Clean Through

She wakes a few hours later and though he hasn’t slept at all, they silently dress before setting off in the direction of Konoha. The bone has healed completely, he’s sure of it, but her leg must still be sore because she’s slower than usual and running with a slight limp. He can’t stand to watch her push herself so, even if he’d do the same so he drops his backpack and tells her to get on. She resists like he knew she would, and he wants to believe it’s because she’s an independent woman and a ninja, not because she’s avoiding his touch. He shoots her a look that says he won’t give in, and she relents.

He likes the feel of her bare thighs in his hands, likes the weight of her against his back even if it adds to his exhaustion, and she rests her head on his shoulder as he runs. They accomplished the mission’s information-gathering objectives but he can’t help but feel like they’ve failed by returning in the condition they’re in.

When they reach the outskirts of the city, he stops on a branch to scan the streets out of habit and then heads in the direction of Sakura’s working class, middle-income house-hold. His single-bedroom apartment in the government housing section of Konoha, a seedier, less attractive face to the village, is located in the opposite direction, but he doesn’t mind going out of his way for her.

She stops him with a squeeze of his shoulder when she realizes where he’s headed. “Don’t. My parent’s aren’t ninja. They won’t understand, and it will only scare them.”

He nods once to show he understands her concern. “Right. I’ll take you to Tsunade-baa-chan’s.”

“Naruto.” She shifts on his back nervously causing him to glance back questioningly. He can almost see his breath in the chill morning air. “Maybe, maybe I want to go to your place,” she says.

You do? he thinks, but instead of questioning takes off in the direction of his apartment with another nod, not wanting to risk her changing her mind.

He sets down in front of the door and awkwardly explains that his keys are in the front pocket of his backpack.

“You lock your door?” she questions as he lowers her to ground and turns to receive the bag.

He shrugs, not wanting to explain to her that it’s not that he has anything worth stealing but that he discovered long ago if he didn’t keep the place locked, villagers would take to daily vandalism. Demon child. Monster. Deadbolts won’t keep ninja out, but he’s not trying to.

He nudges the door open with his foot, shouldering the pack with one hand as he slides his other along the inside wall, searching for the light switch. He hears Sakura close the door behind them, and the lights flicker on slowly, illuminating the cramped space.

He tosses the backpack onto the kitchen’s single, faded counter top and turns to her, one hand scratching the back of his head hesitantly. “You want a drink or something?”

She drops her own bag on the floor and reaches down to unhinge the clasps to her shin protectors. “Mind if I use your shower?”

She doesn’t wait for an answer, but glances behind her once as if she’ll invite him to join her before disappearing down the hall.

He sighs and busies himself preparing some instant ramen, wondering if food will fill the pit in his stomach. He’s halfway through his first bowl when he realizes he doesn’t have much of an appetite even though he hasn’t eaten in the past two days. He sets the bowl in the sink with a loud clink of ceramic on metal and leaves the water boiling on the stove for Sakura.

“You should eat something,” he says when he passes her in the hallway; she’s wearing nothing but his blue bath towel.

He shuts the door to the bathroom more forcefully than he had intended but leaves it purposefully unlocked. As he slips under the stream of scalding liquid, he wonders if she’ll be gone when he emerges. Water runs off of him in pink rivulets. It takes nearly a full bar of soap before he feels like he’s finally scrubbed the blood away, and he’s light-headed as he steps out of the shower.

Of course, Sakura took his last clean towel—serves him right for not doing the laundry—so he peeks his head out of the bathroom to make sure the coast is clear before darting across the hall into his room, even though she’s already seen him naked. If she wants to pretend like nothing happened, he doesn’t want to make it awkward for her.

It’s cold. He bounces around, shivering in the dark, searching for something clean to dry off with when he suddenly hears an exasperated “Naruto!” and glances up just in time to catch the towel that is tossed his way.

He offers a sheepish laugh and grinning, wraps the towel around his waist. “Ah, Sakura-chan.”

She’s wearing one of his t-shirts. It swallows her whole, coming clear down to her thighs, and he can see the edge of a pair of his boxers peaking out from just below it.

“Hmm. Mmm.” He scratches the side of his face, fidgeting.

She half-glares at him, but it’s more curious than anything. “What?”

If possible, his grin widens as he answers, “How should I say this? You look kinda cute.”

She doesn’t say anything, and suddenly he realizes it was the wrong thing to say. He drops his hand to his side and falls silent, wishing he could take it back.

I didn’t mean to make it awkward.

“Thank you, Naruto.”

He looks to her with a hopeful smile and wants to ask if she’s really not going back to her parents tonight even though she’s clean and presentable now, but he thinks maybe if he keeps his big mouth shut she’ll stay.

“Ah. There’s a laundry room downstairs, just let me get dressed real quick and—”

He stops when she closes the distance between them and grabs his wrist. His eyes are wide as she raises the underside of it to her lips and places the softest of kisses there.

“I don’t care about that,” she whispers just barely loud enough for him to hear. The sadness catches in her voice when she adds, “I want to heal you first.”

“They’re just bruises,” he offers quietly but doesn’t resist when she pulls him toward the bed. He understands that they must remind her of things she'd rather be forgotten.

He shivers as she runs her fingertips across his bare skin, but she’s concentrating on her task, fading the marks before his very eyes; there’s nothing sexual about it.

When she’s finished, he doesn’t know what to say.

“Sakura-chan, you know I—”

She leans in then and presses her lips to his, silencing him. He “mmm”s into her mouth, pleased at her affection, but he can’t help but wonder if it’s because she’s afraid of what he’ll say.

“Don’t tell me you love me,” she breathes when she pulls away.

He looks away, looks at nothing. “I was going to say I’d take the couch if you wanted to stay.” He rises, suddenly needing to find some clean clothes. He knew this would happen, but it still feels like his heart is breaking just the same. He throws some clothes on, jeans and a t-shirt, not caring if they’re clean anymore and without looking at her says, “Look, you should get some sleep. You’re welcome to stay. I, uh, really need to do some laundry, so. . .”

She doesn’t try to stop him when he goes, but notices that he doesn’t take any of the dirty clothes with him.
Naruto lies on his back on the cold concrete of the academy’s roof and stares at the muted sky. The sun is just beginning to rise. He’s been out here for nearly two hours, and he’s sure now Sakura will have fallen asleep, but somehow he can’t bring himself to go back there. The trouble is he doesn’t have anywhere else to go. He doesn’t want to explain the painful situation to Iruka or Tsunade. Kakashi wouldn’t bother to ask, but he’d turn him away at the door. He also has the sneaking suspicion that he’s being childish about the whole thing. What had he expected? Actually he had expected this, but he had been dumb enough to give in to his desires anyway.

“Get a hold of yourself, Uzumaki,” he mutters as he stumbles to his feet. “You’re making this awkward.”

He lets out a final sigh and heads back in the direction of his apartment.

The place is dark when he returns, and he’s thankful for this—that she’s sleeping—as he tip-toes toward the couch and plops down tiredly, one arm slung across his eyes as he tries to drift off to sleep.

After a few minutes he can sense her presence and tilts his face back to look at her in the darkness. “You’re awake.” His voice is flat, and she doesn’t answer. Propping himself up a little, he adds, “You waited up?”

“Yeah,” she says, sliding into place against his side when he sits up. “I waited up.”

He doesn’t know what to say to that, but he doesn’t want this to become an argument. He doesn’t want to ruin their friendship or cause her to be more distant toward him. So he sits there, not saying anything, feeling the press of her against his side and waiting for her to speak.

“Naruto, I’m sorry.”

He smiles wide and painful in the darkness even though he knows she can’t see it. “It’s fine, Sakura-chan.”

She laugh-sobs a little and says, “You think I can’t tell when you’re hurting?”

He lets the smile fade, but doesn’t say anything. It doesn’t change anything if she knows. He fights the urge to shrug.

“Please, let me finish.” She wraps her arm through his as if he might run away at any moment, but he doesn’t relax against her. “You’re my closest friend. And I thought I was going to lose you last night.”

You don’t have to explain, he wants to say to stop it because he’s not sure he can take anymore, but she asked him to be quiet so he continues to sit there, trying not to feel.

“Ever since you came back to Konoha, I’ve. . .” She lets her voice trail off for a moment before finishing, “Well, I’ve noticed you.”

She blushes despite herself, and he wonders briefly if she'll cover her embarrassment with anger like usual.

“I mean, I’ve tried not to, believe me. You’re loud and immature and reckless and always getting into trouble.”

“Saaakura-chan. . .” He frowns slightly, but finds himself relaxing into her side as he lets out a sigh.

He can see the corners of her lips quirk as she adds, “But you’re always there for me. And I like being around you. I like our play dates.” She falls silent for a moment, serious when he finishes, “And if you tell me you love me, and if I think that I love you then . . . I can’t help but feel like somehow along the way I’ve betrayed Sasuke-kun.”

He betrayed us first, he argues mentally but it’s a bitter side of him that he doesn’t like so he keeps it to himself. Instead he offers, “You don’t have to feel that way. I promised I’d bring him back for you didn’t I? You think I’d try to get in the way?”

She slips her arms through his and pulls him tight against her. He sits there, staring into the darkness, hugged against her chest, unsure what to feel.

“You don’t understand,” she whispers, and the silence swallows her words whole. “You already have.”