Capítulo 61: Chapter 60: Juxtaposition
Sasuke heard Sakura impart some departing words to the trio that had just spent the noon hour with them, and close the door soon afterwards. He himself was eating a sliced up tomato which Sakura had put out for him, on what he guessed was a long, narrow sushi dish. He prodded a wedge of the fruit experimentally before picking it up neatly, and bringing it to his mouth. He chewed slowly on the piece, listening carefully for Sakura's approaching footsteps while he savored the tangy flavour of the tomato, enjoying the sour taste.
He caught the sound of Sakura's footfalls as she walked back down the hall and towards the kitchen; she sighed heavily as she entered before taking a seat down opposite him. He heard a sort of 'flump,' which he assumed was her flopping down across the table amid the dirty dishes.
"I can't believe them sometimes," he heard her say, her voice muffled.
He raised a composed eyebrow, taking another slice of tomato. "Why is that?" he asked her, knowing that she could not see his inquisitive look, so he had to speak, even if he would have preferred not to.
"They each gave me a talking to about the accommodation arrangements," she said, sounding like she was sitting up, " 'I don't know about this, Sakura.' 'I'm not comfortable with this, Sakura.' 'Be careful, Sakura.' Honestly!"
He smirked slightly, "It's not like we weren't expecting something like this."
"I know, I know—I just thought that they would be a little more understanding, and not so against it. I mean, we both are clear of the situation, we're sensible, and it's not like it's going to be forever," Sakura replied wearily, then after a moment, added with a tone with grim amusement, "It's kinda funny—they were all worried about you trying something, but nobody seemed worried that I'd try and seduce you. A little unfair if you ask me."
"I'm single, a criminal, and male," he told her simply, "I fit the stereotypical profile."
"Yeah, yeah," Sakura replied offhandedly, "But I would have thought that Naruto would know you well enough…"
She trailed off and sighed. It sounded like she was getting to her feet, and after a few seconds he heard a cupboard open, followed by the clattering of dishes.
"I could have sworn I saw a teapot around here somewhere…" he heard her mutter to herself; Sasuke just put another piece of tomato in his mouth, "—Aha! Do you want some tea, Sasuke?"
"Aa."
"Any particular kind? I bought some regular tea, green tea and some jasmine tea," she asked him kindly while he heard the tap come on.
"It doesn't matter," he replied, poking around the dish for any more pieces of tomato, but found no more. He set his chopsticks aside he listened to Sakura scuffle about the room; he put his chin in his palm and thought about his own share of lectures. As he listened to Sakura prattle on happily about being able to find everything that was on her shopping list, he found it hard to imagine her in the depressive state that her brother had described her in.
Naruto had said it was bad; Kanaye said it was worse. Yet as he sat in the kitchen, Sakura brewing a pot of tea and chatting away, he couldn't help get the feeling that he was missing something. She had missed him, they said, but she showed no signs of being overjoyed at his return. She had been so depressed, they had told him, yet she was so cheerful now, and showed no indication of ever being in that state.
He jumped slightly as there was a light 'thunk' of a mug of steaming tea being set before him, the noise jolting him out of his thoughts.
"I made it mild, but I can get you a stronger cup if you like," Sakura said warmly, seeming to have gotten over the lectures she got.
"This is fine," he told her, feeling for the mug in the direction of the noise.
"Little to your left," she said in an almost automatic tone.
He found the cup to the left of his hand like she had said, and wrapped his hands around the warm crockery, feeling the heat in his hands. Taking a sip, he noted that it was a little weaker than he usually liked, but did not want to bother her for more, so he just drank it quietly.
Within the single week he had been in Konoha, he had come to grow used to Sakura helping him, and didn't mind so much anymore. She in turn had become accustomed to warn him about little things in the area that he would be unaware of, giving him the heads up before he discovered it the hard way. Her descriptions were still so-so, but he supposed they were a little better than before, and they sufficed enough to get him a rough picture in his mind.
She hadn't described the house to him, not that she needed to really; he had grown up in this place, and there were memories of each room that he held clear in his mind—some considerably less pleasant than others. Unless the Hokage had upended his house in order to come up with any more non-existent evidence that he had long-term dealings with Orochimaru, things should have been left the same. He didn't know if anyone had bothered to sort through the belongings from his apartment and wondered if they were sitting in some heap in the house somewhere.
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