characters: Sasuke, Team 7
He rises up out of the dark, pain flaring in sharp needle points all throughout his body. Eyelids heavy, the world is slow to come into focus. The air smells damp and salty, a fine mist pressing in on his skin until something like a chill is settled in his bones.
There is a weight on his chest and from around him comes the sound of sobbing.
Sasuke? Is that his name?
Something hot and wet hits his face and for a moment, in his befuddled daze, he thinks of summer rain and his mother calling him in from the yard, her eyes fluttering between him and the bedsheets hanging on the line.
But mother is dead – so who is this person sobbing his name as though their very life depends on it?
Slowly, Sasuke opens his eyes. The only thing he can see is pink.
It is Sakura's head on his chest, her thin arms wrapped around his bloody torso, that is weighing him down. He can feel the sobs that wrack her body radiating through her skin against his own.
Her name on his lips is something like a sigh, a gasp of air in startled lungs. Immediately her head snaps up and he is greeted with watery green eyes, tremulous hope shining obliquely through.
For the briefest of moments, it is this which stuns him into silence.
It hits him so powerfully in that split second – that in all the years since that night, Sakura Haruno is the first person to genuinely care whether he lives or dies. Sakura, who is immature and clever and normal, is crying and she is crying for him.
That light coming back into her green, green eyes – all for him.
Something shifts then, so slow and unremarkable, that Sasuke doesn't even notice. But it is in this moment that Sakura Haruno is re-allotted from her place in a nameless, faceless crowd and fitted somewhere new.
Naruto was the first to stand out, alone, in a quiet corner of Sasuke's mind. Rival, teammate, friend.
Sakura is the second, but her place in the gravitational field of his existence is a lot harder to define.
notes: I don't know. Procrastination. I have 4 assignments due this month and 48, 000 words of NaNoWriMo left to write and THIS CAME OUT INSTEAD. ALSO. I am re-watching Roswell cos I am a dork and I loved that shit when I was a kid. Yeeees.
notes2: I want to go home. I miss my friends and my double bed and my mummy. I AM A HOMEBOD. I LIKE TO BE WITH PEOPLE WHO LOVE ME, KAY? :(