precious team 7

Normalcy Pt. I

sasu/saku/naru indecisive madness

In which Sakura decides that dealing with her teammates’ millionth departure gracefully is much more effort than she wants to afford them, and it’s about time the two of them experience the sensation of being left behind anyway. 

or alternatively: Sakura comes back from an unnanounced year long mission as her badass ANBU commander self and the boys just can’t fathom that she would be anything other than ecstatic to see them

Sasuke’s slightly less of a dysfunctional ass, Naruto’s put his big boy pants on, and it’s all downhill from here

i suck at writing serious things tbh

but here’s the beginning of an attempt

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The Missing-Nin: Prologue

Rating: Mature

There are two paths, and the moment has come for Sasuke to choose: love or hate, peace or war. He stares at the photograph of Team 7 for a full minute, taking in Naruto’s frown and Sakura’s smile. He’s never given the picture much more than a cursory glance before, but now he can’t seem to take his eyes off of it. Because for the first time since his family was killed (slaughtered under Itachi’s blade), there are people who are precious to him. Before Team 7, he had nothing to live for besides revenge, but now he has something to lose.

Really, though, the choice has already been made for him. His brother saw to that years ago. Sasuke is an avenger; anything else he ever might have been died with his clan.  

Sakura is on her way home—until she isn’t. She stops mid-step, frozen with an instinctual sort of certainty that Sasuke is leaving, might already be gone. For a moment, she stands stock-still, listening to the night’s noises. Crickets and the autumn wind, rustling through Konoha’s eponymous leaves.

Then she turns around, and runs.

Somewhere in the village, there is an empty room. It boasts a wide bed, much too large for a child of thirteen. Darkness reigns, the lone lamp turned off, and everything is almost surgically clean. The boy who used to live here is neat, disciplined, and it shows in his living space. Silence echoes off the walls and floors, as full as it is quiet.

And in this room sits a framed photograph (a moment of reluctant camaraderie caught on film), turned face down.

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