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He woke up in the night. Often.
When she was a child, it was something she vaguely had a memory of. The team camped in the open woods, with their sleeping bags next to one another after tiresome missions. They fell asleep to the view of the night sky above them and to the sound of silly conversations. Even Sasuke was able to behave like a child back then, at times, when he forgot to guard himself.
It was good. It was easy. Those were some of her fondest memories.
She also remembered waking up to an empty spot to her side at random occasions during those nights. She would meet Kakashi’s eyes where he sat on a tree branch during his watch, his expression betraying nothing.
The first time she noticed her teammate’s absence, she asked with foggy eyes, half-asleep, “Is Sasuke-kun okay?”
Her sensei replied, “He went for a walk.”
His words and the calmness in his voice provided her the security she needed to fall back asleep. She was not mature enough to read between the lines, nor cynical enough to doubt the intentions of an adult she trusted.
It was only much later in life, when she properly reflected on those seemingly insignificant events, that she realised she never once asked where Sasuke was. She only ever asked if he was okay, but Kakashi deflected, taking advantage of her lack of awareness, intentionally or not. He was the one who understood Sasuke the most, but even more importantly, he was always one to keep Sasuke’s secrets.
When Sasuke returned from his two-year-long journey of atonement, the adjustment period was daunting. She was patient, and understanding, giving him the space he needed to settle back into the home he did not see as home.
Their relationship started slowly, tentatively, and unbeknownst to her. Sasuke tended to forget that, while she undoubtedly knew him, her insecurity about her place in his life created a blind spot stronger than his obvious romantic gestures.
He had always been proper and mindful regarding their closeness, both in public and in private. It took some time for him to ease into her space, to feel comfortable with her, next to her. She knew that he was not uncomfortable with her presence, nor her touch, but he found comfort in their slow pacing so as to not overwhelm either of them with the change in their dynamic.
Sakura did not mind waiting. She had loved him longer than anyone ever had in his life, and while that might have meant something positive in a different life, in this one, it was a tragic reminder that he had lost everyone who could have loved him longer.
Throughout a couple of months of dating, he progressively stayed longer and longer in her apartment. When his presence overstayed his welcome, he made sure to leave, albeit hesitantly. She would shyly propose for him to sleep over with weak excuses about bad weather or his state of tiredness, when both knew it was because she just wanted him to. He would politely decline with weak excuses of early missions or her state of tiredness, when they both knew he wanted to.
Eventually, he crossed that line of intimacy, and lay in bed next to her for the night.
He did not sleep anywhere else ever since.
The first time they, the nightmares, appeared weeks into their sleeping arrangement, she woke up to his screams and erratic movements, scaring her in the process. She was so unprepared given her lack of experience with his sleeping patterns and the general late night confusion that she reacted in a way that she now knew was too much for him to accept. She comforted him like a child, or a wounded animal. He recoiled immediately and left the apartment.
She did not see Sasuke for two days.
She had the suspicion that, until that point, he had not allowed himself to fall asleep deeply by her side.
He came back with an apology, shaky hands and truths about a massacre that forced her to vomit in her kitchen sink.
She understood then.
She understood everything, and apologised back while fighting and failing to hold back tears, although he assured her she hadn’t done anything wrong.
After this, he asked her for more patience and understanding than she had already been giving him. She would have given him anything he asked, even before he opened up about the traumatic events that no man could ever survive. As a seven year old, Sasuke was forced to carry lifetimes worth of pain on his shoulders. The ghosts of the lives that were taken from him. The life that he took. He was tired.
The nightmares did not always manifest in the same way physically. Oftentimes, it was the chaotic thrashing that would lead to an equally aggressive wake up, where he would sit upright with pants and beads of perspiration sliding down his forehead. Sometimes, it was quiet whimpers and the furrowing of brows. Other times, she would wake up to him staring blankly into the ceiling.
What remained constant was the fact that she woke up every time he did.
She never said it’s okay, because it wasn’t. Not for him. She never said you’re okay, because maybe he would never be. She could only hope that he found some peace, and would stay by his side whether he did or not. Especially, especially if he did not.
Tonight, he opened his eyes with shortness of breath and quick blinks of his Sharingan. She woke up before he had shown any signs of distress, ready, waiting.
Placing his head gently in her lap, she caressed his hair until he fell asleep. He slept soundly well after the sun made its appearance. She never once stopped stroking his inky locks, tracing the outline of his face, watching his chest expand with each breath.
She only ever said I am here, because that was the one thing that would never change.