Chapter 115: Illusion

After the dinner over at Sakura's house, Sasuke hadn't really bothered himself with the concept of Sakura's father coming to stay with them at the Uchiha manor. Of course he wasn't happy about it, as he had told Sakura, but it was a test, he had decided, and once it was over with, he wouldn't have to deal with any more problems from her father. The matter was put out of his head for the time being, as he focused instead on the training that was presented to him—in fact, the only reminder he received about Wednesday night, was the fact that Sakura was somewhat agitated, and her charka signature had changed slightly to match her underlying mood. However, she had not once spoken about Wednesday until supper on Tuesday night.

He himself was in a relatively good mood, having finally managed to break through Sakura's highest level of chakra masking that very afternoon. Even now as she sat across the table from him, with her guard at its maximum, he could still sense the gentle chakra flickering opposite him. Feeling rather proud of himself, he finished up the meal that was sitting in front of him, prodding carefully in the bowl to make sure that he hadn't missed anything in the bottom. It had been silent between them while they were eating, and he could tell that something was bothering his kunoichi companion, but he did not make note of it, hoping that whatever was the matter would go away.

"I think we should start sleeping in separate rooms," Sakura stated calmly after a while, breaking the quietness of the room.

Sasuke paused in his exploration of the bowl with the utensils in his hands, a frown coming across his face. "I don't want you to," he told her abruptly, the words just slipping out of his mouth, realizing too late what he had just said.

He felt the back of his neck getting warm as Sakura's gaze fell on him; he knew she was surprised, which was understandable, seeing as he had just surprised himself. Knowing that there was no further comment he could make to correct his blunt statement, he decided to say nothing else, knowing it would only damage the situation even more. He supposed it was true, the fact that he didn't want her to move to another room—not just yet—he didn't want to face his nightmares alone. It was a bit ironic that he would only grudgingly admit to himself that he didn't want her to go, when he had just admitted it out loud without thinking. His good mood fouled.

Sakura was quiet for a moment longer, the ambiance of the room seeming to change from surprised to sullen. "I know you don't," was all she said in reply.

"Then why?" he demanded; he was growing angry because the smallest seed of worry had sprouted up in him. What was wrong? What had he done to drive her away? He began to question whether he had somehow crossed the fine line that became visible every time he woke to find that she had once again warded away his troubled dreams.

"My father," she responded quietly, "He's coming over tomorrow night, you know."

"I thought that your parents were aware of the accommodation arrangements?" he spoke curtly, his anger rising, his worry completely gone at this point. He wasn't angry with Sakura, he was angry because of the fact that her father was the cause of her moving, yet he found himself taking it out on Sakura. The fact that he was doing so irked him further, not helping in the least.

"They are…it's just that we've been living together for a while, and I think that people would expect us to be sleeping in separate rooms by now," she explained patiently, calmly, but the doleful undertone suggested that she herself did not want to move either, "And we're going to have to get used to sleeping in separate rooms eventually, because we both know I'm not going to be here forever. I just thought that tomorrow night is as good as any night to start."

He said nothing to her words, knowing perfectly well that they were true. But that did not make him any happier with the notion. So what if she had to move out eventually? That did not necessarily mean that she had to switch rooms until that day. When she had first told him that she would have to stay in his room, he had not liked the idea, but now, almost unwillingly, he found himself liking her presence. Contradicting thoughts often filled his mind in the morning when he heard her joints cracking from the awkward sitting positions she often fell asleep in. She wasn't getting enough rest because of him, but she banished away the hated nightmares, and for that he was thankful.

He contemplated this in his mind, doubt beginning to come to him. Maybe it would be better for her to move rooms, he thought bitterly, after all, she would be able to get a better night's sleep. As a result, she could help him in the day without fatigue overcoming her. But on the other hand…to face the nightmares alone? His thoughts now negated one another and he didn't know what to think anymore.

"Do you want to move to another room?" he asked her. He shouldn't be the one to choose between her bettered sleep and his desire for her to stay close by—he knew that he would end up making the more selfish of the two choices.

A sigh. "No—I don't. But it you yourself who said we can't keep doing this, Sasuke. And what will you do when I have to move out for good and you are left by yourself?"

"Don't worry about me," he replied gruffly, his mood dark and brooding now. She did not want to move, but she was doing what he could not: do what she had to, despite what she wanted.

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