Happy Accidents

Chapter 44: Regret

Sakura was stunned into silence as Sasuke ranted at her and slammed the door on his way out. His words stung deeper than he'd expected; he'd practically told her that her attempts to console him were worthless. She'd never heard him be so... vicious. Watching as the lights from his vehicle disappeared, Sakura could feel the tears coming down her cheeks at his words. The worst part was, she did understand more than he thought; she knew what it was like to be scared, to fear for your life, to feel like you were looking over your shoulder constantly. She'd felt that for a while; he was her only solace for those feelings. She couldn't set foot in her old home, even with a friend; trying to walk through the door made her feel like she was going to choke.

He was her safety. Her comfort. Her salvation in those dark moments she'd been stuck in. And now... Now she was afraid she was losing that. She was losing him. Sobs wracked through her as the impact of his words hit deeper, leaving her kneeling on the floor feeling defeated. She'd just wanted to try and help him. She just wanted to be there for him the way he'd been there for her.

Maybe... maybe she really had overstayed her welcome here. He wanted to be left alone, and perhaps that was what was best for him. She'd give him tonight to come home, and if he hadn't returned by the time she had to leave for work, then she'd take that as a sign. A sign they needed to slow down, take a step back, and maybe... maybe reconsider. Plus, Sakura knew that she couldn't lean on him for her own comfort, especially not now. She couldn't keep putting all of this pressure on him to be her sense of safety when he was struggling with his own demons. She needed to give him room to breathe and learn to stand back up on her own again.

Sniffling and wiping tears on the back of her hand, she set about picking up the scattered photos and reorganizing them into the files he'd brought home, followed by picking up the shattered pieces of the lamp he'd broken. She couldn't do much about the hole in the wall, but she was sure he'd be able to figure that out himself. She sat down on the couch, staring at the fireplace as her gut twisted into knots and her heart ached in her chest.

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The moment he was in his car, he just drove. He took turns and let his instincts guide him, hyper-focused on the road in an attempt to drown out any other mental noise. He needed time and space to think, process, and figure everything out; he knew he wouldn't sleep tonight, given how hard-wired he was on caffeine. He was used to pulling all-nighters regardless.

He drove, and drove, and drove until he finally reached wherever his mind had naturally taken him. It was a lot that appeared to be empty, especially in the dark; however, it would be much easier to see the burned remnants of a family home if one looked during the daytime. It was the very same lot that his childhood home had burned down on; after his parents were dead and his family had gone missing, the lot had been passed down to him, though it was held in a trust until he was an adult. Even when he'd been allowed to do whatever he pleased with it, he'd never been able to make any changes to it.

Parking on the street and walking up to it, he wandered around the charred remnants, the memory of the layout still fresh in his mind. He'd never forgotten what it was like. In fact, the memories seemed to haunt him no matter what he did. They would always be there, always taunting him for the rest of his life. It was a fate he couldn't escape, and as of late, he risked pulling others down with him.

Staring at where the kitchen used to be, he remembered things his mother used to say. He remembered how watching Sakura in the kitchen; he had been constantly reminded of his mother, of the kindness she had in her heart, of the way she loved both of her boys and her husband, despite any faults they may have had. Her kindness was unmatched in Sasuke's eyes. She never deserved what came to her, and the world was a little darker without her presence and her smile.

He wondered, why had he chosen to come here of all places? The rage he'd felt earlier had subsided the moment he visited the charred ruins. He wished, deep down, that he had the courage to do something about this place. He hadn't even taken the time to clean up what was left; he could easily have done something with it. Built a rental property, perhaps, and made money on the side. Taking a seat on the grass, he stared up at the sky, a mess of emotions.

His thoughts quickly went back to Sakura the more he stared. He felt guilty that he'd spoken to her the way he had; she hadn't deserved to be the target of his rage, and yet he'd done it. He'd been so wound up that he'd taken it out on her. He couldn't wipe the look on her face from his mind: the shock in her eyes, the hurt clearly behind them, the tears that welled in them. It pained him to see her tearing up like that.

She, too, was a bright soul like his mother's. She deserved none of what she got in life. He was angry at himself for treating her that way. She'd been nothing but good to him, and in the span of twenty minutes, he'd been more horrible to her than he'd ever been to anyone in his life. He'd entirely undermined her feelings, disregarded the horrors she'd been through, and dismissed her attempts to console and support him. She'd simply been trying to do what she did best: support and love those around her, especially when they were struggling. 

"Congratulations," he muttered to himself. "You have transcended from blunt to asshole." Heaving a sigh, he laid back on the grass and stared upward, more thoughts running through his mind. Just like previously, he knew he would have to do something to make up for it. He recalled the last time he'd given her the wrong impression and how he'd fought to make up for it; the look on her face had been worth it. It had been difficult to keep the entire thing from her, but he'd done it. He could do it again, assuming he hadn't screwed up too badly. He would need some time to think about how to make it up to her, though.

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She waited for hours on end, staring at the door once she'd cleaned up the mess. At some point, she'd fallen asleep on the couch, but as dawn was starting to crest, her confidence that he'd return was sharply dropping. Heaving a sigh, Sakura dragged herself up the stairs and did what she knew she was going to need to do. Perhaps it was a bit extreme for the situation. Still, after an entire night of waiting with deeply hurt feelings, she wasn't feeling confident that it was going to resolve itself easily.

At least she didn't have much to pack. Stuffing what clothing she'd brought with her, Sakura hefted the bag over her shoulder, grabbing her keys and locking the door behind her. She knew the one place she could go when she needed to talk: Ino. She'd stay in her office for a few days until she could find a better temporary solution that she could stay in and spend the rest of her social time hanging out with her friend. A small apartment would have to do. She'd have to dig into some of her savings to do it, and she could rely on Ino to help her get her house ready for sale. It was something she'd been putting off for fear of having to go near the place but now was the time. It was time to confront her fears, to step up and do something about it... and to give Sasuke the space he needed.

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Groggily opening his eyes, Sasuke saw that dawn had started to crest over the horizon. When had he fallen asleep? Oh, no. He hadn't even gone home last night; he was certain Sakura would be worried sick by this point. Great--even after being a jerk, he couldn't make his way home to apologize to her. Scrambling up and brushing dried grass off his clothes, he fumbled for his keys and got into the car, taking off and silently praying that she was still there. Pulling into the driveway, he felt his heart sink as her vehicle wasn't there. He could hope that she'd just gone in to work early, but there was a pit in his stomach telling him otherwise.

Opening the door, he looked around, seeing that she'd taken the time to clean up. There wasn't a pot of coffee on, nor was there remnants of the smell of breakfast. Dropping his things--and momentarily forgetting his usual routine in the thick of his guilty conscience--he rushed upstairs, checking the drawers. Her things were gone; upon checking the bathroom, he found her things were gone from there as well. Silence descended upon him as he sat at the top of the stairs, head in his hands. The guilt he felt was insurmountable; he had no idea how he would make up for this. He'd screwed up royally; he'd not only managed to hurt her feelings, but he'd driven her away with his words.

He was... such a jerk. Such an unbelievable jerk. He could only imagine the thoughts going through her head after that, but knowing her, they weren't positive thoughts. And it was all his fault. The rage and anger he'd felt before leaving had been replaced with a deep-seated sense of regret and guilt, and he had all day to wallow in it. Alone.