as well, he’d drawled lazily. As Sakura folded and put away the drop cloth, she still wasn’t sure what she’d done to garner that kind of reaction.
Stepping back presently to assess her work, Sakura held no short amount of pride as she regarded the spooky display. From the spiders she’d twined within the webs, the bats hanging from the porch awning to the boarded-up windows with bloody rubber handprints. She’d even added some corrugated festive signs along the walkway. Now she needed to carve some pumpkins.
‘It’s wonderful,’ she thought with only some arrogance. ‘An homage to the Halloween Spirit.’
The next morning a notice was posted to the front door, decreeing that her decorations were disrupting the ‘beautification’ of the neighborhood and how all outdoor décor should be in neutral, ‘tasteful’ tones, and the neighbors politely requesting she take them down.
“Can you believe those assholes?” Sakura muttered darkly and shoved the first load of laundry into the washer. She and Sasori generally shared the household chores, except when it came to cooking. She loved his cooking and he likewise seemed reluctant to compromise in that role. “My decorations are tasteful. They’re the ones with no taste. Why don’t they just nail down a sign out front decreeing No Fun Allowed?” Regrettably, Sasori wasn’t around to hear her witty tirade, he’d already left for class. One of the rare classes they didn’t share since they were working towards different specialties in the surgical field. It also wasn’t the first time she’d carried on a conversation as if he could hear. She didn’t necessarily mean that as a romantic metaphor either as she was highly suspicious the entire house was bugged.
Either way he would be back in 4 hours, and Sakura was certain she felt enough anger over the situation to hold out until then.
She was right.
“Who do they think they are?” Sakura grumbled for what must have been the 12th time in the past half hour. She picked up a carving tool and held it up high, driving it forcefully into the face of her new pumpkin. The guts had already been removed and were in a bag on the table she’d made into her workstation. “Anyway, I refuse to submit to their tyranny. They can go to hell.”
The pumpkin, which she aptly decided to name Jack, said nothing. However, if he could talk, she was certain he’d offer to bite the parties responsible for her foul mood with the jagged teeth she was fitting him with. After she hollowed out the mouth, she removed the blade and again drove it into the tough skin, but with less support in the surface area a chunk of its face fell away.
Sasori was gazing at her with half-lidded eyes. “Have I told you how much I appreciate the way you handle a scalpel?” he cooed.
“Often enough.” Sakura reached up and swiped a piece of sweaty hair away from her face where it escaped from the messy ponytail. She grimaced as she pulled her hand away and felt a trail of gooey strings left behind. ‘Mom I think I’m cohabiting with a serial killer and he keeps trying to cajole me into being his accomplice.’
“As much as I enjoy watching you butcher various organisms dead or alive, I don’t like seeing you unhappy.” Sasori considered possible methods. They lived in an affluent neighborhood, and people in that class bracket were known to value their reputations above all else.
“Whatever you’re thinking it’s wrong. It’s probably illegal, and did I mention wrong?” She looked around for a towel to clean up with but found none within reach. Fueled by earlier feelings of spite she reached out and wiped her hand down the front of his shirt. Although she knew she’d feel guilty about it later.
“I wouldn’t dream of doing anything so nefarious,” Sasori didn’t bother looking down. “Dear, you and I are prodigies in the medical field. We’ve willingly handled far more explicit guts than this.”
Sakura sighed. “While I appreciate the thought, I’ll handle it myself.” She went to finish carving out the nose in what was more of a hack job at this point until she realized the blade was stuck. ‘Oh, come on!’ Huffing, she braced a hand against the top to try and find purchase to dig it out only for it to implode under the force in a mass of sinew, slime and pumpkin brains. She also banged her chin against the table. ‘Ow…’ she saw stars for a moment as fingers slipped under her jawline, gently tilting her face to the side in order to assess the damage. It would form a bruise later.
“Well, it’s not a complete waste,” He reached up and plucked a seed from her hair. The open amusement made her want to punch him. Or kiss him. With her fist. Like a gentle punch-kiss. “I can salvage what’s left of the flesh to make you a pie.”
“One thing,” she said in exasperation, orange guts now mashed against her face and tangled in her hair. “Could you say just one thing that doesn’t make me think I’m sharing a bed with a murderer?”
The next morning, she bought a new pumpkin. Jack had been a lost cause, but her new pumpkin Sally was much more hardcore. She made the stitching Sakura had been forced to sew in look so much cooler.
If there was one small thing that was a point of contention for Sasori, it was his wife’s love for all things pumpkin and pumpkin spice. Cookies, muffins, brownies, pies and cheesecakes, those lattes and iced cappuccinos with the generous shots of cloying syrups. She couldn’t get enough of it. That wasn’t what bothered him, he made her things often enough to satisfy her love for sweet confections. What bothered him was when she tried sneaking in store-bought versions; those were nothing but filler and synthetic microbials. The amount of benzoates and sorbates were generally balanced, but the concentration of BHA and BHT often turned his litmus strips a color far outside an acceptable range. ‘Speaking of which, I’ll need to buy more nutmeg and allspice.’
“You like preserving things, you hate all forms of decay, you work with different types of resins. How is this different?” Sakura asked.
“It’s completely different. We don’t ingest them.” Any method of preservation should be reserved for the sole purpose of something beautiful. The artificial flavoring and scents would only serve to make her sick. It was hardly different from consuming potpourri. He was also aware of the plastic container of cookies she was trying to discreetly hide under the counter and reached around to pluck it from her grasp. “If you think you’ve got away with something it’s because I let you.”
She pouted, turning away to take a pointed sip of her spiced latte with extra milk foam shaped into a little pumpkin. At the very least she wasn’t about to let him steal her drink too. “You’re just like those fun-hating jerks trying to oppress my creativity. Besides, this... thing you have against manufactured stuff is so weird. If it's a matter of taste, I get that. But why do I have to hate it too?"
“You’re my wife.” It was a simple statement of fact. The sky is blue. Water is wet. Sakura Haruno is Sasori Akasuna’s wife. "I've also done nothing to stymie you. Quite the opposite in fact." It was a given that spouses should support each other. Sasori found it oddly easy to feel anger on her behalf but missteps were unavoidable. Especially when the only person he wanted to please was also the first person he wanted to go out of his way for.
Sakura groaned, throwing her hands up. “We only started officially dating six months ago! We are not actually married!”
“And within that time, we ‘officially’ moved in together,” Sasori retorted. They’d also known each other since they were fifteen. As far as he was concerned the moment he'd slowly come to the realization that she could, in fact, match him in intellect was when they'd started dating. His feelings had only intensified after she humiliated their high school chemistry teacher by correcting his math in front of the whole class. 'A ceremony is only a formality.'
Sakura didn’t like to dwell too much on the logistics; she was still fuzzy on how they even qualified for a mortgage. The time Sakura figured out that Sasori’s highest form of regard for another person was treating them less like a single-cell organism and more like one capable of sentient thought had been... awkward, for her at least. She still wasn't sure if respect from Sasori was a blessing or a curse; at that point she started seeing him everywhere on campus. At least he was nice to look at, and she did so enjoy talking to him. She never imagined they'd have so much in common.
Sakura sighed and in a benevolent gesture, pulled the paper lid off and upended the cup into the sink. She watched as the light golden-brown liquid swirled in the drain, resisting the urge to light a stick of incense. ‘So long pumpkin spice flavored goop. I choose love.’
Sasori still hated chemically processed foods, and only tolerated pumpkin spice goods if they were homemade. Every year he also had to replace his mixing bowl because the stains left behind by the batter wouldn’t come out. ‘Orange is an atrocious color.’ It only had a little bit to do with her loudmouth, idiot friend.
Halloween night came and similar to the manner in which she'd attack a homework assignment, Sakura gave out handmade goodie bags to the kids. They were filled with store-bought candy, but it was the thought that counted. She might be technically a poor college student but she never was capable of doing things by halves. When she’d gone trick-or-treating, the candy typically ranged from biscuits, sweet and fizzy candies and of course Kit Kats. She particularly liked Puku Puku Tai. There was something about handing out a fish to kids that tickled her, even if it was little more than a mochi wafer filled with chocolate.
Reaching into a cardboard box full of extra candy she unwrapped a piece and popped it into her mouth, ignoring the irritated looks Sasori was shooting her. 'It's Halloween night and I want to indulge, I say let him sulk. It's not like I'm planning it, but it's not his problem if I make myself sick.'
Meanwhile the redhead was already resigning himself to complaints about sugar-induced fatigue and abdominal cramps. 'We're going to be up all night at this rate.' Plain toast was all he'd be making her later.
Sasori had decided to sit outside with her on the porch swing, arm draped across the knee he'd pulled up. The lights were turned off in the house, leaving them shrouded with only the soft glow from the fairy lights and jack-o'-lanterns illuminating the area (she'd finally managed to get a whole 6 of them right). She may not have tricks planned this year, but kids should have to work for their candy. If that meant approaching her while she was sitting next to what looked like a living personification of Death then so be it. All he had to do was fix them with his usual 1,000-yard stare, eyes smoldering in the dark like perpetual golden hued eyeshine not unlike how an animal's glowed at night. 'He doesn't even need to dress up.' She thought in amusement, shifting over to laze against his shoulder.
Between the groups of kids who were actually brave enough to come closer he'd relayed different accounts about the origin of the Pagan festival. They believed on this night the boundaries between the living and the dead overlapped and the dead would once again come back to life in order to breed sickness and spoil the harvest they had stockpiled for the coming winter. Nowadays the only thing synonymous with the day was brats doing the bare minimum and expecting to be rewarded by dressing up in rudimentary costumes.
"The Gaelic’s would be so disappointed to see how far their tradition has fallen," he said.
"You're so good with children," she replied sarcastically, refilling the bowl of bagged candies on her lap.
"I prefer to look at it like one person's shortcomings are bolstered by another's strengths." He was tracking the movements of a young boy no older than 5 running down the sidewalk before tripping over his own improperly tied shoelaces with a loud Agh! and face planting into the concrete. Sasori turned his nose up at the cloddish display. 'Our children won't be so unsophisticated.'
Hours later after most of the younger trick-or-treaters were turning in, it was time to get ready to attend a party-- one Sasori absolutely did not want to attend. To him it was the ultimate demonstration of his love that he agreed to go at all. While he could be awfully amendable to the things she wanted he'd still prefer to stay in with her. Alone.
Sakura looked towards the glass dome ceiling fixture as if it could provide an answer for this most disturbing turn of events. “I don’t understand.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
“That’s not what I mean,” She shook her head. “I was ready on time, as you requested. I was in the foyer with my coat and shoes on with 5 minutes to spare,” Sakura pulled up the sleeve to check the ruby encrusted Rolex with her index finger. Her ridiculously expensive Rolex which had a scorpion custom engraved on the case back. She never understood how he was this loaded; Sasori never seemed to leave the house outside of attending classes and showed little interest in selling his artwork. Still, she was not about to complain about financial security while they had tuition bills to foot…or being gifted nice, shiny things. “Which passed 7 minutes ago. You. Hate. Waiting. Why haven’t we left yet?”
‘Why haven’t you learned how to properly button a coat yet?’ Sasori hummed but said nothing. He’d also taken at least half that time to appreciate the view of her… costume. Nimble fingers leisurely undid the buttons of the lightweight fall jacket. One side had been fastened higher than the other and she’d missed at least three holes. After he finished re-buttoning he checked her over one more time. Her little nurse’s hat was hardly fitting for the cooler weather but knew she’d kick up a fuss if he suggested something more suitable.
Reaching for her hand, he laced their fingers together like two missing puzzle pieces. Their nails were painted in a matching shade of smoky turquoise green. The only word he could think to simply but accurately describe the feeling that welled up was whole. “There. Let’s go.”
Sakura looked around as she waited for him to lock up. Plain white pumps clicked against the wooden planks as she hopped in place to keep warm. Orange and yellow lights were speckled everywhere she could see and she could feel the din of firecrackers in the distance all the way to her chest. To her it was something magical.
None of this existed in Sasori’s peripheral. Instead amber eyes were once again drawn to her costume. Or what he could see with the jacket on. He remembered the costume in vivid detail. How it skimmed over every curve and clung to her thighs, tailored above the knee. The motif wasn’t lost on him, he was aware of the characteristics of a “sexy nurse” costume. It had already been a sublime treat for the eyes, however this one was even more tantalizing to his tastes. What was once a white dress with a low swooping neckline had been made to look filthy with different shades of brown. She hadn't altered her skin's natural pigment, but had painted red slashes over her arms and legs. The femoral veins were also highlighted in a chalky blue, making her look more gaunt. As an artist who favored more macabre styles, he greatly appreciated the aesthetic. Her eyelids had been dusted with a muted lilac and a bright crimson square was painted around her mouth up to the tip of her nose. A thumb pressed into her cheek, dragging lightly across her bottom lip as not to smudge. “Which of your games did you say this was from?”
“Silent Hill,” She had contemplated for days over which monster nurse design but ended up tucking the vinyl mask away. The symbolism of an insane shrieking woman was far more fitting. ‘Hey, at least I’m self-aware.’
There was some scuffling to her left and turned to see a young girl around 9 or 10 digging through the cardboard box Sakura had forgotten. 'Good luck, hun.' She thought with only some sympathy. The kid should have got there earlier, that box was only full of discarded wrappers. As the little girl shifted her red lined cloak moved enough to reveal a pillowcase almost half full of treats. 'Is she even able to lift that?' Kids often times used decorative plastic buckets or cheaply made bags with cutesy designs. The more hardcore kids intending to come home with a massive haul toted pillowcases. She would know, she'd been one of them.
As Sakura was considering taking pity on the kid and going into her own stash of full-size candy bars she noted the bright yellow box sticking outside the pillowcase. ‘Mallomars… marshmallow, graham cracker and a shell of decadent dark chocolate... they’re so good.’ She loved them, almost as much as popping candy or caramel apples. Nowadays they’re considered a seasonal candy, only sold during the cold months of the year and they weren’t available locally. She wondered how the kid even got ahold of one. ‘This neighborhood is full of oppressors to my free will but at least one of them has excellent taste.’
The box was teetering on the edge, it would likely fall at some point and the poor box of delicious candy would probably end up crushed by some ignorant passerby. She wouldn't even have to reach that far, the bag was only a scant few inches away. The miniature vampire would be none the wiser, she was already weighed down enough so really, Sakura was doing her a favor. Mind made up, she crept closer like a ghost and carefully stretched out her gloved fingers. Sasori wasn't looking she was sure, he was too busy sanitizing the handrail after the kids had their hands all over it.
Thumb and index finger pinched the box and with a flick of her wrist, it fell soundlessly into her hand and was slipped into the inner pocket of her coat.
Sakura tucked herself against the wall as the girl left with a disappointed huff, completely oblivious to the fact she'd been robbed.
It was around that time she realized the space behind her was not only eerily quiet, but preoccupied.
Apparently she hadn't been as stealthy as she thought. Then again maybe it wasn't a mark against her skills. Sasori seemed capable of sneaking up on anyone. 'I should have known, walls aren't normally this fleshy and warm, nor do they practice synchronized breathing with you.' They also don't smell this nice. Sakura froze as a hand slid down her arm and slowly wrapped around her wrist. The same wrist that was holding the salvaged box of candy. She went to slide it deeper into her pocket but the hand didn't budge. She gulped. "Um..."
"Sakura... did you pilfer this box of candy from that brat?" There was nothing wrong with his eyes, nor was he questioning what he saw. Sasori just wanted to hear her say it.
'Much like those pumpkin spice cookies, nothing I do escapes his attention. This time I won't go down without a fight!' Sakura squared her shoulders, turning her head enough to look her demon in the eye. He was staring back at her with a sort of wide-eyed fascination. Unfortunately, it was a look she recognized. He'd worn it often when she did something he found unexpected.
She blinked. He didn't.
Prying her hand away from his she clutched the box to her chest. "No, I rescued it. You saw. It was dangling half out of her bag. I doubt she would've even made it off the property before it fell. If it was really so important she should've taken better care of it!" It was perfectly sound and sensible to her. There was no sense in perfectly good sweets going to waste.
"Oh?" Sasori smirked, thankfully his eyes had returned to normal. "Because I'm very sure had her precious candy hit the ground she would've noticed." The kid had barely grazed four feet off the ground if he were to estimate and her hearing was probably adequate given her age. He didn't care about the child or her stolen goods. He just wanted to needle Sakura enough to see how she'd logic her way out of it.
Sakura on the other hand, decided not to rise to the obvious bait and instead checked her watch. "Anyway, we should get going. We're late enough as it is. And just because I like you we won’t stay long," She decided to compromise. As irritating as he was, she had to give him credit for agreeing to go at all. However, it wasn't like the party was being hosted by one of her friends, which seemed to escape Sasori altogether. Sakura liked Deidara, except when he annoyed the crap out of her. ‘If he asks me to break just one more thing so he can call it art, then pow.’ She didn’t even need her fists. The steel pipe she was carrying was in theory just for show, but it wasn't a prop. ‘I’ll turn him into art... although he’d probably like that,’ she thought with a grimace.
"I have midterms to study for, and my first essay is due in a week," she added.
"Certainly that should be no problem for you," A mischievous glint darkened the pigment of his irises. "Just like taking candy from a baby."
Sakura immediately pushed his hands off and stepped away, covering her face with her hands. Her stomach flipped as feelings of shame bubbled to the surface, but not guilt. No, never guilt. She had nothing to feel guilty about and had been perfectly justified. He was just being his usual insufferable self. “No, no, no, no no no no no no.” She changed her mind. It didn’t matter how much she loved him; he was the worst.
Sasori allowed her little meltdown, content as a well-fed kitten as she changed from hiding in her hands to burying her shame into his shoulder. As expected, keeping her engrossed in their... discussion had diverted her from wanting to go to the party at all. Placing his hands on her shoulders he-- subtly-- guided her back towards the entryway.
“You know what? I did nothing wrong.” Sakura’s arguments began anew and Sasori seized the distraction to peel off her jacket and get another look at her grotesque costume. Right now he was more interested in finding out just how far up she’d shaded in those veins. “If anything, I did that kid a favor. Her parents should be especially grateful.”
Fingers trailed feather light up her chin, cupping a cheek. Completely against her will, she leaned into the touch. “What's one less candy? Do you have any idea how much parents spend on oral hygiene per year? Hundreds. Of. Dollars. In ONE year. Can you believe that? And that’s if they don’t have any need for braces or any complications. So, I’ve decided next year, I'm handing out miniature tubes of toothpaste and I dare any of those kids to say anything. I too am very adept at using eggs and toilet paper for nonconventional uses!"
Sasori pressed a kiss, meaningfully, to the corner of her crimson painted mouth.
“I look forward to it.”