Ball and chain|| Sasusaku

Chapter 8

//tw: rape//

Another night so sad that the night breeze seemed especially cold to her, or maybe it was just Sakura feeling histrionic and the cold was just because snow had befallen them heavier than reality does, and the temperature had naturally toned down. A mélange of footsteps festooned the niveous road, and out of the blue, she desired to read them. Happy footsteps, footsteps more desolate than the others, footsteps of fathers bringing cake back home for their families, of women working overnight for their children, of drunk friends and of people in love. It was a foolish thought and rose out of random mindlessness, but it held its importance for a few seconds before she let it slip her mind. Maybe she had been more sentimental than she usually would have been. Maybe it was the snow. Or the footsteps. It could have been because her bicycle had broken down that night and she had to walk all the way back home, which she was fairly glad about for home would then have become an hour farther than usual. That could have been a reason, too.

She could have taken a ride home but it would cost her twice as much as a coffee and coffee sounded oddly appalling to her then, much more than home did. A mere hundred yen could make her the happiest girl in the world, much more than millions can make some. The amount also wasn't less to her; it was another contribution to her tuition fee. Sakura exhaled into her hands, hoping her breath would warm her hands until she realized her breath was cold and she had gloves on. They were special to her. She had brought them 2 winters back, on a dry day unlike the present, as a present to self, in Ino's words, or one could call it a threat. It must have registered well, because even after two years of labor of warming her hands, they were intact and beautiful. They were also pink—Sakura liked pink. Sakura made sure to only buy things that were pink even if she had to go an extra length and spend a little more than she planned. Sakura easily accommodated, but she had her own guilty pleasures. She liked to cherish things, as if it was the last day she would get to use them. The more importance something had in her life, the more she felt like a person worth receiving it. 

Sakura exhaled again, fog cuddling together before dissipating into nothingness. She slid her hands into the pockets of her jackets in search of extra heat. She wondered if Sasuke's hands would be this warm; she had a feeling they would be. The fleece jacket wasn't enough to cover the sensation of her heart thumping against her chest, especially when he inhabited her mind, considering she had only ever seen him up close once which was years ago. Sasuke had sauntered into her life subtly, as if he was supposed to be there, as if he was a butterfly maundering into houses through ajar windows which seemed like they were open just to welcome them in. Butterflies aren't meant to be caught. You chase them and stop before your fingers make contact. That's how you bond with them. For Sakura, Sasuke was something of the same manner. She could be with him, only until it was within the peripheries of her imagination.

Sakura squeezed her eyes, flustered at her thoughts, identifying the blood rushing to her face and butterflies in her stomach. These feelings were strange to her. She could describe it as arranging her furniture, which had stayed in the same place for years, into new places and feeling awkward because everything felt new despite being the same old things, however still not being able to resist the urge to stare at it again and again. She did not have better words to describe what a crush felt like. To Ino, it was an "urge to gatekeep someone". Sakura had not yet established if she wanted to gatekeep Sasuke because she was aware it was completely impossible in reality. Sasuke was someone out of reach. 

But coffee wasn't. Not right now, anyway. Sakura had already reached the vending machine. The journey had seemed shorter while she had been lost in her thoughts about Sasuke and she just hoped she had not passed by someone she knew, looking like she had been delirious.