Fic: The bittersweet between my teeth
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Naruto.
AUTHOR’S NOTE: Written for the prompt #Blur for the SasuKarin FC.
Inspired by the songs I Should Go by Levi Kreis and Young Blood originally by The Naked and Famous but it’s the Birdy version that I had on repeat.
My first Naruto fic. Actually, I have always believed that I would NEVER EVER write a fic for the Naruto fandom but then Karin appeared, SasuKarin happened, and I read the extensive credible MANIFESTO, and because of that I was completely wonderfully bought. And now I ship them hard, enough to give me sleepless nights because I need SK feels and I desperately frustratingly want to write them. Enough with the rant though.
I hope you SK fellow fans like it.
prompt: #Blur
.
He calls her name. She gives him a half vague answer. They call it communication. And it’s in circles and not. But nobody needs to remember this.
… the bittersweet between my teeth …
We lie beneath the stars at night
Our hands gripping each other tight
You keep my secrets hope to die
Promises, swear them to the sky… .
.
There are no rules for this. But there are boundaries.
She lies on her back, still as a corpse, with fingers folded on her stomach and glasses lost somewhere above her head, her hair unfurling like a crown of blood against the patch of green that looks black in the darkness of the night.
When Sasuke joins her, she doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t move, doesn’t look, doesn’t do anything at all. Karin just breathes, simply lies there, silently, with her skin being tickled by the grass underneath her, waiting. Waiting.
She is waiting.
She knows what this will be all about, because today is that day, she remembers, for his sake, just as he remembers about that other day for her sake.
Sasuke sighs into the wind, the cold cold wind that weighs heavily.
She closes her eyes and feels for his chakra. Its essence dance on her fingertips, on her skin, and in her mind. She immediately senses it, something, out of place, unbecoming…
It is uncertain, wavering, affected.
Almost as if, as if — she searches for the right word but before she can find it, take it out from the tip of her tongue, he suddenly interrupts her train of thought.
“You’ll catch a cold.”
Her eyes snaps open. “No, I won’t,” she retorts.
“Besides,” she continues, “I used to do this before, way back, on the meadows, on the fields… Flowerbeds were my favorite.”
He hums in response.
It’s her time to sigh.
“Won’t you catch a cold?” She asks, her voice carrying a teasing tone.
There is a sound, she measures it — snort, it is a snort. Karin rolls her eyes.
"Proud as ever,” she mumbles. His mouth twitches but she doesn’t catch it. She’s looking at the sea of stars above them and so is he.
They are not playing shogi. She doesn’t have to rely on attacks and counteroffensives. But with Sasuke she — anybody — might as well be. Talking is talking, though. They have done this before. It’s just that things may have changed.
Karin ventures. “What about you?”
The wind whispers in her ear and the crickets start to sing louder but she thinks it’s too quiet because she can clearly count his breaths. The question is left to hang for too long and she begins to wonder if he’ll ever answer. There is always an answer with Sasuke, just in different forms. Or maybe she has asked the wrong question.
He fists his hands then opens them. She perks up. “I liked dinner,” he supplies.
“Dinner…,” she repeats, mostly to herself.
Sasuke’s leg moves, it bumps softly, very softly, lightly, against her leg. If she turns a bit they’ll be touching.
“Do you miss it?” He asks, his voice indulgent.
Karin spreads her hands on the grass, her fingers playing with the blades.
“Sometimes. Sometimes not. There are also times when I hate it and I want to forget it. Memories are that perplexing, they’re pleasant and painful at the same time.”
Sasuke purses his lips, his body becoming rigid, she senses.
Karin slides her leg, and then they are touching. But not quite.
They are touching and they are not.
Sasuke exhales. The sound feeling so loud as if he breathed beside her ears.
They settle down. They let her words settle down like mud on the depths of lake water. And then they turn the stars as makeshift centerpiece.
Karin connects the dots of light and tries to piece two and two together.
“Do you miss it, Sasuke?” she asks, faintly.
It takes a minute and a second and forever. Dead air speaks back to her. Karin wants to feel tired, but she doesn’t, because of love or compassion or whatever it doesn’t matter. They’re terrible at this. Sasuke is blunt. She is brutally honest. That’s not even the complicated part. Still, there are things to clear here. Lots of baggage, and they both need to learn how to clean.
Sasuke sighs, again. He pinches the bridge of his nose and brushes back his hair. She notices even though she shouldn’t. Body language, he needs to work on that. There are a lot of things happening but nothing happens. Karin scratches an invisible itch on her arm.
“I’m prying too much, aren’t I?” she remarks, dryly. He frowns.
“No,” he says. She can’t say she is surprised.
She hears a shift. She turns to look and when she does, she finds her stare mirrored. He is readable and unfathomable, there are a thousand wars and there is nothing in his eyes, an easy paradox. She thinks of storms.
Her gaze focuses, his hardens.
He’s too close. She can smell the sweat and blood in his skin and taste his breath in her mouth, swallow it with hers. Karin drowns. She drowns in the deep deep bottomless obsidian, and — juxtaposition, stalemate, compromise, distance, distance, distance — floats in her head. She gets the urge to close the gap and fill the space in-between. In-between. And she wants to laugh and scream and combust.
She blinks. Once. Twice. The connection breaks.
This is not a game, except it feels like it is. This is circumstance. And Sasuke has to own up on things he started, even if it’s just in theory. And she? She is just more stubborn.
“Do you, Sasuke?” she whispers.
There is a flicker. She searches his eyes. He is studying her. What it all comes down into is that this is, in equal parts, a test for him and for her. They do not have to do this all over again, but round and round and two by two, old habits die hard, perhaps. Old habits. Maybe. And talking with Sasuke, talking with Sasuke is always either wrong turns or sharp angles, she reminds herself. Wrong turns or sharp angles.
“Do you?” she presses.
Another flicker. “There’s nothing to miss,” his voice is hard and dry.
Her eyes strays to his lips but they barely linger there to meet back his gaze. His eyes are darker than before. She licks her lips. You can’t lie to me Sasuke — she wants to say, but she doesn’t. After all, it’s half truth and half a lie.
Karin shakes her head.
“Yeah, there’s nothing to miss. But it doesn’t mean you don’t.”
He purses his lips and grows silent again.
She hates redundancy.
Karin sits up and folds her legs underneath her. She grabs the poor unaware blades of grass and pull on them, unmercifully. Sasuke is quiet behind her but she can feel the scalding stare he is giving her. It tears the fabric of her shirt into shreds and burn holes in her skin. She likes to bask on it whenever he’s giving her that stare, but not now. Not now.
She pulls more, some more, and some more.
There is shuffling behind her and she halts, her hand suspended in the air. When she looks over her shoulder, she finds Sasuke sitting, shadows playing on his face. He pierces her eyes with his own.
It comes sudden. Her name slips out of nowhere, soft, gentle, seeking.
The corners of her mouth curl, slightly. Just slightly.
“Karin…” he calls again.
But she’ll be damned because the answer lies within her name. It’s becoming a habit of his; that because she understands, he expects her to always know. He counts on it, almost to a fault. And maybe she should tell him that sentences which usually consists of only her name is not a healthy form of conversation, especially when he doesn’t talk much in the first place, but she isn’t going to do that now or any sooner. For what its worth, she is always tempted to pretend that she hasn’t got a clue on what he’s trying to tell her, if only for her to satiate her curiosity on what his reaction will be.
“Karin”
But the chance hasn’t come yet.
Karin sighs, yet again, but this time its light, almost like blowing a feather. She pushes herself back to Sasuke’s side until their shoulders and elbows graze each other and their legs and knees meet. Sasuke doesn’t move, but he is watching her.
And then, there it is, he is giving her that certain look, and she knows what to deliver, and he knows what she can see but he doesn’t tear away.
Her hair slides over her eyes.
She gives him a small tight smile. Sasuke’s stare goes to the far off distance, to the unknown. Karin drops her gaze, to the long line of his throat, down to his chest, to his shoulders, and to his arms. They rest at his fingers.
She puts her hand on top of his, tentatively, tenderly, testing and waiting, the lightest of touches like a butterfly’s wing, and when she feels the welcoming warmth of his chakra, she lets it settle.
She pulls back, then pats the hand gently.
She repeats the action.
Once more.
And again.
And again.
And then his head falls on her shoulder. She looks briefly at him.
“Am I heavy?” his voice is muffled.
She swallows. “No.”
She continues where she left off.
But that’s not all there is to it.
Sasuke catches her fingers and links hers with his, like intertwined laces. A chain of mess. He squeezes. She squeezes back. They are all limbs now, bones, and skin, and flesh. A heap, she thinks. Just like a heap.
It begins with a jerk. It begins with a jerk, then a tremble, until his shoulders shake. It’s not the first time so she knows how to read the signs. She remembers.
Old habits.
Karin caresses his hair with her free hand. Sasuke buries himself deeper down her shoulder. A seamless unpracticed routine. They stay like that for a while, a really long while that she doesn’t really know how long.
And then sunrise greets them, Sasuke emerges from the shelter of her shoulder and looks at her with molten eyes.
“Before, you said you had something to do instead of coming with me, what was it?” he asks, and she already knows where this is heading, but that’s not the point. She can hear the underlying question beneath it though. She tilts her head to the side. Semantics. She has a mind for it.
There are no lies here, there’s no need for it. But she can’t find it in her to answer. It would mean displaying all her cards, and Karin doesn’t want to lose, not yet. She hasn’t even played well, the game hasn’t even started, and Sasuke remains static. It’s all relative.
She grips his hand tighter and opens her mouth, only to close it again. And then, and then, out of the blue he traces a peeking bite mark on her neck. Everything breaks loose. It all goes down the drain and spills from her mouth.
(A memory of a string of promises whispered in the dark. She remembers. She remembers a lot of strange things.)
“Nowhere.”
“What?”
“Nothing,” she tells him. “It’s nothing. I lied.”
It makes anything plausible. He is Sasuke and she is Karin. Nothing else. No Suigetsu or Juugo. Or Madara. Or Itachi. Or revenge. Or Konoha. This is simplicity, and he looks torn, conflicted. He is deciding, hesitating. He looks like he badly wants to say something. Its already there on his lips, lingering to be spoken, but he doesn’t. Karin returns his look with patience, putting across that she is willing to wait, wait for his words to fall and he can trust her to catch it.
It takes forever but the words doesn’t come. He keeps them, tucks them to be hidden away in corners that are hard to find.
Karin leans in.
The sound of the birds’ flapping wings creeps up on them.
Sasuke closes his eyes, and when he opens them again the expression has completely disappeared, not even a fleck left. The moment is slashed, broken, shattered, vanished, lost. Sasuke’s back to being calm and composed. Karin draws back.
“I should go,” he says.
She nods, the motion too sluggish.
“I should go,” he repeats, this one to himself, maybe.
But he is still there. He hasn’t moved an inch, she notes. There may still be whirlwinds in his head.
“Yeah,” she says.
Lines appear in his forehead.
“You too,” he says.
Her eyes dart between his face and their hands, back and forth, back and forth. She sees the apology, the peace offering, and she thinks — how naive, how pure.
“I won’t stay long,” is what she offers.
His lips purse. “Okay.”
A smirk threatens to bloom on her mouth but she stops it.
Sasuke stands and their fingers untangle, painfully slow, and then her hand drops to her lap.
“Karin,” he calls before he goes.
She looks up and meets his eyes.
There he goes again.
“Thanks, Karin.”
This time she lets herself smirk.
“I know." (Always)
"I should go,” he says, flatly.
“I’ll follow you,” she drawls. Then adds, “shortly." (Anywhere)
And if she were younger and if not for old habits she would be offended. There is nothing to expect. She wishes it’s simple as it should be: Talk is cheap. They don’t have to walk on eggshells. But he is Sasuke and she is Karin and then there are ghosts and then there are the ghosts. Curveballs are their expertise. Especially when they’re not talking about it actually means they are talking about it.
They’re not good at this.
Or maybe they are.
.
… . Sometimes Sasuke is predictable. Sometimes he is not. And Karin is no fortuneteller. .
Thanks for reading.
A/N: Shogi is like Japanese chess.
I apologize for the sloppiness. I hadn’t written in a while. But I liked this, it grew out on its own. I was worried that it might end up too short from what I had planned beforehand. Also, I hope I had delivered the message of what they’re really talking about well. If not, just pm me? XD
Another thing, I was trying to give it the iceberg theory (omission) style feel created by Ernest Hemingway. I’m currently obsessed with it.
11 notes
15th June 2013 @ 02:22am
#sasukarin #uchiha sasuke #uzumaki karin #karin #sasuke #naruto #fanfiction
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