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It was a clandestine delight, a whisper meant for lips grazing, like a note, half-folded, evading prying eyes and letting them know it was consigned to flames.
But Sasuke had ventured in, unbeknownst to himself, bewitched, guided by the sweet scent of innocence and scandalous ecstasy. He couldn’t tell when or how it began, or what it entailed—whether it had been him initiating it, or an endeavor on her part. But, from a moment unknown, there had begun an exchange so arcane, rooted in his need and hers, an exchange for only their hearts to know. And it excited Sasuke, made electricity course through his body, every inch of his skin as if dormant embers yearning to blaze to life by her longing, to revel in the knowledge that he and Sakura had gone from classmates, who barely conversed, to classmates, who barely conversed and conveyed so, so much more. And that no one else knew of it.
At 14, adolescence had bared its teeth in expected and yet uncharted territories of his being. And he hardly had any knowledge of Sakura, which might have added to the allure of whatever had conspired between them, inconsequential though it may have seemed to an adult. For there was a pull, the thread connecting them taut, to bridge the chasm of years stretched between them where all that had passed in their midst were glances lingering a moment beyond acceptable. They were strangers then.
They were strangers still.
But they had especially been so since summer had risen in full allure a few months back. Sasuke had let the blooming cherry blossoms faze his heart a little too much, and spring had imprinted on him in ways he couldn’t turn back. Perhaps for that reason, summer had felt so bleak, even in the symphonies of cicadas and days spent soaking in rather warm waters. For that very reason, perhaps, it had felt like a palette of colors washing over his monochrome vision when he laid eyes on Sakura, or rather, she laid eyes on him.
Time had been on standstill and yet his heart distilled into a single breath every unspoken sentiment she wished to convey the first time she accidentally let her handkerchief fall, the first time he gently picked it up, and the first time their skins savored the texture of each other.
Just a handkerchief, but Sasuke had been more of an acquaintance to the feel of her fingers skimming over his hand, in a manner subtle enough for all eyes but his, than the cotton of the cloth his slackened fingers, cold and numb, had a wavering grip on. Sasuke might almost have been a stranger to mischief before he had gazed into Sakura’s eyes—emerald pools flaked with gold, so rich they subdued even the rain-soaked greenery.
Sleep eluded him for nights on end, for when the wind whispering through his window seemed to carry her scent, when he could almost conjure the moon’s ethereal glory magnified in the reflection in her eyes, when the phantoms of her silhouettes would cast his skin into feverish sweat and tune him into loud echoes of his own heartbeat.
For days, he would feel a ghost of her touch on his hand, grappling with both the embarrassment of his lack of control over his overflowing feelings and the bewilderment on the phenomena she sparked to life with just a skim of her fingers on his skin. It was a pencil that followed.
It tumbled to him from two seats back in the row next to his. An apologetic smile and a soft scrape of a chair against the floor—Sasuke had tried to think of it as nothing more. But when he looked up, her pencil in his hand, his eyes locked with hers, her gaze piercing his soul and his body melting into the crevasses of hers, her smile no longer apologetic but much more. Much worse.
Sasuke found himself hypnotized, adrift amidst the symphony of senses, lips unconsciously parting as his eyes traced the delicate bridge of her nose and the slope of her cheeks, everywhere around her eyes. A frantic rush of blood filled his ears with a feverish thrumming, a daze broken only by the all too familiar feel of her fingers on his.
“Thank you.”
But Sasuke wasn’t too sure it was the pencil she was thankful for. Humiliation wreathed around him and consumed his entire being, the imagery of her savoring his submission imprinted behind closed eyes. Sakura must have been ecstatic, relishing the sweet taste of rendering him at her will, oblivious that the fire she had ignited had long reached the corners she’d never dared explore, for Sasuke was equally thrilled. It was revenge that followed.
He remembered the day like a tape worn out of use, but what he remembered the most was the sweltering heat raining down on them, bending the air itself. And her. Amidst loud calls in squeaky boyish voices breaking apart with the onset of puberty, the field sodden in the aftermath of an unexpected monsoon sojourn, his eyes had been chasing not so much the soccer ball but a vision he could almost see to fruition. Victory and Control. Check and Mate. His feet kicked up the mud as he ran, breathless, sweat pouring down the back of his knees, making his drenched uniform cling to his back. Not too much force, he thought, unintentionally kicking the ball a little too much to his right.
“You idiot!” Naruto groaned, but he was irrelevant. Sasuke watched it roll in the periphery of his vision, satisfaction coursing through every inch of his skin, until it stopped right in front of his goal.
Check.
“Now you go get it.”
That was exactly what he intended to do. Sasuke jogged along his path, anticipation ringing in his ear as if the pulsation of his heart, cheek hurting from forcing his lips in a straight line not long before his steps slowed, finally coming to a stop.
Sakura stood up, ball in one hand, the other sweeping her skirt into place, before she tiptoed towards him. Sasuke waited, his breath baited, for the moment he had envisioned in his mind with the dexterity of a painter, each detail meticulously curated, every dot in place with an objective. He could breathe in the floral fragrance that would always follow her suit in their minimal number of encounters, how sunlight softened into her green eyes with the elegance of muslin and how he had introduced to them something new. Confusion. Embarrassment. A magic all his doing.
“Here you go,” she said, her voice laced with the hesitation of a cat as she stretched her hands out.
With a slight curve of his lips, he slid his hands below the ball, gently grazing hers, intimate enough for only her to know, emphatic enough for her to flinch, for the pale white of her skin to reflect the blush of her hair, for her eyes to lower and falter into submission.
“Thank you.” He repaid it back to her with interest.
Mate.
Sasuke had, for the first time, truly tasted victory. And maybe it had done him no good to get addicted.
Or maybe it had done him good.
For not to Sasuke’s disappointment, their unannounced game had continued. He might not know what they were playing, but now he was familiar with the rules. The one who lets the secret out loses. It was unlike anything Sasuke had ever traversed before. They would pass each other in the hallways, fingers brushing each other and fire searing their bodies. Neither looked back, but they took pleasure in knowing it was only the other who knew. It was better than any secret rendezvous he had seen in movies. She would leave a message only he could decrypt, in forgotten ribbons and fallen stationary, in the milliseconds their pinky fingers would coil around each other when the world was too busy to notice the unnoticed, when idle gossips and morning rushes riveted the surrounding people, soaking them into a haze where the only thing concrete were each other and their bond. A bond made of secrecy and mischief. A bond too innocent and yet too sensual, rooted in a desperation they had been far too gone to put a name to.
And Sakura wasn’t the only one cornering the win. Sasuke would leave his own traces, fingers sifting through her hair as he passed her seat, catching her gaze and holding it until she had no choice but to turn away, her movement more fidgety than moments before. There was nothing that could be evidence, nothing physical that could define what their exchanges could suggest, no notes, no gifts, nothing imprinted on them except touches that were always too few to fulfill their needs and gazes that always leave too much to be desired.
They were children, filling vessels and enjoying them grow full, with not a clue of where they should stop, not expecting it to overflow when it did. One odd day, too hot for winter and too cold for fall.
“To the lab,” sensei had said, his pale skin and long hair giving him an appearance of a ghost.
Sasuke couldn’t care less about chemistry, or he couldn’t until he was assigned his partner for the experiment.
“Pair up in the order of your first names.”
Breath caught in his throat, like a prey stuck to a spider’s web, he moved to look towards Sakura who had already matched him, an unreadable expression defining her soft features.
Vuja de.
They were unprecedented conditions, not defined by any of the rules of their games. Never had he been in Sakura’s vicinity for more than a minute; a minute which seemed to have been centuries and a blink of an eye at the same time. But there he was, before an audience of 26 people and a teacher, standing by her side, arms like similar poles of a magnet, so close and equally far. His heart was everywhere except his chest and he could only wish for Naruto to do something stupid and gain attention if it could submerge the thud echoing inside him.
How could her existence alone be so stimulating? Sakura was just another ordinary girl and yet merely standing beside her made Sasuke feel like a glass heated, immiscible yet fragile enough to burst into pieces. Every single hair on his body was a sensor attuned to her presence. Sasuke tried not to overthink, steadying his breathing to a practiced pace, not wanting to look any more than necessary to his right. She was right there. The realization could only fan the flames.
Surely, Sakura should have been perceptive enough to discern that whatever was between them had solidified into something they could not hide behind gossamer curtains of flimsy excuses. If only it would stop her from bumping her elbow into his.
“Sorry,” she said, her voice a low whisper, meant for all but him, as she did it again, with a little more force, a little more intent on it than just a brush of skin. Sasuke, afraid of getting caught and becoming a subject of scrutiny, hated losing more than anything. He raised his hand, slow fingers grazing the curve of her ear, sweeping away a lock of her hair, eyes locked on how the tip of her nose flushed and her long eyelashes trembled.
“There was something…” he lied, smug, and the impact of it would have been as pronounced as he had meant it to, if the red of his fingers hadn’t blended in with the back of her neck. Sakura nodded, dazed by their slow, lingering contact, but unwilling to back away. Sensei’s explanation droned on, but not a single word entered the peripheries of their cognizance. Her hand drifted over his textbook, gliding over his knuckles, itinerant in his body like static, her voice a carefully conducted plea, “Can I borrow your textbook?”
She had her own, and Sasuke felt bold enough to voice it, even with her fingers dancing over his, as he leaned closer. At that exact moment, Sakura twisted her neck to face him when Sasuke would have rather died than backed out. She matched her gaze to his with the audacity of a fool, a fool as far gone as he, green eyes shrouded in his reflection, as she whispered, proud, “I know.”: two simple words which left him breathless like a punch to his gut, and yet Sasuke could hardly sway his face from contorting into something rather humiliating and even more pleased.
“Get your equipment and start,” sensei said. Sasuke had to unlatch himself away from her, eyes still too stubborn to let go. Every cell in his body was tingling, every sense augmented and his heart too enraptured for his loss.
Do not get caught, his mind repeated, do not let it show.
But he was already her prisoner and her exhibit. A sculpture she had carved with seductive insolence and feigned innocence. A smile tugged at his lips and he had to bite it back just in time for sensei to cut in: “One per table.”
Sasuke came around and lowered his head to look at what was in his hands. Two trays with a pipette and 3 test tubes each. He caught Naruto shaking his head at him in the periphery of his vision. Submitting one back, Sasuke trudged back to his assigned table, with her waiting for him, the focus of his mind solely on one thing.
One pipette. Two people.
As he gathered the materials on their table, Sakura told him, “Sensei instructed one experiment per person. But we can do both if we want. Do you want to do the buret, and I do the pipette, or…?”
“Both.” The gravity of his words settled in on Sasuke, and in unison, they averted their gazes, Sakura wringing her hands behind her and Sasuke fidgeting nervously with his collar, the flush on their faces vying for intensity. Sakura gave a wordless nod, but with a small, breathy chuckle and Sasuke finally allowed himself the luxury of some air. He might even have heard her laugh for the first time.
It was a little amusing. The Sasuke at the start of the year would have had a head rush out of plain disbelief at the situation he had gotten himself into. But now? He couldn’t regret it. He liked the game they were playing, the game which had introduced him to wide-eyed wonders of youth, to juvenile secrecies and exuberant interactions. It turned his final year of middle school into something he could never have imagined—something he wasn’t sure could have been possible without Sakura.
As Sasuke set the funnel over the buret, he stole a glance at her, and wished he could take back the last minute or so of his thoughts, to erase it with acid or throw it into the sea for the waves to never talk of it again. Black eyes widened and Sasuke’s grip on the buret tightened as plump, reddish lips encircled around the mouth of the glass equipment. The imagery broke a dam Sasuke hadn’t realized he had in him, unsettling his body in ways he wasn’t used to. Sasuke was baffled, tongue-tied at not previously exploring her face below the slope of her nose, the curve of her lip that now made him swallow and sweat, and caused heat to invade him like a fever.
And suddenly, Sasuke hated their game.
He hated the rules that curbed his desires and having to show it affected him less to be around her. For, in an instant, all Sasuke wanted was to pull her to a corridor where no souls would pass, to push her against the wall and himself, to palm the smooth skin of her cheeks and brush his thumb over her soft, pouty lips. To press his own against them, gentle and rough and gentle again, to take her lower lip between his teeth and have her melt against him. To say less and do much more of the unspeakable.
Sasuke gulped again and forced his face away, breaths quick and shallow and stomach in knots, as he mindlessly set up the experiment, concentrating not on the pink of the Phenolphthalein in the beaker, but something else rather red. Would Sakura still hold his gaze, her boldness undeterred, if their noses were to brush, if he were to seize her exhale in his mouth? Would she drag her fingers along his face, on his neck, if he were to draw her closer and drink in her soughing murmurs, to rest his forehead against her as she clings onto him for more?
“I’m done,” he broke out of his reverie when she informed, “What about you, Sasuke-kun?”
Maybe it was the way his name rolled out of her lips, or her lips itself, that before she could wash the pipette for him to use, he had already stripped her hands of it, his knuckle brushing against her lip and rendering his body almost boneless, practically liquid. He couldn’t tear away her gaze while her eyes widened or mouth opened in a blissed-out stupor when he wrapped his lips around the pipette. Or maybe it was him in a stupor, for he had, yet again, let it slip out of his head that vessels could overflow.
Sasuke believed himself to be a man of few mistakes. He had his life thought out, was a diligent student, a good athlete and a more than good son. He was also an excellent brother and an okay enough friend. Perhaps he should have guessed sooner that if Sakura could bring color to his world, she could also stain him. Sakura had done unimaginable things to Sasuke, from making his heart stop and rush at her will, to causing his stomach to tickle and flutter. Sasuke should have known when he walked into her shadow that he would come out a madman.
Their game pledged secrecy and Sasuke silently marveled at his ability to not cause a scene—even when he nearly swallowed the pink alkaline solution. A diluted solution, yes, but a solution nonetheless. It was over, however, and Sasuke couldn’t have been more at peace that nobody saw him choking on sodium hydroxide, and didn’t pry too much into why he had both a buret and pipette on his side.
Heart still in a frenzy, in an attempt to leap out of his chest, Sasuke recalled his day, and a small smile imprinted itself on his face. He leaned his head back on his seat and shut his eyes close, Sakura’s light chuckle resounding inside him, his fingers still twitching from the feel of her skin and hair, the way it turned warmer the longer he let them rest against her.
“Ugh,” Naruto attempted to barf, “I can’t take it any longer.”
Sasuke groaned. Of course, it would be Naruto shattering his quaint peace.
“What’s wrong with you?” Sasuke asked.
“You are what is wrong with me. And probably a lot of other people.”
“What?” Sasuke sat up straighter and Naruto dramatically threw his hands in the air.
“You!” Naruto pointed, frustration lacing his voice, “I honestly can’t with you, and whatever you have going on with Sakura-chan. It’s disgusting!”
Sasuke flinched. Heat creeped up his neck and sweat pooled in his palms. When had they ever been obvious? Sasuke had always felt a gaping hole within, the more exchanges he had with Sakura. The more his need grew, the bigger the hole became. But he held back, lips sealed. For that was their relationship, wasn’t it? One built upon the pact of secrecy.
“There is nothing going on,” Sasuke lied, his voice edging anguish, “What are you talking about?”
“You really thought you were being slick?” Kiba joined in from the seat before his. “Don’t make me laugh!” Naruto nodded in agreement, crossing his arms.
“When have I ever—”
“Don’t you dare tell us we’ve been imagining you two accidentally dropping things around each other? Or just bumping into each other?”
“Linking fingers.” Sai chimed in calmly from behind him, a creepy smile plastered on his face.
“Exactly!”
“Sakura enters and all of a sudden, he is bad at every sport he plays,” Shikamaru complained from the row beside his.
“You tell him!”
“I…” Sasuke gulped, his ears probably tinged red. He was now surrounded. “I have no idea what you guys are—”
“You have no idea about Choji’s back pain, do you? He’s always slouching ever since we changed seats, just so you can stare at her all you want. Have you ever thought about why you were having a clear view of her?”
“I mean… I’m sleeping so I don’t really mind,” Shikamaru said as Choji, his seat partner, sheepishly smiled and rubbed his head. He had thought about it, but never really paid attention to. Sasuke supposed they were just too lazy to listen in class.
“I mean, seriously,” Naruto proceeded, “I thought, at one point, you would stop all this and just confess your love to her something.” He pouted, slant eyes narrowed even further with accusation as he animatedly used his hands to prove his point. “And the eye contact thingy? Yuck!” He barfed, again.
“I’m never sitting beside you ever again.”
“You’re misunderstanding. I don’t lo—” Sasuke hesitated, shaken up. “—love her…”
“So, were we all seeing things in the chemistry lab?” Shino provided from somewhere in the class.
“Yeah! You were making kissy faces at each other and all that.” Naruto stuck his tongue out and twisted his face in disgust.
His stomach dropped. They had witnessed it all. Everything they had wanted to let out in the open and enjoyed the exhilaration of masking, everything they were and couldn’t be, all of it. Sasuke fell silent. It was all over now. The string connecting them had too many hands on their ends, and Sasuke knew the only outcome it would lead to. It was fine. He was fine. They hadn’t put a name to their game, so he could expect letting go would be easy. Sasuke believed himself to be detached from naivety. Of course, it was only a matter of time before their push and pull came to a hold. He wasn’t disappointed.
He wasn’t grieving.
“Sakura-chan is probably being grilled by her friends for the same thing,” said Naruto, and Sasuke’s head flew back up, Choji and his seatmate slouching again so he saw her, cheeks the shade of dusk, swarmed by her friends, giggling and teasing her. His heart palpitated and stomach tangled into knots when she lifted her head and their eyes met, making Sasuke almost jump in his seat before Sakura swiftly pushed her head back down, flushed, if possible, even further. Cheers surrounded her as her friends’ teasing stares found him and he looked away immediately, not evading Naruto’s eye.
The blonde hoisted himself up in his seat, and in a loud voice, announced, “Guys, how many of you have noticed Sasuke and Sakura-chan’s weird sexual tension?”
The class erupted into chaos, cries of agreement and laughter surrounded him. Sasuke was a man of few mistakes, but one of the few had to be this mortifying! He attempted to be nonchalant, but the tickle in his gut was far too powerful to be ignored. He scolded Naruto to get down, but the mischievous boy had started enjoying this far too much.
“Isn’t it tiring?” He went on. “Seeing them act like they’re oh so slick and secretive as if they don’t always have an audience when they’re just… looking at each other in that…” he made a face, before saying, “disgustingly whipped manner?”
Sasuke whirled in his seat to take a peek at her, burying her face in her hands as the classroom broke out in roars of agreement again. Her friends laughed at her, holding their bellies, and loving this as much as his own. He would beat Naruto up later.
“Do you all believe Sasuke should man up and confess so we can finally get them to get a room?”
The class went wild, encouragement echoing all around him.
“Go ahead.”
“Get her, Sasuke!”
Sasuke clicked his tongue, fisting his palms on his knees and glaring at the floor. His throat was parched and his heart was thrumming out of his chest. The sweat on his neck sent cool shivers up and down his spine.
“Confess! Confess! Confess!” His classmates shouted in sync, having complete fun being in his business, so he lifted his head up, expecting to glare them down when he found her eyes.
Those eyes had always struck Sasuke quite mesmerizing, the large round curve of her eyes holding the most audacious, most mischievous intentions in them. They were resolute when they needed to be, and shy at his mercy. They glimmered in the sun and dimmed into a cool, oceanesque color whenever his shadows engulfed her. He had seen them up close enough times and always let a piece of him be consumed by them. He hadn’t known, however, how painfully beautiful they could look when they were expectant, the shine in them magnetic. Sasuke could pull the moon down to hang in her hair and it would still pale before her large, emerald eyes.
Sakura bit her lip and nervously looked away under his prolonged stare, which made him realize she had yet again silenced his world, making everything and everyone else fade into the background. When reality came rushing back—the excited chatter of his classmates urging him to speak words he himself didn’t fully comprehend, her blonde friend looking at him and then her, as though happiness itself awaited her within the reach of her fingertips—he was knocked out of breath.
What was love? He was clueless. Sasuke had never liked anyone, never fully grasped the meaning behind the relationship between two people who promise each other their forever. And yet, it was one of the most beautiful things to exist in this world to him. When his father wordlessly made dinners on the days his mother was tired, and fed her in bed, acting as if nobody saw him spoon-feed her behind the confines of their walls through slightly ajar doors, or when Itachi would stay up late reading letters written on tear stained papers and hide his sniffle in his sleeve, taking a week long leave from college in the name of recreational activities as if Sasuke wouldn’t know he was just visiting Izumi in her city, Sasuke had formed an image of love too pure, too profound for it to be silly touches and one upping each other.
And yet, Sasuke felt something, somewhere in his body, heard his soul screaming, felt his skin itching to read himself and recognize, that him reading her name in her mind like a poem is also love. Dreaming on and on about one stolen glance to last him the weekends is also love. His lips quivered, and a shaken exhale left him as he stood up, and almost lost the strength in his knees, but he was sure now. He wouldn’t mind the rush of secrecy losing itself in their connected fingers, wouldn’t mind losing the ecstasy of lies to the nervousness of honest confessions. Sasuke would actually prefer that, for just imagining the vision paints a smile on his face as he finds her again, waiting for him with bated breath, amongst cheers growing louder in volume, her skirt fisted and crumpled. He could tell she was as nervous as he, and it took away some of what was holding him back. “Finally. Been waiting for this,” Naruto snickered behind him and he swallowed again, ready to break their pact. To lose the game that they had started in the wake of immaturity and fear. To win what he could never have if he hadn’t been brave enough to be a coward.
“Sakura,” he called out, voice shaky but confident. “I like you.”
Sakura squeezed her eyes, teeth pressed down on her lip, like sheer joy could make her burst, causing him to be even more breathless than he already was.
“With me…” he forced a gulp, his throat dry. “Will you go out with me?”
Sakura gently stood up, one hand squeezing her other wrist in front of her chest, her eyes teary as she gave a firm nod. “Yes!” She let out squeamishly.
It ensued a chaos that might probably have landed them in trouble, with Kiba and Naruto jumping at him from behind, tackling him in hugs while Sakura’s friends clamped on her shoulders and clapped along with the rest of their classmates. That was not where his attention was, however, not when his eyes were on the smile on her face. A smile he had given her. Through honesty. His blood thundered in his ears and legs finally gave in, as he stumbled back a little, disguising it as a fall caused by his friends manhandling him.
“You’re so dramatic, believe it!”
“Settle down!” Kakashi slammed the door with the class duster, dragging his feet inside, as laid-back as he had always been, while everyone scattered back to their seats. “You guys will get me in trouble for being late.”
“Well, ’cause you are!” Naruto screamed back, before mumbling under his breath, “So much for raining down on our celebration.”
Sasuke was glad it was Kakashi’s class. He could not have endured being witnessed by someone like him in the midst of a confession. A confession that was answered back. He and Sakura were now a couple. Sasuke had to physically force himself to not bounce his feet with the pure joy that one sentence brought him. A couple. Two people in love. Sakura liked him back. He clenched his palms against his ear as if it could stop them from burning and throbbing with the blood rushing to his head, before he moved one hand over his mouth, hiding the smile he couldn’t hold back. The gray-haired teacher fished a chalk out of his pocket and starting writing the chapter name but paused, turning back towards the class.
“Uh… Sasuke, Sakura, congratulations.”
Sasuke slammed his head against his palm, a harsh sigh escaping him. He tilted his head to look at Sakura drooped on the table, burying her face in her arms.
“Hope you can stop that eye thing now. It’s extremely inappropriate for some reason.”
“You said it!” Naruto joined in.
“Everyone in the staffroom has been talking about it. Which reminds me, Orochimaru sensei was extremely irritated. Something about you two being inappropriate during lab?” The class laughed in response and Sasuke wrapped his ears again. He couldn’t bear it any longer. “I get that you’re teenagers, but please practice restraint.” With that, he went back to teaching, unbothered by the two extremely embarrassed teenagers he turned his back to.
It was still not enough to weigh down Sasuke. He was jubilant, feet shaking and heart light. Today, he would walk her back home, his hand holding hers, fingers intertwined. She would give him that one smile she gave him when he confessed, and he would squeeze her hand in response.
Sasuke had been riding his euphoria for months, chasing the kick in half-hidden truths and open lies, wearing the armor of secrecy to veil his true feelings. And now, when he was done with it, he could finally define happiness.
There would still be one secret open only to her. One theft he would still allow her.
His smile.