Chapter Text
It's hard to admit when you have fallen in love with someone who can't be yours.
To say she found Haruno Sakutarō annoying would be an understatement.
She should be training, honing her skills. Instead, she was here, pretending life could be simple, pretending she could afford the luxury of moments like these. Her eyes drift to Sakutarō, who had been the one to insist on this ridiculous outing, granted it was Naruko’s idea first but her rival was far easier to say no to than their pink haired teammate. Frustration burns in her heart as she sits apart from them, watching the gentle waves roll in and out as if mocking her restlessness. How could they not see it? How could any of them not see that they were squandering time they couldn't afford to lose?
Every moment here feels like a betrayal, another second stolen from the vengeance she owes her family. But here she is, and it is all Sakutarō's fault, she thinks bitterly, as she turns away from the sea, her jaw set in a line of quiet, simmering rage.
Sakutarō watches Sasuko from a distance, his brows furrowing as he takes in the way she sits, alone and rigid, on the edge of the group. Her dark eyes are fixed on the horizon, her expression as unreadable as ever, but he can sense the frustration radiating off her like heat from one of her clan’s fire style jutsus. He sighs, pushing a stray lock of pink hair from his face. He didn’t want to do this, to disturb her brooding, but he was tired of pretending not to notice how tense she’d been all day. Someone had to reach out, even if it meant getting a cold shoulder in return. With a deep breath, he makes his way over to her, his footsteps sinking into the warm sand.
“Hey, Sasuko-chan,” he begins, trying for a light tone despite the knot forming in his stomach. “Are you going to spend the whole day over here scowling, or—”
“Go away, Sakutarō,” she cuts him off, her voice flat and unyielding. Her gaze didn't shift, still staring out at the waves as if they might offer some escape from everything she felt trapped by. The words came out sharper than she intended, but she couldn’t help it. The sun was too bright, the laughter too loud, everything felt too… overstimulating.
Sakutarō’s smile falters for a moment, and a flash of irritation crosses his face. Maybe I should have had Naruko ask her ?
“Sorry…I wasn’t trying to bother you, I just- nevermind.,” he replies, turning around so he can take the walk of shame.
Sasuko glances at him then, catching the hint of hurt in his tone, and a flicker of regret moves through her. He didn’t deserve this—her anger, her impatience. None of them did. Her eyes soften, if only slightly, a blink and you miss it kind of moment. “Get back here. Don’t just leave without bothering to tell me what you were going to ask.,” she mutters.
Sakutarō blinks, momentarily thrown off by the change in her tone. “Seriously?” he asks, his hands dropping to his sides, half in disbelief, half amused. "What happened to 'go away'?"
There he goes again flashing her that smug smile of his to show that he’s just teasing her, a smile she wishes she got to see more of. Sasuko may find Sakutarō annoying as a whole but she found the side of him that followed her around like a puppy dog to be the worst offender. He was intelligent, confident, and a little quick-witted when he wanted to be but all of those traits vanish when he’s around her. It’s like Sakutarō’s brain shuts down. Sasuko just doesn’t understand it, perhaps it’s one of those useless things about boys she’ll never understand.
Sasuko huffs, hands on her hips as she stands up. “Out with it already.”
“Well, I was just going to ask if you wanted anything to eat. I’m doing a food run for everyone real quick.”, Sakutarō brushes the sand off of his red swim trunks.
Is everything he owns red ? , she’s left to ponder that question in her own mind.
Sasuko’s lips tighten into a thin line. “I don’t want anything.,” she mutters, but then, almost immediately, she adds, “But I’ll help you carry the food.”
“You don’t have to do it, I can carry it all by myself.”, Sakutarō puts both his hands behind his back as he shifts his weight around.
"I’m not letting you do it alone," she says simply, avoiding his gaze. Sakutarō was painstakingly vibrant, his eyes especially and she didn’t like staring into them for too long. “You shouldn’t be doing it at all. They can get their own food. You’re always running around, doing things for everyone else. You’re letting them walk all over you, stand your ground already.”
Sakutarō huffs, his arms crossing over his chest. “And you’re always in such a hurry to push everyone away. Lighten up a little, Sasuko.”, Sakutarō immediately regrets his choice of words and the look is evident on his face. Cha ! Oh god, I just ruined my chances of getting on her good side. Way to go, Sakutarō. , he thinks sarcastically as he mentally prepares for the worst.
Sasuko couldn’t suppress a small, grudging smile. “Maybe. But you’re still too soft on them and someone has to tell you that.”
Sakutarō mouth opens and closes like a fish before he finds his voice. “And that someone is you ?”
Sasuko shrugs her shoulders,the small smile not leaving her face yet., “Hn. Maybe.”
“Yeah, yeah. Come on, then. If you're so determined to help, make yourself useful.” he turns back towards the snack shack, his steps brisk, and Sasuko follows, feeling the tension ease just a little.
He puts her at ease in a way she’s not familiar with, it frightens her. The way she’s growing a little attached to him frightens her.
The memory claws its way back into Sasuko’s mind like an unwanted intruder—the image of Sakutarō crumpled on the ground, bloodied and bruised, eyes filled with a quiet determination. In that moment, she had felt something snap inside of her—a fury so intense it blurred the edges of reason. She had barely recognized her own voice, low and cold, as she questioned who hurt him, her body overflowing with unimaginable power that compelled her to unleash hell on whoever did it. But then, Sakutarō looked up, his voice weak but steady, telling her to stop, his hand reaching out to touch Sasuko's arm like an anchor. That touch had sent a jolt through Sasuko, and suddenly the rage had slowly buried itself deep in the recesses of her heart once more.
Rage has turned to fear —- she’s scared of how much she’s grown to care for team seven. Initially, she thought she got paired with the worst teammates possible as if the universe wanted her to suffer. It feels like too much of a coincidence she gets paired with the worst student in her class and one of her fanboys. Somehow they’ve grown on her, they’ve started to feel like family.
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Sasuko blinks, realizing she has been staring blankly at the counter, the peddler waiting with an expectant look. Sakutarō rattled off the list, repeating each order in a low, steady voice. Her thoughts still lingered in the forest, on Sakutarō’s bruised face, until a hand waved in front of her, snapping her back to the present.
“Sasuko,” Sakutarō's voice came, exasperated but with a hint of concern, “Are you sure you don’t want something too ?”
Sasuko glances over, her brow furrowed, about to say she didn't want anything. Before she could answer, her eyes caught sight of someone walking by with a vibrant, jewel-toned shaved ice, the syrup glistening in the sun. For a moment, it looked… tempting, refreshing against the heat. She hesitates, then mutters, "I’ll try that."
Sakutarō’s lips curl into a smile, surprised and amused. “One shaved ice, please.” and with that they pay for the food before heading back to the group, Sakutarō juggling a stack of treats while Sasuko balances the icy dessert in her hand.
As soon as she takes her first bite, a sharp, cold pain stabs into her forehead, and she grimaces, her face twisting in surprise and discomfort. "Ow," she mutters, pressing a hand to her temple, trying to will away the brain freeze that grips her skull like a vice.
Sasuko glares at him, stubbornly taking another spoonful, despite the cold still throbbing in her head. “No,” she insists because she’ll be damned if she lets someone waste money on her. “I’ll finish it. It's… fine. I didn’t think it’d be this sweet, that’s all.” But Sakutarō can see the corners of Sasuko’s mouth twitching downward, betraying her discomfort.
“Sure, sure,” Sakutarō chuckles, handing over the rest of the food to the others, enjoying the rare sight of Sasuko’s pride warring with her obvious distaste for the too-sweet, painfully cold treat. It was cute in a way. “I swear it won’t hurt me if you don’t finish it.”
That ended up being true because Sasuko ended up giving the offensive cold treat to the Akimichi girl in the end.
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The sun has begun its slow descent, staining the sky with shades of gold, pink, and deep orange, the light stretching out across the water in shimmering paths. Everyone has gathered on the shore to watch, the laughter and chaos of the day settling into a calm, contented quiet. Inochi and Sakutarō are still full of energy, playfully roughhousing near the water’s edge, shoving each other with lighthearted grins, their voices rising in teasing shouts and bursts of laughter.
Sasuko stands a little apart from everyone else, her arms crossed over her chest, her eyes fixed on the horizon, the waves rolling gently at her feet. Beside her, Naruko nudges her shoulder, a playful grin on her face. “Admit it, Sasuko,” she teases, tilting her head to look up at her, “My idea for a beach day wasn’t so bad after all, huh?”
Sasuko didn’t answer, her expression cool and guarded as always. She kept her gaze on the sunset, but there was a small, almost imperceptible softness in her eyes, a flicker of something lighter than her usual stoic demeanor. Naruko laughs, her own grin widening. “I can see it, you know,” she continues, leaning in closer, “You enjoyed yourself, you’re just too much of a grouch to admit it.”
Sasuko’s lips twitch ever so slightly, but she refuses to give Naruko the satisfaction of a real answer. Instead, she lets out a quiet breath, the corners of her mouth curling just barely as she watches the sun dip lower, the light dancing across the waves. Maybe she has enjoyed herself, just a little—a feeling she wasn't quite ready to admit, even to herself. But as Sakutarō and Inosuke’s laughter fill the air, mingling with the gentle roar of the ocean, she feels a strange, unfamiliar sense of peace settle over her, and for once, she lets herself enjoy the moment without needing a reason why.
But as the sun continues its descent and the sky deepens into richer hues of purple and red, a familiar weight begins to creep back into Sasuko's chest. The feeling is like an old wound aching in the cold, a reminder of everything she has lost, of what had been taken from her. Her family’s faces flashed in her mind—the ones she has tried so hard not to think about today. The quiet evening, the sense of calm, it all felt… wrong. Unfitting. Peaceful days like this, moments of laughter and sunsets on the beach, they couldn’t be a part of her life. Not with the ghost of her clan haunting her every step, with the memory of betrayal gnawing at her heart. She has made a promise—to herself, to her family’s memory. Her priorities lay elsewhere. She couldn't afford to forget that.
Her expression darkens, her jaw tightening. The lightness she has felt only moments ago is already fading, replaced by the cold resolve that keeps her moving forward. Naruko is still beside her, too close for comfort, her smile unbothered as if she couldn’t sense the shift in the air. “Seriously, Naruko,” Sasuko mutters, her voice sharper than intended, “Stop standing so close to me, you smell like instant ramen and it’s giving me a headache.”
Naruko’s smile vanishes, her brows knitting together in annoyance. “Oh, come on, Sasuko,” she snaps back, stepping even closer just to prove a point. “What’s your problem? We were just getting along !”
Sasuko's eyes narrow, her stance shifting almost imperceptibly, readying herself, the tension crackling between them like electricity. "You’re in my space, that’s all.," she replies, her voice low and controlled, but there was an edge there, a warning.
Before things can escalate further, Sakutarō darts over, quickly stepping between them, his hands raised in a placating gesture. “Hey, hey, both of you, cut it out,” he says, his tone firm but light, trying to diffuse the brewing storm. “We’re supposed to be having fun, remember?”
Naruko huffs, rolling her eyes but backing down a step. “Tell that to Miss Dark and Brooding over here,” she mutters, folding her arms.
Sasuko’s jaw tightens, but she says nothing, her eyes flicking to the horizon again, the anger simmering just beneath her skin. She can feel the remnants of that fleeting peace slipping away entirely, replaced by the familiar burn of frustration, of grief, of the endless, gnawing need for something more—something that didn’t belong on a beach at sunset.
Sakutarō notices it immediately—the way Sasuko's shoulders tensed, her expression darkening like a cloud passing over the sun. The shift is subtle but unmistakable, the light in Sasuko's eyes dimming, replaced by a familiar shadow. Without thinking, Sakutarō reaches out, his fingers wrapping around Sasuko’s hand, firm but gentle, pulling her forward. “Come on,” he urges, his voice light with a smile, “Let’s go.”
Sasuko’s eyes widened, caught off guard, but she allows herself to be led just this once, the two of them breaking into a run across the sand. Naruko calls after them, confusion and curiosity coloring her voice. “Hey! Where are you two going?”
Kibana snickers, lounging back in the sand with Akamaru and Shiho. “Maybe they’re off to share a kiss,” she teases, her grin wide.
“Yeah, right,” Naruko mutters, crossing her arms over her chest. “That’s never going to happen.”
She spots Hinata walking behind Kibana and runs off to ask what he’s up to.
Meanwhile, Sakutarō leads Sasuko farther down the beach, away from the others, until their laughter and voices fade into the distance. He slows his pace, the sand shifting beneath his feet as he finally drops into a steady walk. It takes a moment for Sasuko to realize that they were still holding hands, and when she did, her eyes flicked down to where their fingers are intertwined. She snatches her hand away as if burned, her face flushing a faint pink. She turns her head slightly, trying to hide the heat rising in her cheeks.
What the hell ? What’s this feeling ?, Sasuko wonders to herself, making a mental note to add this to one of the many reasons Haruno Sakutarō is a menace.
Sakutarō raises an eyebrow, confused but amused. “What’s wrong?” he asks, taking a step closer, his face leaning in a little too close. “You’ve been weird ever since—”
Sasuko takes a step back, a frown pulling at her lips, still feeling the ghost of Sakutarō’s touch on her hand. “Nothing’s wrong,” she mutters, her voice curt, but she can’t stop the way her heart seems to quicken in her chest. “I just… don’t need you dragging me around, I can walk just fine.”
Sakutarō's grin widens, his jade green eyes sparkling with mischief. “Oh, is that all?” he teases, taking another step closer, clearly not respecting the distance Sasuko tries to put between them. “You looked like you were about to punch someone back there. Just thought I’d save everyone the trouble.”
Sasuko rolls her eyes, but her lips twitch, a flicker of a smile threatening to break through despite herself. “You’re annoying,” she grumbles, but there was no real bite to her words, only the faintest hint of something warmer beneath the surface.
“I know, you’ve told me before but…”, he starts as he lets his fingers brush against hers. “If it keeps you like this then I’ll be as annoying as possible.”
Sasuko’s eyes narrow slightly, her tone steady but carrying a weight of warning. “Just—don’t say anything that sounds like you’re trying to make this moment into something more than it is,” she says, her voice firm yet quiet. There will never be anything more between them.
Sakutarō, momentarily taken aback, raises his hands in mock surrender, his grin fading as he nods his head. “Okay, okay. I won’t.”
They stand in silence for a while, the night sky stretching out above them, a canvas of deep blues and scattered stars. Sakutarō looks up, his gaze following the constellations, while Sasuko's thoughts turn inward, a somber reflection of her own.
The night feels serene in its own way and Sasuko wishes with all her heart that things could remain like this, just for a while longer. The serenity was a fleeting illusion, a brief escape from the relentless weight of reality. Her older brother loomed like a dark cloud on the horizon, a threat that overshadows everything she cares about. The peace she feels now is fragile, a mere respite from the storm that was always on the edge of breaking.
The truth is, all she has ever wanted is power—strength to face her enemies, to avenge her family, to carve out a path in a world that has been so brutally unfair. The idea of this simpler, softer side of life, the one Sakutarō seems to offer so effortlessly, is tempting but foreign. It hurts, deep down, to reject it, to push away the warmth and connection that seems so natural. Yet, she knows that embracing this side of herself will mean losing sight of her true purpose. Her body is not her own, it exists only to be a weapon to execute vengeance.
Sasuko closes her eyes briefly, feeling the pang of the choice she has to make. It is a choice between the path she has chosen and the one that Sakutarō and the others seem to offer—a path of simplicity and warmth that, despite its appeal, felt like it could never truly be hers. She wishes she could hold onto this moment, let it be a reality rather than a fleeting dream, but she knows better.
She is standing beside Sakutarō, the two of them bathed in the soft glow of the sunset, the warmth of the moment almost palpable. Sasuko finds herself on the verge of saying something—she can’t recall what it is she wanted to desperately tell him back then.
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Sasuko’s heart races as she begins to open her eyes, the darkness of the dreamworld giving way to the dim, oppressive gloom of Orochimaru’s hideout. She blinks, disoriented, the remnants of the dream still clinging to her thoughts. The dream had felt so real, so vivid—standing beside Sakutarō, looking up at the night sky, and for a moment, she had almost dared to hope for something different, something softer. The image of Sakutarō’s face, his gentle smile, is like a lingering ghost.
With a slow, deliberate effort, Sasuko pushes herself up from the thin mattress she called a bed, shaking off the confusion. The hideout’s walls loom around her, their dark, jagged contours a stark reminder of her grim reality. She needs to clear her mind, to cast off the lingering feelings from the dream that had dared to unsettle her.
Moving with practiced precision, she settles into a meditative posture in the center of the room, her eyes closing as she focuses on her breathing. Each inhale is a push to clear the fog of the faint memory that entered her dreams, each exhale a release of the emotions that had surfaced. Her mind races with a hundred thoughts, memories of her former teammates, her mission, her training, but she forces herself to focus, to center her thoughts on the here and now.
The dream had been nothing more than a fleeting fantasy, a whisper of what could never be. The warmth and connection she had felt, the tenderness of that moment with Sakutarō—it is an illusion, a distraction from the path she is committed to. She chastises herself, her internal voice sharp and unforgiving. You can't afford to think about such things. You have a purpose. You have a mission. Don’t let yourself be swayed by these distractions.
As the last vestiges of the dream fade from her mind, Sasuko stands up, her resolve hardening. She has no room for such distractions, not now, not ever. She will face her training with renewed determination, shutting out the allure of what could never be, and moving forward with the single-minded purpose that has guided her all along.