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Summary
A week before his twentieth birthday, Sasuke began to notice the little things. He took in the surroundings, soaked in the smell of his burnt cooking, the way the sun spilt across the floor, the uneven hum of the fridge that seemed to grow louder each moment passing by.
With a calm stillness, he wrote letters. Letters addressed to Naruto, who had filled the hole in his heart with patience and understanding, and one addressed to Sakura for her soft presence and unsolicited advice. Some pages were finished, others were abandoned halfway, because what could he say to make an absence feel whole?