Chapter Text
We all have scents; some smell like filth, dust, blood, peace, but after all, each one was different.
Sakura smelled like cherry, a good scent to catch Sasuke’s attention, while he smelled like coffee.
POV: Sasuke U.
Sakura always tried to smell good; no matter how sweaty she was, she would always smell nice, all for me, so she could have my attention. By default, I ended up associating cherries with Sakura.
She always had countless admirers; Lee, Naruto, and other weird boys from villages on missions, someone was always falling at her feet. Despite everything, she kept chasing after me; even though there were more boys who treated her better than I did, she stayed clinging to me, while I only treated her as a annoyance.
Sakura always said I smelled like coffee. According to me, I smelled like tomatoes since they were and still are my favorite food. Even so, Sakura always said and was persistent about it, that I smelled like coffee. Obviously, it wasn’t always like that: sometimes I smelled like mint, other times like sweat, as disgusting as it was, and also like vanilla, mainly when Ino hugged me with an intensity that left her vanilla perfume scent impregnated on me, irritating Sakura in the process.
The night I betrayed the village, Sakura smelled of sweat and fear with cherry perfume. I smelled like coffee more than ever from sleepless nights planning my revenge. She was scared and panicked; I remember her tear-filled face declaring her love for me. At the time, I took it as just another annoyance, but I know that for her, it wasn’t.
After leaving the village and having the fight with Naruto, I began to have a different scent. I met Karin; she always had a strange jasmine smell, far too cloying for my taste. According to Suigetsu, the reason lay in her childhood, overhearing adults talk about the power of pheromone perfumes made her motive more than obvious. Then, the deadly confrontations began.
First death; I felt slightly bad, but not enough to stop. By the tenth death, feeling my enemies lose their vital signs became the most normal thing in the world; one could say I even came to enjoy the frozen terror on my victims’ faces.
By the time I reunited with Sakura, I no longer smelled like coffee or tomatoes; I smelled like blood, and I was aware of it, not caring in the slightest. However, I did notice a different scent on her, it was strange, since there was no trace of cherry. Instead, there was a more predominant scent: strawberries.
In the war, I smelled like blood more than ever. Despite having let go of the resentment I carried for so many years, the memory of all my victims stayed with me, torturing me with the smell of their blood.
I remember Sakura’s scent exactly: sweat, dust, but also strawberries. I never realized it, but I think the cherry scent always suited her better. I’m not saying strawberry smells bad, but I always believed cherry was her default scent—the one that suited her best.
By the end of the war, in the brief moments I could see Sakura before my journey of redemption, she was always with that Hyuga, always. When I tried to get closer to her, the Hyuga would arrive with his stupid defensive voice.
Rumors about the two of them didn’t take long, supposedly “dating,” and each time they were seen closer together. It seemed like the most pathetic thing in the world to me. How could Sakura lower herself to that? How could she still be so annoying even when she wasn’t in my life at all? At what point did she stop being mine?
The day to leave the village again approached, to atone for my sins and shed the weight I had been carrying on my back for eternity. Even though I stopped killing, I still felt the smell of blood on my cloak, on my clothes, running through my entire body like a permanent stain, marked like a scar that never faded. I faithfully believe it was a form of revenge from the people I hurt and killed, and I didn’t blame them.
When I left on my journey of redemption, I remember seeing Sakura with a few tears in her eyes, but nothing beyond that.
Since when did she stop getting nervous just from my presence? I left with a feeling of emptiness and confusion, but it was for the best. Supposedly, the journey was meant to clear everything up; there was nothing in the village that could make me stay, not even her.
By the time I returned to the village after 12 years, everything was different, but what surprised me the most was seeing Sakura. At her side was a boy no older than 9 years old, with dark brown hair and those green eyes characteristic of my pink hairedteammate. I could smell her strawberry scent from afar, with no trace of the old cherry aroma.
I remember when my hawk brought the formal invitation to Sakura’s wedding with the disgusting Hyuuga, something my pride wouldn’t allow me to attend. I declined in a letter, offering my most sincere congratulations, which were sincere in nothing.
So much time between travels and silence made me realize the thousands of opportunities I had to do things right, all rejected by my immense pride. This time, no matter how late it was, I decided to do things right.
Seeing her standing there after so many years awakened something in me. I wanted to go greet her and tell her everything my revenge, the curse mark, and above all my pride never let me say—but my feet wouldn’t move.
Sakura didn’t notice me until the small child tugged at her clothes and said something to her, making her turn to look at me.
She stared at me, almost as if I were a ghost. “Was I gone for that long?” I thought.
She snapped out of it and greeted me with a warm hug, updating me on Konoha’s situation and offering to go to a nearby café, specifically the same one she always begged me to go to, though I doubt she remembers that.
Despite my hunger, I refused. I had to go to the Hokage’s office. I was about to say goodbye when the small child, who had hidden behind Sakura during the conversation, interrupted me.
“I’m Hikari Hyuga! My uncle Naruto has told me many things about you!” the boy said, leaving me slightly stunned for a second. “I’d like to know if all of them are true.”
I noticed the excitement on his innocent face, realizing the undeniable resemblance he had to Sakura despite the hair inherited from his father.
“Hikari, how many times have I told you it’s rude to interrupt someone?” Sakura exclaimed.
“Sorry, Mom.” Hearing him refer to Sakura as Mom still felt unreal to me, a flaw of being absent for so long, I suppose.
I guess I stayed silent for too long, seeing the awkard look on Sakura’s face, so I thought it best to leave, though not before saying goodbye.
“Someday I’ll tell you the things I did, Hikari. Behave yourself with your mother,” I said, ruffling his hair.
Finally, I said goodbye to Sakura with a hug that lasted longer than it should and headed toward the Hokage Tower, with Naruto waiting for my arrival.
Before I could turn the corner, I felt someone approaching Sakura. To my misfortune, it was her husband and the father of her children.
Neji Hyuga.
God knows whether it was self-contempt or morbid curiosity, but I decided to watch from the shadows as he approached Sakura with a pink-haired baby in his arms. He planted a light kiss on her lips, with Hikari making a disgusted face. That was enough for the urge to run and take Sakura far away to rush through my body, but I decided to do the exact opposite and quickly head to my destination.
When I arrived at the tower, Naruto greeted me cheerfully with open arms, taking a break from all the paperwork.
While we chatted, I couldn’t help but notice a package of fresh strawberries, the smell flooded the office.
“Who are the strawberries for?” I asked.
“UGH! I forgot to deliver the strawberries to Neji. He did me a favor by taking care of Boruto a few days ago, and I promised I’d bring them to him,” Naruto replied, grabbing his head as he complained. "Can you believe it? Neji, of all people, loves strawberries?"
I was left petrified, and many things suddenly made sense. But the most important realization was understanding that Sakura hadn’t been mine for a long time, and that she had long since stopped smelling like cherries, just as I had long since stopped smelling like coffee.