The culmination of my Valentine's Day posting spree! A special treat for everyone else out there who ships my newest ship: ShiSaku! Or CSaku, whatever floats your boat.

Song: The first section is heavily inspired by Kelly Clarkson's song Irvine. As in, that was why I started this. And it kind of evolved and grew from there.

Warning: I haven't actually read much farther in the manga than Naruto meeting the other bijuu, so I... don't actually know what all is going on. Ergo, this is a semi-possible (I think) scenario that occurs after everyone groups together to beat the crap out of Tobi, which I can only assume has happened. And yes, I am currently in the process of catching up, but I'm re-reading from the Kage Summit (to see more of Shi) so it's taking a while.

Also, I don't often write in present-tense so it's possible that I slip in and out of it. I tried to catch all instances of such a thing, but I'm just not sure. If you see one, please let me know! And I'll shut up now and let you get on with your reading.

Enjoy!

So this is war.

To be quite frank, Sakura is not certain exactly how long she has been laying there. Footsteps reach her ears and Sakura opens her eyes to see a blond man standing several meters away. Her lips part a little in silent surprise that matches his own raised brows. There is blood on his hands and face, but none of it appears to be his. Only a second later he is crossing the space between them and dropping to his knees, a hand landing on her torn chest, just under her collar bones. Chakra, cool and soothing on her ragged wound, makes her sigh, which in turn causes her to bite back a cry of pain.

"Don't worry," he tells her, "I'm a medic. I can heal you."

That much is obvious she thinks, and opens her mouth to speak only to have blood spill past her lips and slide down her cheek.

"It looks as though you've taken some severe damage," he says very calmly, "were you on the front lines?"

Always, Sakura thinks, and manages a slow blink.

"I'll take that as a yes," he mutters, and she's rather impressed. Not that he understood—she's fairly sure he didn't—but that he's kept his sense of humor through the violence all around them. Though really, it's quite some ways away, isn't it? She was thrown a fair distance.

Sakura is very thankful that he stumbled upon her. If he hadn't, she would probably be dead in a few more minutes, and she doesn't want to die.

Sakura only realizes she has spoken aloud—that he has healed her enough to enable speech—when he asks, "Any particular reasons? Aside from the general not-wanting-to-be-dead thing?"

As a matter of fact. There are several she can think of, distantly, but the immediate concern that pops into her head is childish, frivolous, and embarrassing. "... It's so stupid," she whispers at length, and the other medic-nin swallows, then shakes his head.

"I'm sure it isn't," he answers softly, and she feels his chakra spread farther across her side as he slides one hand to her ribcage. Whether that means he's given up on or finished healing the other injury, she can't tell. She can't feel much of anything anymore. Was he using chakra to numb her pain? "Tell me."

A wry smile curves bloody lips, the taste of copper thick on her tongue. "It's silly... and maybe immature... but I don't want to die 'cuz I... haven't even been kissed..."

"Really?" he asks, and his voice is lighter than his hands on her side. "You're very cute. I'm surprised."

"Thanks... I think." She almost wants to laugh at the absurdity of being complimented while filthy and bleeding to death. "I was... waiting, you know... 'cuz it's supposed to be special... memorable... Wish I hadn't, now."

"I will never understand women. Waiting for what?"

She has known from the second she saw his vest he is from Kumo and that being honest is risking him pulling away. She speaks regardless. "For... Sasuke. I... used to love him. My teammate..."

To his credit, all the man does is frown, little white lines etching themselves around his mouth. "You're from Konoha." For a moment, that seems to be all he will say. Exhaling sharply, he eventually asks, "Then you're also teamed with the Kyuubi jinchuuriki, aren't you?" She makes a soft humming sound of affirmation. "That makes you Haruno Sakura, the Hokage's apprentice?" Again, that small, odd smile flickers over his lips. "I'm one of the Raikage's bodyguards."

"Imagine that," leaves her lips on an exhale. She's very glad that he's not the type to let a grudge against one person stop him from healing another. "Weird that the two of us would end up here. Two Kage's closest shinobi."

He meets her eyes for the first time in several long minutes. "Yes. It is." A beat. "Aren't you a medic?"

"I can't move my hands. Or feel most of my body."

"Ah." Silence falls between them, and distantly Sakura can hear that the battle is still raging.

"You shouldn't be here," she tells him, "The others need you more."

His answer is firm and swift. "I doubt that very much. You're one of the best medics in this war and we'll need you to help everyone else recover when they're done. To that end, it's in everyone's best interest that I heal you now." He fixes his eyes on her shoulder and rests a hand on either side of yet another injury. This one, at least, she remembers receiving. It was from Sasuke, after all. Better yet, she can feel it knit together, warmth flowing under her skin as he repairs the damages. "If you die, we're all essentially screwed. I'm man enough to admit that. You're very much needed, Sakura."

"Such familiarity."

"Well. You are younger than me."

Letting her eyes slip closed, she asks, "How old are you?"

"Twenty." Another beat. "Practically ancient compared to you."

"I'm not calling you sempai."

"I don't want you to."

"Good." Unsure what to say now, Sakura sighs and is pleased to realize that it doesn't hurt. Methodically, the man heals every injury of note, even brushing his fingers over her brow and eliminating her concussion in seconds. "You're very good."

"And you're healing yourself already." Her eyes flutter open, startled, and he laughs very softly. "Didn't you even notice? I haven't touched the wound on your legs but they're closing up."

"Habit," she muses. "I once had to heal a fatal sword wound while the sword was still in me."

"Ouch."

"Yeah. From Akasuna no Sasori no less, so it was poisoned too."

"Hmm. I'm rather useless when it comes to poisons, to be honest," he confesses, and Sakura smiles.

"I've had a lot of practice. You heal quickly."

"As you said, I've had a lot of practice. I'm a field medic, not a surgeon. Which is why I can say with some authority that you, Sakura, are not going to die today." That said, he lifts his hands, the glow of healing chakra fading as he sits back on his heels. "There. You aren't fully healed, so you shouldn't engage unless you have to, but I think I've done pretty damn well for a quick patch job. How do you feel?"

"Exhausted and dizzy," she tells him dryly. "Blood loss and running on Soldier pills for several days does that to you."

He shrugs, the corner of his mouth kicking up. "True enough. That aside?"

His hand raises and closes around hers as he leans forward to help her sit, and Sakura exhales slowly, testing his repairs. The gash on her chest is fully healed. Her broken ribs are mended. Her legs no longer ache, and she can move—and feel—her hands. "Better. Much better. I'm not in any pain, at the very least. Thank you." She reaches up to slip her other hand around his shoulder, and it doesn't hurt at all when he lifts her to her knees.

One of his hands is warm around hers, slick with blood. The other presses against her back. He is close enough that, when he speaks, his breath warms her cheek. "You're very welcome, Sakura."

There is a moment of stillness, his eyes on hers, before he shrugs a little and leans down. His lips catch and press solidly against hers for a few seconds as he tips his head slightly to one side. When he pulls back, she can see tentative amusement in his dark eyes. "There. You're not going to die, but at least that's taken care of. Can you stand?"

Sakura is frozen in shock for a few seconds before the sheer absurdity of what has just occurred strikes her fully. Wetting her lips, she asks first, "What's your name?"

He blinks at her. "Shi." Nodding, Sakura commits this to memory. He was, after all, her first kiss—and it was a memorable one, indeed. "I thought I mentioned that."

"Nope. Here, please help me up?" She can stand, with his help, and they move warily to the edge of the battlefield, waiting for the moment when the need for medics overcomes the need to keep fighting. They wait for Naruto to win, his arm around her back, hers held across his shoulders, and soon she forgets her brush with death and romance because Naruto needs her.

The next time she sees him, it is at a meeting of the Kages. She is there for Tsunade, and he is there for the Raikage. The meetings are much, much more informal in the wake of the alliance; each village has one side of a large table, and each Kage has one of their shinobi sitting on each side of them. Sakura is on Tsunade's left and on hers is Temari, sitting to Gaara's right. It's symbolic, Sakura supposes. Kankuro sits to his brother's left, and after that is the delegation from Kiri, then Kumo, then Iwa, then Shizune.

Shi is also on the left, where he sits across from her. The Raikage's right hand is a large man with white hair and dark skin who speaks carefully and seems to apologize an awful lot. Next to Shi is a shinobi from Kiri he seems to be comfortable with; maybe they worked together during the war.

Throughout the meeting, Sakura takes notes like the rest of the left-siders. The various Kage's right hands occasionally weigh in on a matter as the leaders themselves bicker with a familiarity and warmth reminiscent of a closely-knit family. Sakura wasn't at the Kage summit or any of the meetings during and leading up to the war, but she is sure they have come a long, long way.

The attendees seem to be an odd mix of bodyguard, student, advisor, and friend; apparently the choice was left very much up to the Kage's discretion. Gaara is outright teaching the Tsuchikage, which is something Sakura never thought she'd live to see. Judging by the bright smile on Temari's face, she is every bit as relieved. He has come farther than anyone, Sakura thinks while reviewing her meticulous record of the conversational topics and decisions. Somehow the conversation dissolved from talking about international borders and the crossing thereof to the young Kazekage wondering aloud why they are called 'Hidden' Villages when they all knew the exact locations of the others and the Tsuchikage puffing his chest and defending the tradition.

From the long-suffering look on Shi's face, it's a conversation they've had many times. He catches her watching him and smiles warmly; Sakura blinks and looks back to her paper, suddenly unable to think of anything but the sensation of his lips on hers.

Hardly conducive to furthering the relations of the various shinobi villages.

"I just want to know," Kankuro cuts in loudly, and Gaara spares him a scathing glance, "what's going to be done about the minor shinobi villages? What happens if they get offended that we didn't involve them in the war?"

Tsunade makes a sharp, thoughtful sound and sits back, drumming her nails on the table. "I hadn't thought of that. There are too many of them for us to ignore completely; it would be begging for trouble."

This is apparently a signal that it's okay for the left-siders to talk, and Shi sets his pen aside. "They should be grateful," he says, voice hard enough that it actually startles Sakura. While healing her, his voice had always seemed rather soothing. "What do you think, Haruno-san?"

Setting aside her own pen, Sakura waves aside the name. "Just Sakura, please. I think you and I are a bit beyond formalities, don't you?"

He shrugs. "I was starting to think you didn't remember me, to be honest."

"You saved my life." Her voice is flat enough to earn a quick look from the blondes on either side of her. "I'm not exactly going to forget you, Shi."

He inclines his head and ignores the blatantly curious looks from many of the other shinobi.

Crossing her legs under the table, Sakura props her elbow on the table and sets her chin in hand, thinking. "As for what I think on the subject... I must say, I agree with you. Once the smaller Hidden Villages realize how awful the war was, they better grateful to have been left out of it. And it's not exactly as though we kept what was happening a secret. I mean, weren't a few of them evacuated?"

Various nods and murmurs go around the table before the girl on the Tsuchikage's left slams a fist onto the desk. "They could have offered their service at any time, but they didn't! If any of them dare try and make trouble for us now, we should squash them flat!"

"Hardly," the Mizukage disagrees swiftly. "That wouldn't help the political climate in the least."

The discussions go from there, turning swiftly into a full-on debate. Sakura is rather pleased to notice that not once is it suggested that the Alliance be dissolved. The shinobi nations have gone from enemies to comrades-in-arms, and that doesn't look to be changing anytime soon.

Shi meets her eyes over their desks and papers, and her breath catches in her throat at the sight of his smile.

The left-siders—Sakura doubts she will ever stop thinking of them like that—gather for dinner that night. They are the odd men out, whether vocal (Kurotsuchi and Kankuro) or meek (Chojuro) or simply relatively quiet (Sakura and Shi). Finding herself tired but amused as the meal winds down and Kankuro's energy spikes higher and higher as he argues with Kurotsuchi (something about Deidara being a "murdering asshole", which Sakura fully agrees with, versus the other girl's opinion that he was simply a "misguided rebel"), Sakura settles back against the wall and watches her old friend with a smile.

Minutes later Shi disengages from his far friendlier discussion with Chojuro and drops himself down to her left, that leg drawn up loosely and an arm draping over it while he sips from a steaming cup of tea. "Hey."

Sakura smiles at him. "Hey yourself." they sit in companionable silence for a while before they both speak at once.

"So what was with throwing me—?"

"How are your injuries—?"

They both stop and chuckle before Sakura gestures for him to go first. "How are your injuries? You look fine; were there any complications after the fact?"

"You just want to know if you missed something," she accuses lightly, and shook her head when he shrugged as though to say and that's a bad thing how? "No. I'm fine. Great, actually."

"I'm glad," he tells her, and looks it. A sip of tea later, he tips his head curiously. "You were saying something...?"

"Oh, yeah," Sakura says blankly, then frowns at him. "You totally threw me to the dogs earlier, in the meeting! What was up with that, you had to know I was barely paying any attention!"

"How could I possibly have known that?" he asks, and holds up a hand when she opens her mouth to respond. "Rhetorical question, Sakura. To answer your question: I honestly wanted to know what you thought about the matter at hand. Once the floor was opened up for us to speak, I saw no reason not to draw you into the conversation. I apologize if that made you uncomfortable, but you seemed fine with it."

Crossing her arms, Sakura blows a strand of hair out of her face. "I am fine with it; it was just unexpected. I didn't expect it. I don't actually mind, though. Besides, it allowed us to clear the air."

"To great interest of our compatriots, I noticed," Shi says with a wry twist to his words.

"What wouldn't be of interest to them? I know for a fact that Kankuro is an incurable gossip."

A slow smile spreads over Shi's face. "If we're being honest... so is Darui."

"Really?" Genuinely surprised, Sakura mulls over the thought. "I never would have guessed."

Taking another drink, the man nods. "He doesn't show it very much; he's learned not to. But he listens very closely—to everything. I have no doubt that he's going to corner me and wrangle out some kind of explanation of our encounter."

Sakura shrugs. "It's not exactly a problem for me. I mean, it is a little embarrassing that I couldn't move enough to heal myself when I'm not supposed to get hit at all, but, well..."

"Sometimes it can't be avoided," Shi finishes for her. "Every so often it becomes more practical for a medic to take a hit for their teammate than it is to take the time to heal them later. I imagine something like that was the cause of your wounds?"

"Oh, two or three of them," she answers vaguely, and they fall once more into silence, watching the others. Conversation is easy with the other nin, Sakura reflects. It came naturally to them during the war as well. "You didn't really think I forgot you, did you?"

"Maybe," he muses. "I was disappointed when you didn't seem to recognize me, but then I realized you spent half the meeting watching me."

"Did not!" she protests, blushing a bit, and he smirks at the sight.

"Yes, you did," he counters smoothly, "I imagine your preoccupation had something to do with the fact that I stole you first kiss?"

Pressing her lips together, Sakura hums a bit before admitting, "Maybe."

He laughs just a little, and it is a warm sound that soothes some of the rougher edges of her mind. Things in Konoha have not been easy; Sasuke's return has not gone as well as she once hoped. Her mind drifts back several weeks to when she finally dragged him away from his house arrest to Team 7's old training ground and knocked him around a bit to make him take her heriously. Sasuke hadn't taken it well, but then he didn't take anything well.

"Trouble in paradise?" Shi asks dryly, and explains at her questioning look, "Konoha has something of a reputation for being some sort of haven. Konoha nin are... soft and over-sentimental, like the Kyuubi's host, or heartless prodigies like Uchiha Itachi."

"You have some issues with Konoha, don't you?" she asks, recalling the distaste in his expression when he had realized where she came from.

"Yeah, you could say that." His voice is almost unnaturally light. "My father was killed in Konoha."

"I'm sorry," Sakura tells him honestly. Losing a person is never easy, no matter how it happened.

"Yeah, me too. He was being an idiot, of course, but there's not much to be done about it now, is there? Rhetorical, by the way."

Sakura rolls her eyes. "I know that, silly. And yes, trouble in paradise, such as it is. With Sasuke back and being treated like a criminal—which I fully admit he is, so don't start—" she says quickly, seeing Shi open his mouth and frown. "Naruto is torn constantly between ecstasy and exhaustion. Sai, one of my other teammates, is being a brat as per usual but worse because of his inferiority complex about Sasuke, and Sasuke himself is just being a dick, if you'll pardon my language."

Shi scoffs. "Language? Please, I've heard worse during one of B's raps." A beat. "Look, setting aside my personal... issues... with the Uchiha, what on earth do you see in him?"

"'Do I'?" Sakura repeats faintly. "Nothing."

"But you said you were waiting for him to kiss you."

"Yeah, when I was thirteen," she points out. "And yeah, maybe I still kind of liked him before the war, but it wasn't as if I actually knew him anymore. Franbkly, shi, I think I know you better than I know Sasuke. I've resigned myself to simply never understanding him or how his mind works."

"Never understanding the mind of a person who would throw away everything he had for a shot at revenge?" Shi startles a laugh out of her with his next words, delivered in a total monotone. "Truly, you are lacking in humanity."

The conversation lulls and Shi takes another drink of his tea before exhaling slowly, relaxing. He blinks and the motion is slow; he is either very comfortable or drugged, and she highly doubts the latter. "What's Kumo like?" slips out before she can think better of asking and she hastily specifies, "I mean, I was there at the start of the war, but I was wondering what it's like the rest of the time. Is is peaceful, or noisy, or cold...?" She trails off at the sight of his smile.

"It's cold," he says shortly. "And noisy. But then, I work closely with A-sama and B-sama, so I may not be the best judge." He pauses, a considering look on his face as he looks at her. "Do you like snow, Sakura?"

She smiles, looking out at the rest of the room. Kankuro seems to have won his argument and Kurotsuchi looks about ready to storm off as Sakura replies, "I do."

Shi opens his mouth and says something that is lost in the chaos of laughter and splutters when Kurotsuchi trips on the tatami mat and lands in Kankuro's lap. The girl shoves on his chest, knocking him flat on his back as she hops to her feet and starts shouting at him and Chojuro lifts his hands and plaintively attempts to keep the peace.

"What?" she asks, laughing still.

He tosses back the rest of his tea and then shifts away from the wall to face her. It feels like her breath has been knocked out of her: Shi's black eyes are direct, his gaze open. She can see hope and heat and resolve in those eyes. "You should come to Kumo this winter," he repeats.

She blinks a few times before managing to draw in a breath, then nods a little. She is surprised by how steady her voice is. "I think I would like that."

He grins at her then, clearly happy. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." Sakura bites her lip but ends up grinning right back despite the sting. When Shi settles back against the wall he is closer and his upper arm rests along hers; neither shies away from the contact. Her days are looking an awful lot brighter than they did before he sat down.

...something about Deidara being a "murdering asshole", which Sakura fully agreed with, versus the other girl's opinion that he was simply a "misguided rebel"...

Even while writing ShiSaku, I apparently cannot just leave Deidara well enough alone. Well, I can't say I mind.

Ja na!