Disclaimer: Naruto is the property of Masashi Kishimoto and Shonen Jump.
Stuff: Uh, dunno where the idea came from I woke up kinda delirious this morning? Takes place sometime post three year jump. It's one of my first good stabs at oneshot fanfiction, so be gentle.
Vision blurring through the thick cloud of tears, she wiped her eyes on a blood stained sleeve, smearing a faint crimson smudge across her dirt stained cheek. She had finished the jutsu circle, lacing the intricate pattern with a fair bit of chakra.
Sakura absently wet her split, cracked lip, oblivious to the stinging sensation the action created. She began thrusting her arms upon her subject, emotion altering the precise amounts of chakra she was supposed to be channeling defibrillator style.
It wasn't supposed to be this way. The blood was caked inside her fingernails, her arms and clothes stained in crimson. Virtually none of it was her own.
He didn't even have the chance to talk to her, acknowledge her. Three years, without more than a meaningful glance aimed in her direction, and this was how she found contact after so long, by attempting to rekindle the spirit of a dying shell.
They had arrived to watch his form plummet to the ground, dark skin of the monster fading from a distance. That was how he had changed. How he had sought power.
Her features distorted by a sickened frown, she huffed, sending another jab at her comatose former comrade, his face etched in determination even while unconscious. He responded with a shuddered intake of breath. Sakura's face broke into a shaky grin, eyes watering up again.
"See Sasuke, I'm not useless anymore." The words came out in a bare whisper.
The silent young man propped himself up with his uninjured arm, or perhaps less injured appendage, breathing labored.
Hopefully this time she could prove herself to him. Prove herself as a healer. As a fellow warrior. If strength was all he respected, she would pledge hers to him in order to gain his returned affections. She would show him her capability.
But now wasn't the time for displays of bravado. "Here, let me help you."
The pink haired medic-nin began to offer back support only to be shushed away by a the Uchiha's other, mangled, hand.
"Oh Sasuke, no. I haven't healed that yet." She gave a gentle, nonthreatening gesture. "Give me your arm."
His response came in a strangled gurgle. Glassy obsidian eyes turned towards her, unfocused.
She gasped, "I haven't finished healing you yet. You should probably lay back down."
Instead, he stood, giving Sakura another strange gurgle. Blood oozed out of a gash across his neck.
She moved towards him. "Sasuke," she paused, uncertain, "you need help."
He moved towards her, movements hindered. The drying wounds across his torso and limbs became slick with fresh blood. His appendages were a mangled mess. She tried catching the delirious ninja.
He groaned at her. It almost sounded angry. "S-Sasuke?"
The porcelain figure continued shambling after her with an awkward, unnatural gait. Obsidian eyes focused on some point that seemed far behind her, or perhaps deep within.
This wasn't how it was supposed to be. He approached, fumbling on the remains of a shredded foot. This was wrong. She began vehemently shaking her head back and forth to accompany the mantra.
He groaned again. Backing away in terror, the tears flowed freely, face paling in stark horror. He sounded hungry.
This couldn't be real. Sasuke lunged. Sakura shut her eyes.
She wouldn't see the sun tanned fist that collided with the abomination's jaw.
Zombie Sasuke, anyone?