Fair warning: The rating will probably go up in the future. Currently rated for language, scenes and violence. Read at your own discretion.

It's a game of cat and mouse,
But nobody can win.
But above all, she's destined to lose.

Chapter 1

Onyx met emerald.

Gasping, the pink haired kunoichi woke with a start.

The same dark ceiling greeted her as it had the previous night and most nights she spent sleeping in her bed. Much to her chagrin, it remained the same boring shade of gray. Sakura sighed; of course it was still the same colour. It was merely her impractical wish for it to change so she'd have a reminder that no, she wasn't just awakened by the same nightmare, again. Years ago, when the nightmare first placed itself into her subconscious, nostalgia and despair would follow without fault in the morning. But now, the pain from that wound had dulled to something bearable, and she was simply annoyed by these nightly reminders of her past.

But undoubtedly, tonight was going to be one of those nights. Unconsciously, her slender fingers clenched the orange sheets (a gift from Naruto she couldn't bear to throw away, despite its obvious tackiness) tighter in her hand, her mind wandering back to the dream. She knew the dream as well, or perhaps even better than, as she knew reality. But sometimes, no matter how much she tried to suppress it...the scene that had replayed itself repeatedly within the world of her subconscious shook her more than she would care to admit.

The antagonist of her dreams remained as handsome as he had all those years ago. Time had distorted his flawless features in her memory, but it seemed her traitorous mind could do no better than give him an even more flawless complexion. Even seven years after his betrayal, Uchiha Sasuke still found a way to plague her mind nightly.

But she would be damned if she shed another tear for the bastard.

Swinging her legs off the edge of her queen sized bed, she stretched her cramped limbs out, her hands reaching towards the ceiling as she stifled a yawn. Her room was sparsely decorated – she hardly spent any time at home after all. With the war looming close on the horizon, ANBU were high in demand – or more specifically, she was in high demand. A world class medic of her calibre with combat skills up to par was mostly unheard of. To the best of her knowledge, she was pretty much one of a kind, having trained under the legendary Godaime and all.

She forced herself to move to the tiny bathroom before her eyes could settle on the only other piece of furniture in the room. Her actions were futile, as the picture was long embedded into the depths of her mind, but she was stubborn. Mere feet away from the bed, the dresser stood, taunting her. The three pictures standing erect atop the bureau were three of her most prized possessions, yet...they brought her so much sorrow, she was hard pressed to believe she was a closet masochist.

On the left, the picture of her and Naruto bickering in Ichiraku just weeks ago; on the right, the picture of Team 7, complete with Sai and Yamato. And in the middle-

Her fingers clenched into a fist as the image resurfaced in her mind; the ever so cherished genin photo. She kept it there not because she needed a reminder of Sasuke's face. Her nightmares did a sufficient job of that. No, she kept them there because she loved their genin years for their childish innocence, ignorance and happiness. She smiled wryly. Sasuke once said to her that knowledge was power, and she had willingly believed it. She still believed it, but she also knew now that ignorance meant bliss.

Sometimes she pondered what it would be like to not know this lifestyle. To be ignorant of this life of power, killing and constant danger. Perhaps it would've been peaceful. Perhaps she could've found a husband to love, and had a loving family of three children. She shook her head softly to herself; despite everything, she loved her life. She would not change her lifestyle for anything. She would live fighting for her country, and she would die that way as well.

In five quick strides her long legs brought her to the humble bathroom adjoined to her equally pathetic bedroom – a little shoebox with a shower, toilet, mirror and sink. The size wasn't usually an issue with Sakura – in fact, she preferred it this way. But always after these nightmares, she did her best to avert her apple green orbs from the square mirror. Her attempts to avoid her after nightmare reflection were never overly successful – small as it was, the mirror was basically the whole wall.

In reality, she didn't need to look in the mirror to know how she looked at this time.

She knew her cheeks would be overly hollow, and the bags under her eyes overly dark. Her cherry locks would be limp and glistening with sweat and her lips would be cracked and dry. But that didn't bother her – a quick shower and her ANBU mask would do the trick to fix that.

It was the one thing that could give away a human soul in an instant; the one feature people had that made them vulnerable to so much. Eyes – the portal to the soul, if she felt exerting herself and being poetic. It scared her to know that her apple green orbs would be darkened into a murky forest green – and inside that deep colour would be so much horror, anxiety, and sorrow. But most of all, it would show the broken soul inside.

Call it denial, but she wasn't willing to accept that she was still broken.

All too willingly, she sidestepped into the shower, her clothes dropping to the tiled floor in one smooth movement. Graceful movements were just one of the good side effects of being a kunoichi. It was ironic, really. To have that kind of beauty and grace in movement, only to use it for less...refined deeds expected of a kunoichi.

Outside her slightly ajar door, she could see the faintest traces of sunlight streaming through her half shuttered blinds. She no longer gave thought to it anymore. Like how the sun rose every morning, Naruto would be in her living room every morning like clockwork, and they'd leave in silence to their bridge.

But he was away on a mission, and would be away for an undetermined amount of time.

She had to squash the nagging trace of OCD within her that brought her unease at the divergence from tradition. She had long since gotten used to the lonely life this path would bring her, but she still missed him every time. A lot. Sighing to herself again, she forced herself to turn the shower knob. She only had an hour and a half left before her scheduled training session, and she was not about to allow herself to be late. She might've been Kakashi's student for four years and his comrade for another three, but she would be damned if all his bad habits rubbed off on her.

Especially since his morning ritual had already rubbed off on both her and Naruto.

Careful to avoid the small mirror, she walked out silently to the corner where her training clothes were piled in a bunch. The sudden change in temperature brought goose bumps over her silky skin, but she ignored it. Small, trivial things like that, things she would've complained about as a pre-teen, were nothing now.

She was different now, and she knew it. She'd become stronger beyond her imagination, yes. But nothing came without a price, and power held a hefty price tag. At the tender age of nineteen, she'd already seen things far beyond her years, and perhaps, even beyond her lifetime.

But she was in no position to judge, as she'd inflicted that kind of de-virginizing of innocence on countless others before.

In this profession, it was all a matter of perspective.

She dressed quickly, slipping the black tank top over her head with ease. She'd forgone the red years ago; her hair already did a wonderful job of making her stick out like a sore thumb – she didn't need her clothes adding to the fact. The short spandex shorts she reserved for training followed, hugging her butt snugly. Twelve-year old Sakura would've been mortified, yet inwardly pleased with this excessive amount of exposed skin for the world to see, her self-consciousness conflicting with her feminine vanity. But she was no longer that girl, and she didn't dress to please.

It was what she could move around best in, and therefore enhanced her training sessions all the more. Hastily, she strapped her kunai holster onto her right thigh before poofing out with a simple teleportation jutsu.

Sakura cursed as she was once again forced to hide in the bushes as he demolished yet another bunshin.

Damn that Hyuuga. It was their odd day spar; he had to relinquish the use of his doujutsu, as long as she restrained from shattering him into a million little pieces with her monstrous fists. Everything else was fair game. Sakura had learned the hard way the first time they sparred like this that his Byakagun was not what made Neji the shinobi he was. In fact, she mused that he would be just as great without it, something she greatly respected him for.

Power was only real when it didn't come from the crutches that held one up.

Sakura didn't react until she was already pinned down to the ground, his kunai flirting dangerously with her jugular. She blinked up at him, momentarily confused, before mentally berating herself like a mother chastising a child. How could she have been so careless as to let her mind wander off? That was so...genin. If it had been a real battle, she would've been dead ten times over already.

"Sakura," said Neji, offering his hand to the floored girl. Unsurprisingly, she ignored it and sprang to her feet of her own accord. "Are you okay? You seem...distracted, as of late."

If it had been any other situation, she would've laughed at how uncomfortable the soon to be Hyuuga patriarch looked. She knew showing concern like this was not in his element, at all, and was touched he tried. They'd dated once, about fourteen months ago. But with the impending war, and lack of real passion so to speak, their romantic interests in each other diminished, but the platonic love (though he'd be damned if he would admit it) beneath was stronger than ever, even now.

She nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine. It's just...that, you know? I'll be okay."

There was a slight flicker in his pale orbs, but it was gone in a blink. He was one of the few that were privy to the content of her constant nightmares, but that topic hadn't come up between them for the past half year. He'd hoped, if it was any indication that it was over for good.

Apparently not.

"Perhaps you should consult the Godaime again."

She shook her head slightly. "Shishou doesn't need anything else to worry over. Stone and Cloud are practically jumping our border."

He had marvelled once at how selfless the girl standing before him was. He speculated that even if she was dying, she wouldn't ask for help if it meant risking the other person. It was less apparent in Konoha where bonds were embedded deep into the hearts of most, but he knew many who would save self above all others. It was self-preservation, after all.

His internal amazement was carefully free from his face, and he offered her a small nod both in acknowledgement of her declaration and to inform her their session was over. "Shall we go to lunch then, Sakura?"

A small smile lit up her slightly muddied face at the mention of the finale of their training regime. It had long become habit, at least three times a week when they were both home, with the winner choosing their lunch destination. Given, Neji got to choose most days, and she was thankful he was not a ramen nut (oraddicted to any one type of food), like Naruto was.

It was comforting routine, just as the silence on their walk there was comforting and not awkward in the least.

He was never good at small talk, and she had long ago forgiven him for it, after his many awkward attempts during their relationship. It was the thought that counted. She always felt calm and safe on their walks; no words needed to be exchanged. They just understood each other.

The small tea shop came into view seconds later, located conveniently (and not so conveniently sometimes) across from Ichiraku. Whenever they frequented there when Naruto was in town, the blonde would always harass the Hyuuga about 'stealing his Sakura-chan', seeing as he practically lived in the ramen store.

But he wasn't here, and neither was Kakashi, who would sometimes join in on the harassment, albeit in typical Kakashi fashion. Aka, stand and glare, and occasionally share a cryptic comment or two. They were both away on missions, as was Sai. Sakura felt her heart sink slightly at the thought. Despite their obvious strength and power, she couldn't help but worry about her boys.

"Neji-san, Sakura-san," the maître d' greeted with a small bow, ushering them to their customary window table in the furthermost corner. "The usual today?"

Sakura nodded before sliding into her seat across Neji. "Thanks, Aina."

A comfortable silence settled over them again, but Neji shifted awkwardly in his seat. Sakura knew it was in anticipation of something he was rather dreading to say. "We can...talk about it, if you would like."

Sakura chuckled. "Thanks, Neji. But this," she gestured lightly to their general surrounding. Neji knew she wasn't referring to the teahouse, but of his presence. "Is enough already."

"Aa."

"So," she trailed off, a mischievous gleam appearing in her apple orbs. "I saw you with Eriko-san the other day..."

Neji froze at the pinkette's words, but she was casually sipping her genmaicha, looking as innocent as ever. "That was-"

Both shinobi froze as a foreign presence materialized at their table. The masked man inclined his head at them in respect before turning to face Sakura fully. "Haruno-san. Hokage-sama requests your presence at the hospital immediately."

The blood drained from Sakura's face as the words left the ANBU's mouth. There was only one reason Tsunade would summon her to the hospital like this. Her mentor never summoned her with such urgency unless it was a grave situation regarding her teammates.

Kakashi's team was back.

Sakura shot the Hyuuga an apologetic look, and barely missed the look of half concealed concern on the man's face. Inwardly grateful for his subtle understanding, she could only thank him within her mind as she rushed out of the restaurant in a flurry of pink and black.

The next few minutes were a blur to her as she fought her hardest to arrive at the hospital without pulverizing unsuspecting civilians on the way, and arrived within minutes at the Emergency Ward. She was thoroughly breathless, but paid herself no heed. There was no questioning her suspicions now; she could feel the faint chakra signatures of her boys just beyond the thin wall of the operating room that separated them.

Their very faint chakra signatures.

Without a second's hesitation, the determined medic shoved her way into the operating room only to have her heart drop a further hundred meters at the sight before her.

"Sakura-sama!" a frazzled nurse sighed in relief at seeing their head medic. "The seals have all been drawn; Hokage-sama is waiting for you to begin the process."

Sakura nodded curtly to the small redhead before settling herself opposite from Tsunade. Even without looking, Sakura knew her shishou would have an aura of calm and professionalism surrounding her being. She tried her hardest to do the same; professional behaviour in such matters was of utmost importance. It had been one of her first and foremost lessons. She had sworn that day, that even if Naruto and Kakashi lay in a bloody heap on the operating seals, her professional demeanour would not waver.

Oh, how she wished she had sworn on something less morbid and heartbreaking that day. Perhaps if she hadn't jinxed it that day, two of her most precious people wouldn't be lying in a dead heap on said operating seals. Tsunade's barely perceptible nod shook her from her temporary reverie and she steeled herself for the next six, possibly seven hours.

She would save them, even if it killed her.

Ten hours later, the thoroughly exhausted and chakra depleted team of assembled medics exited Operation Room Three – but the satisfied atmosphere surrounding each and every one of them was unmistakable. Sakura nodded to her shishou when the busty blonde headed the other way, no doubt to her personal quarters for some well deserved rest. Honestly, she wanted nothing more than to hug her mother figure into oblivion, and cry tears of immeasurable joy at having brought her boys back from Satan's door.

But as it were, she barely had enough energy left to keep herself standing.

Staggering slightly under the weight of her own body, a thin arm shot out with impeccable timing to steady herself against the wall just as her legs gave way beneath her. With a quiet grunt, she caved to the fact that there would be no comforting, yet horrendous, orange sheets for her to sink into tonight. Her home was a disappointing ten minute walk from her workplace, and the medic in her knew better than to attempt the stupid.

Passing out on her stiff office couch would be better than dropping unconscious in the middle of the street at one in the morning, after all.

Using the stale white walls to balance, the fatigued woman trudged towards her office on the floor above. She looked nothing like the fearsome kunoichi she was now, her vibrant cerise locks were limp and sticking to her forehead, the twin sparkling emeralds that had captured the hearts of so many, reduced to a dull, almost unseeing green.

But even in her current state, the nurses knew better than to help their head medic. The headstrong woman hated any semblance of weakness – no doubt a legacy from her genin years, and would jump up from the dead, they suspected, if someone so much as hinted she was still a weakling.

And so they watched, a mixture of disbelief and awe in their eyes, as she trudged slowly towards the elevator. Her chakra had been the only constant source throughout the entire procedure. The Godaime had been forced to take a break at the seven hour mark – the nurses had watched in wry amusement as she declared that her 'old bones could stand no more'. Despite her sarcastic comment, it was obvious her chakra supply was flirting dangerously close to the zero mark.

Fearsome as she was, there was no doubt she was loved by her subordinates at the hospital. The air of respect for the blonde woman was unanimous among those who worked there. Her lively nature and young outward appearance had fooled their memory, if only temporarily.

It was hard to remember that the Godaime was in fact, getting old.

It was a taboo topic, but it went unsaid that the prime of her days were over. She hid it well with her seemingly permanent henge of herself – but it was little things like this that plunged them back down to the harsh reality. Young looking as she was, the reality remained that the woman beneath was nearing sixty. Legendary Sannin indeed, it was so rare of shinobi of any calibre, let alone hers, to live to such an age.

It was an unsettling realization. This woman, this fearsome kunoichi, was unable to do things she once was, stumped by age. Her chakra reserves were no longer as massive as they had been; her stamina and energy were slowly, but surely draining away.

These facts had not escaped Sakura.

To the rest that were merely acquainted with the Hokage, it was saddening to see the woman slowly lose the battle with old age. But for Sakura, the same fear that had gripped her when her mother was diagnosed with an untreatable illness once again crawled over her being and held her tightly within its grasp.

Tsunade was like a mother to her.

Hell, Tsunade was her surrogate mother. And this slow, but sure degeneration of her abilities and her life was frightening. It was unlike the fear she had when facing off with Sasori years ago – fear for her life maybe, but the adrenaline had quickly flushed any remnants of fear from her system.

But this-

Sakura knew that if the blonde left her now, the hole within her would never be closed. Her already raw heart had never been stitched together perfectly – the seams still showed, and another loss would just rip it open again completely.

And no amount of sewing would be able to fix her then.

Sakura shook her head. What was she thinking? Tsunade still had a lot of kick left in her – there was no time for moping. She would do what she had always done. Use herself to save those things that mattered the most to her. She had done it even back then in their genin days. Stepping between the two heart brothers on top of this very hospital – between their Chidori and Rasengan. She had done it then, and she would do it again.

But this time, it would not be just stepping stupidly into her death. It had been the most her abilities allowed back then – but no longer. This time around, she would put everything her seven years as a shinobi had given her. She would not lose anyone else.

Eyes fluttering shut, the kunoichi allowed the blackness to envelope her as she pitched forward onto the awaiting couch.

Her slumber had been blissfully void of any Uchiha.

She owed it to the fatigue for the lack of the signature nightmare. It was already nearing noon the next day; the midday position of the glaring sun showered her small living room/kitchen in its golden glow. Predictably, she had woken up with her body sore from the awkward position she had fallen to. Thankfully, her chakra had been replenished to at least three quarters of her usual capacity, and that was more than enough for her to move around.

As soon as she had relieved the tension in her joints, she was out the window and flying to her small apartment. She pushed away the small voice of a repressed Inner Sakura snickering hypocrite at her – for she had already lost count of the amount of times she had reprimanded Neji and Kakashi for leaving the hospital in such an unorthodox manner.

With the small amount of chakra she had pushed into the soles of her feet, she made the journey that should've taken her ten minutes, in a mere four. Even her small shower had been a relief then, and the rejuvenated woman stepped out her bathroom with a new resolve.

It was a risk she was willing to take. Her mind had moved on autopilot, her hands packing the necessities she needed to survive. One set of clothing aside from the ANBU gear she donned already, two weapon scrolls and multiple medical scrolls, some of the money she had saved up over her career, and a whole lot of soldier pills.

She fought back the scowl at the sight of the pills, but she had no choice. Food took up too much space, and didn't provide her with half as much fuel as the one small pill did. Sparing her shoebox of a room one last wistful glance, she allowed her emerald orbs to linger on her beloved frames for a second too long.

They would stay here, in the safety of her home.

Sakura lifted the small pack into her arms, shutting the door behind her with a barely inaudible click. Her silent footfalls lead her to her small joined kitchen/living room, and she plopped down on to the small island bar stool. The small, still steaming cup of coffee in front of her sat forgotten as she stared out the large windows that almost eclipsed her living room wall.

She would miss this, would miss the bustling Konoha street on which her humble apartment was situated. Blowing out another sigh, she shouldered the pack, her standard ANBU issue katana strapped tightly to it. She had forgone the cloak; the end of spring, pre-summer weather of Konoha had eliminated the need to wear such heavy garb. It lay in a neat pile at the very bottom of her pack.

As soon as she had snapped the delicate porcelain mask over her face, the kunoichi was flying towards the Hokage tower.

She was almost positive her shishou would say yes. The Hokage had mentioned something in passing just weeks ago of similar nature, but neither kunoichi had wanted to expand, for the magnitude of consequences from such a mission would be endless.

But now, there was nothing Sakura wanted to do more. Giving the bored looking Izumo a nod, she treaded silently to the Hokage's door. She knocked only for the sake of formality; she knew Tsunade would be alone in there. She swung the door open delicately a moment later, stepped in, and bowed before closing the door shut behind her.

Tsunade looked more haggard than Sakura could dig up in recent memory, but shoved that thought aside. Slipping her mask to the side of her neck, Sakura trained her wary emerald eyes on her mentor.

"You're sure about this?" Tsunade asked quietly, her voice tired. The fatigue in her voice was not from the strenuous procedure the night before, but of a world-weary woman tired of all the bullshit this life offered. Sakura nodded slowly.

"Like you said before shishou," Sakura replied, "I'm the only one fit for this job."

"I know, but-" the blonde Hokage heaved another sigh, the reluctance clear in her troubled hazel orbs. "It's dangerous. And you'd be alone."

It was a last ditch attempt to sway the pink haired woman standing before her, and she knew it was a pathetic, futile attempt. If anything, her apprentice had inherited her pig-headedness. "I'm sure, shishou."

Tsunade nodded, and pulled the scroll sitting before her open. She had anticipated this moment. It was just like Sakura to sacrifice herself to save what mattered most to her. She cleared her throat. "Haruno Sakura. This mission, should you choose to accept it, is S-Class, and of the utmost importance."

Sakura gave her an expectant look. Tsunade resisted the urge to sigh again; she was starting to sound like that Nara brat. Throwing the scroll at her surrogate daughter, the feeling of deep seated regret within her only grew. She watched as Sakura tucked the scroll away into her hip pouch, not bothering to look at it. She knew what it said, after all. The mission had been presented to her but three weeks back. Back then, they had both deemed it as an unnecessary sacrifice.

But now, in the face of new the developments, she had no choice.

Sakura bit back the rising tears, and rushed forward to envelope the older woman in a fierce hug. "Take care, shishou. Look after those stupid boys of mine while I'm gone, will you?"

Tsunade grumbled something incoherent, along the lines of 'too much trouble'. Grunting in true Tsunade fashion, the busty blonde crushed the petite girl closer to her frame. "Be careful, Sakura."

With a last squeeze, Sakura gave her mother figure a small wave, swallowing the lump that had formed in her throat before disappearing through her oak door. When Izumo saw her emerge from the staircase, the chuunin could tell something was off. The usually vivacious kunoichi he and Kotetsu had come to love to flirt and banter with noncommittally was unusually sombre. He stopped her with a concerned gaze and swept her into a brief hug.

"Careful, Sakura," he said. It was obvious she had an unpleasant mission ahead, and he had an inkling as to what it entailed. He had seen Kakashi's team being dragged back last night; he knew how protective she was of her friends, especially her team.

"Bye," she whispered before combusting into a flurry of cherry blossoms. He gave the pile of fluttering cherry blossoms a wry glance before resuming his post. She would return home.

Five minutes away, back at the hospital, Sakura bent down to give her blonde heart brother a chaste kiss on the forehead. Hinata was nowhere to be found, visiting hours wouldn't be for another thirty minutes, and she was glad. She swept some of the blonde hair away from his bandaged face, burning his image into her brain. She bent down to hug him briefly before moving on to Kakashi and Sai.

None of them would wake up for another day. The amount of anaesthesia in their system could knock out an elephant, and she was relieved. Goodbyes were hard. She didn't want to imagine Naruto's worried words and fierce hugs, Kakashi's concerned eye, and Sai's lack of a false smile at her departure. Seeing her boys one last time before she left was enough.

Sweeping her twin emeralds over their battered bodies one last time, she got up and silently moved towards the door. She was sure they'd be angry when they woke up to find her gone. She chuckled to herself lightly when the image of a bandaged and thoroughly mummified Naruto berating an irritated Tsunade for letting Sakura leave like that floated into her mind.

She would miss their everyday banter, their morning walks to the old Team Seven bridge, training with Neji, eating lunch at their customary tea shop.

The looming gates came into view minutes later, and she fought the feeling of nostalgia fighting to hold her in its iron grip. There would be no turning back once she stepped foot outside of those gates; home would be but a distant memory for an undetermined amount of time.

Sparing a nod at the chuunin guards, Sakura leapt into the lush forests of Fire Country.

Even when she was just a silhouette of pink and billowing onyx against the varying luscious shades of emerald around her, she never looked back.

A/N: Second chapter should be up shortly. Not much happened in this chapter, but it's necessary to introduce the situation. The real action should start in the next (next) chapter. Anyone upset at this being written again, you'll notice that it's drastically different from what I had before. I decided to change the course of this story, so here it is. Please review if you liked it (and even if you didn't - constructive criticism, please)! They make my heart soar and encourages me to write all the more. Press that little button down there & make me a happy girl :)

And huge thanks to my wonderful betas Starchii & Bethany. Fixed up all my stupid little mistakes.