"No way!"
Sakura froze where she stood, her entire body numb.
She truly hadn't expected this. Sasuke… Uchiha Sasuke… had actually come to her house, looking for her. After all the years of longing, after all the nights she spent dreaming and crying—he was really here. The boy she had chased since her Academy days was now sitting in her living room, waiting for her.
The shock was so overwhelming that Sakura thought her mind might be playing tricks on her. She wanted to confirm it with her own eyes. So, with her heart pounding louder than any battlefield drum, she slowly descended the stairs.
And there he was. Sasuke stood up the moment he saw her, his dark eyes locked on hers.
"Sakura," he said simply, his deep voice steady as ever.
Sakura gasped softly. For a moment she couldn't believe it. She pinched her cheek hard—
"Ah!" It hurt. This wasn't a dream.
Her father, Haruno Kizashi, pointed at Sasuke with an expression that was equal parts smug and amused.
"See, Sakura? I told you I wasn't lying. It's really Sasuke!"
Her mother, Haruno Mebuki, had already set down a steaming cup of tea in front of Sasuke, her face caught between hospitality and nerves. The Uchiha was, after all, not just any young man. He was one of the heroes who ended the Fourth Shinobi World War.
Sakura's legs wobbled. She had believed her father's words halfway, but to actually see Sasuke in her living room, casually sipping tea—her brain short-circuited.
"Ahhhhhhh!!!"
Her scream echoed through the house. Without warning, she spun around and bolted back upstairs.
Sasuke blinked, caught off guard. A rare flicker of confusion crossed his usually stoic face. He turned awkwardly toward Sakura's parents.
Mebuki smiled thinly, trying to ease the tension. "She's just… a little shy. Please don't mind her."
Sasuke nodded. "It's fine."
Kizashi, however, let out a long sigh. He knew exactly what was going on.
From the first day he dropped Sakura off at the Academy, he had noticed the way she looked at Sasuke. At first, he dismissed it as childish infatuation. But even after Sasuke defected from Konoha, Sakura's spirit had been crushed for months. It was only thanks to Naruto—bright, stubborn Naruto—that she managed to stand up again.
Kizashi knew Naruto's feelings too. He had once been a boy himself, after all, and he could easily recognize that kind of gaze. Naruto looked at Sakura the way a man looked at the center of his whole world. But the village shunned him back then, and Kizashi never believed the boy was a suitable match for his daughter.
Yet, years later, nothing had changed in Sakura's heart. She still loved Sasuke. Even when Naruto rose as a hero, even when peace blanketed the shinobi world, her feelings never wavered.
So when Sasuke himself walked into their house, Kizashi understood. It didn't matter what he or anyone else thought—his daughter's heart was set.
He invited Sasuke to sit back down and began chatting lightly about ordinary matters, trying to break the ice. Neither he nor Mebuki were shinobi, and they never forced Sakura toward any particular path. They simply wanted her happy.
Meanwhile, upstairs, Sakura collapsed onto her knees, her face burning red.
"It's over, it's over, it's over! I showed him my ugliest side!"
She glanced into the mirror—and nearly fainted. Her pink hair was messy, her pajamas wrinkled, her face bare without a single touch of makeup.
"Oh my god…" she whimpered, clutching her face. "This is a girl's worst nightmare! To stand in front of Sasuke-kun like this… I… I…"
Tears welled up. She rolled onto the floor dramatically, wailing in despair.
But then her father's voice thundered from downstairs:
"Sakura! Wash up and come down quickly!"
She froze. Right. Sasuke was still there. He had come to see her. For what reason, she didn't know, but she couldn't possibly let him leave thinking of her like this!
In a burst of determination, she dashed into the bathroom. Within minutes, the sound of water echoed as she scrubbed her face, brushed her teeth, and frantically styled her hair. She hurried back to her vanity, dusting powder across her cheeks, applying light lipstick, then rummaging through her closet for clothes.
Just as she pulled out a dress, Kizashi's voice boomed again.
"Sakura! What's taking you so long?"
"I know!" she snapped, fumbling with her outfit. "I'll be down right away!"
Finally, she slipped into a light-colored dress, paired it with heels, and twirled in front of the mirror. Perfect. Not too much, not too little. For once, she looked every bit the young woman she had become, not the awkward little girl chasing after Sasuke.
She inhaled sharply, then tiptoed toward the stairs.
Peeking around the corner, she caught sight of him. Sasuke sat calmly on the sofa, but as if sensing her, his dark eyes shifted—straight toward her hiding spot.
Their gazes met.
"Sakura," Sasuke said, rising to his feet.
Caught, Sakura quickly pulled her head back, pressing against the wall. Her chest pounded. There was no escape.
Taking a deep breath, she stepped out.
Her heels clicked softly against the floor as she revealed herself. The dress hugged her figure, her pale thighs showing beneath the hem, her cheeks tinged with blush. She lowered her eyes shyly, then slowly looked up at him.
For a rare moment, Sasuke's eyes softened.
Kizashi chuckled knowingly. "Well, look at you, Sakura. Why don't you come sit here?"
Before she could protest, he gently pushed her toward the sofa. She sank down beside Sasuke, her heart racing so fast she thought he might hear it.
Mebuki leaned forward, watching with the sharp instincts of a mother. Yes, her daughter was smitten. And yes, this boy was no ordinary guest.
Finally, Kizashi spoke. "Sasuke, what brings you here to see my daughter today?"
Sasuke glanced at Sakura's parents, then at Sakura herself. He realized this wasn't the right place to explain what he truly wanted to say. So, with practiced calm, he replied, "Naruto asked me to meet Sakura. He said there was something important."
Kizashi and Mebuki exchanged a look, then nodded.
Sakura, however, froze. What? Naruto? Her chest tightened. So Sasuke hadn't really come for her? Was this just another one of Naruto's setups?
But before her thoughts spiraled, Sasuke rose.
"Then, Sakura, if you're free, let's go. Naruto's waiting."
Disappointed but unable to resist, Sakura stood as well. Mebuki quickly pressed a wrapped rice ball into her hand. "Eat on the way."
After a polite farewell, Sasuke led Sakura out into the village streets.
They walked in silence until they reached a quiet park. The trees swayed gently, and only the chirping of birds filled the air.
Sakura looked around. "Naruto's not here? Didn't you say—"
Sasuke turned to face her, his expression serious. "That was a lie. I only said that for your parents' sake. The truth is… I came to find you myself."
Sakura's eyes widened. Her heart skipped a beat. "You… came for me?"
Sasuke nodded, his gaze piercing yet calm. "Yes. I wanted to talk to you about the future."
"The… the future?" Sakura stammered. Her mind swirled. Was she dreaming again? Was Sasuke actually here, not only speaking to her, but speaking of a future? Their future?
Her knees went weak. She barely managed to whisper:
"Sasuke-kun…"
Her heart screamed a thousand emotions, but only one thought rose above them all—
This was real.
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