Ball and chain|| Sasusaku

Chapter 12

Sasuke looks over the same file for the fourth time.

His gaze remains fixed on the aged print as his fingers trace over the words he absentmindedly ignores along with the not-so-discreet looks the inspectors give him as he takes up the seat of the assistant inspector standing behind him with his head hung low and knees shaking, his breath caught in his throat. It's been two hours. His report, 2 pages all, sits untouched on his table. Instead, Sasuke holds the file, the first page open for the past two hours.

He wouldn't dare question his senior, however.

Everyone who works in Kagawa prefecture's CID department must know of Uchiha Sasuke's temper. Or his frigid demeanor, in general. It's a given. The Uchiha family seems to have deemed the job their personal playground. Exactly how many individuals bearing the surname "Uchiha" did he see on the list of names of the top brass? More than what he can count on both his hands, at the very least.

He has also been privy to the rumors. With his achievements alone, Sasuke should have been eligible for promotions long back. Some say the Superintendent favors the older son. Others claim allegations of a checkered past kept Sasuke from advancing the ranks, something about him not being of sound mind, and other exaggerated spins on his background. The new hire wonders, though, if there is indeed some truth to the rumors.

He wants to sit.

Is there even a way he can diplomatically convey to his superior, who is utilizing his workspace for training him with a previous case study, that it would be more suitable for them to conduct the session from their own chair?

A sigh escapes the recruit.

Turn the goddamn page, at least.

Sasuke is trying his best, however. The incident remains vivid in his memory, but the only tangible piece of information he has gleaned from it is the name of a single victim. A sigh rolls out of his lips and his mind circles back to Sakura.

Sakura.

The mere mention of her name becomes a pebble in his throat. He has to do something—anything—but ideas elude him. He grapples with a lack of solutions, uncertain of what to say to her without worsening the situation. A woman so scared, nearly permanently scarred by strangers who would have paid her pain no mind, and instead of comforting her, he had further clawed into her wounds. Not just anything; he went ahead and accused her of fooling around with his own brother. Sasuke pinches the bridge of his nose.

Maybe it's over, after all.

Somehow, the prospect of their relationship unraveling clutches at his very essence, evoking a fear that appears to have been part of him forever, yet remains an elusive stranger, which is funny because he can't even put a name to their relationship. On paper, they are married, and he unilaterally designates them as friends, but the question persists: what sentiments does Sakura harbor for him?

What is the middle-ground of their relationship? Who are they to each-other?

The answer is as absent as his knowledge of Sakura. Over the course of their marriage, all he has managed to uncover are the basics: her name, age, and job. A bitter taste follows the chuckle that escapes from the recesses of his throat.

"Mr. Watchguard here seems to have lost his touch if he didn't notice me coming?"

That voice.

Sasuke raises his head and finds himself locking eyes with a pair of cerulean blue orbs.

"Yo!"

"Naruto?" Sasuke abandons his seat. "When did you come back?"

"Yesterday. Still giving your recruits a hard time, eh, Sergeant?" Naruto grins, extending a fist into the air. "The guy behind you is about to pass out. I heard he's been like this for the past two hours."