Work Text:
"I'm sorry." The words are thick and clumsy as he says them. They always ring false, no matter how often he has heard them, and it is only now, when he has to say them, that he realizes their meaning.
Sakura says nothing, her eyes still on the urn in her hands, fingers trembling as she tries to calm down. He watches the tremor on her throat, her erratic pulse, as she brushes the edges of her hair away from her nape.
When her body stills, she finally raises her head, looking at him. "I know."
Perhaps she is tired of the I'm sorrys, just as he was. Her mouth is a tight line, eyes glistening with unshed tears as she stands strong. "Thank you for coming."
There is something dismissive in her words, something that tells him to leave her.
He has never been good at listening to requests.
Moving closer, he sits beside her on the wooden chairs that mar her living room. His shoulder bumps against hers as he seats himself, and if it is intentional he will never say. The room is empty now, friends and family already gone, and only the urn in her hands and Sasuke to keep her company.
"He wasn't supposed to die so early." Her voice is angry, fire laced in the words. "I was going to be the first to graduate from university and work at Tsunade's hospital and become the section head and Dad...." Her tirade stops at that word, at that thought, and he can see the cracks before she can even feel them.
Her arms wrap around the urn, tighter, her head bowed as she tries to continue. "Dad would..." her voice is a whisper now.
Watching her, he finishes her thought. "He would have been proud."
Closing her eyes, she raises her head. A weak smile covers her face. "He would have been. Would have baked a cake and cracked my ribs with a hug."
And when she breaks, he helps her collect the pieces.