Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.

Summary: Coda 693. "Why?" Sakura poses a question. In the aftermath of Sasuke's horrible genjutsu, a new power takes a hold of her soul. No romance.

Rating: T

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Shatterpoint

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Sakura was in a dark place. Bound to a chair, hands twisted uncomfortably and tied behind her back, ankles secured to the wooden legs with thick ropes, she felt helpless and completely alone. Forgotten by her comrades, abandoned by the world, all she could do was to stare into the void, which seemed to swallow her whole.

She was in a belly of a beast.

The black nothing was stinging to her tired, bloodshot eyes. Closing them only exposed her to the pulsating darkness underneath her eyelids, the little sister of the awaiting abyss behind the flimsy curtain of flesh.

Her mind was spinning, the hamster tirelessly running on its wheel, while the same scene replayed over and over again in her head. The brutal death by the hands of the man she loved with all her being, set on repeat for infinity. A never ending torture that ripped her apart over and over again without ever losing its stark intensity. How could anyone even think of enduring this?

No one was strong enough for this.

She was falling apart, slowly disintegrating in the sea of black, excruciating pain. A sob was conceived in her throat and pushed through the narrow space to slide out of her mouth. Her body shook like a leaf as more sobs wrecked through it.

"Why?" A single word, but also a question of utmost importance, fundamental and inescapable since the beginning of times. In her mouth it was ragged, feeble and entirely thoughtless. She didn't even know who she was asking – Sasuke, the Void or maybe God? It was irrelevant as none could give her the answer she desperately needed.

And yet, it came to her, when she was on the very brink of insanity. The salvation encapsulated in the strong voice that gave her the reply she was looking for all this time.

"Because the world is unfair."

It was so simple – why didn't she think of that sooner? Sakura released a short laugh, more of a self-deprecating bark than a genuine sound of amusement. She was so stupid and pathetic.

"Yes... It's unfair," she agreed wholeheartedly.

"So you understand the failure of this reality?" This time the question came at her.

"Yes."

"It doesn't give you happiness, only pain, even though you did nothing to deserve it, am I right?"

"Absolutely," she whispered, reflecting on what happened to her.

"And if you had a power to change it? To make it right?" the voice asked.

Sakura looked up, but there was only the velvet darkness that made the ceiling of her bottomless prison.

"Then I would... do it. I would change it."

"Very good, girl," the voice answered and she felt warm as the praise washed over her, before the next words chilled her to the bone. "Then all you need to do is join me."

"Who are you?" she inquired, fearful and tensed.

"You know who I am."

That arrogance oozing from every clearly enunciated syllable was unmistakeable. Sakura knew him. He was the one she both feared and loathed, despised and admired. Once her foe, now a silver-tongued devil with promises of salvation dripping from his lips, like a water to her parched, thirsty throat.

But Sakura was stronger than this.

"Why would I join you? All you offer is to replace this reality with a fake one," she accused scathingly. "That's not a change. Just a beautiful lie."

Silence. Then the rich baritone chuckled, resonating within the cage of darkness she was entrapped in.

"Tell me, did that genjutsu feel fake? Was the sensation of the arm going through your chest not real? Did the pain of death mean nothing to you because it happened only in the illusion?"

"Of course it hurt me like it was real, but it wasn't," she argued hotly. "I'm still alive, my heart beats. The genjutsu is just a nightmare, it will pass and soon I will forget all about it."

Yes, just a nightmare... Sakura reassured herself. When she would wake up, she would be alright, definitely. She only needed to escape from her chains and return to the reality, then she could put this whole experience behind her.

"Stop lying to yourself," the voice lashed out sharply, striking at the open wound.

"I'm not..." A denial sprang to her lips in a knee-jerk reaction, but he would have none of that.

"Stop. Lying. Girl." The harsh rebuke stung like a slap to the face.

She recoiled, taking in a breath then released it with a hiss.

"Think and think hard," the voice commanded. "Was the pain you felt in the genjutsu any less real than it would have been in reality? Can you call a fake any other sensation or emotion you experience? Does their sincerity depend on their source?"

She had no retort and he expected none. "No?" he continued, merciless and logical. "Then why don't you abandon the foolish notion that reality is defined by your body alone?" She listened almost against herself, entranced by his reasoning. He expanded more upon this concept, driving a final nail in the coffin of her old beliefs, exposing their flaws to the naked eye and compelling her to see what was obscured behind them. "Reality is the product of your mind, girl. It's your perception that decides what is real and what is not real. Nothing else."

She trembled with the revelation, mouthing his words to herself, rolling them on her tongue and feeling for the slightest blemishes, which weren't there. She considered countless counters but they all sounded like hollow excuses when faced with the utter truth presented to her, so raw and unadulterated in its beauty. She wanted to cry and laugh at the same time at its perfection, at the solution that was there all the time and which no one else took despite every opportunity to do so. Were they all so narrow-minded that they had never seen this?

And as she gradually accepted and integrated it all within herself, the ropes unnoticeably loosened and dissolved and the strength returned to her limbs, chakra flooding the muscles like a river that broke a dam.

"Did you decide, girl?" The voice seemed amused. Did he know what she was thinking? Or was it his inner joke she wasn't privy to?

She steeled her resolve. "My name is Sakura," she told him.

"Very well, Sakura. You know what to do."

And the darkness cracked and condensed, to be siphoned away to the place right under her torn, bleeding heart, where it laid as a miniature black hole, ready to devour anything that came in close contact.

Sakura came to, sputtering and gasping for air, to the worried face of her old sensei looming over her. Every line not covered by the mask was like a deep canyon, a ravine carved by age and stress. She appreciated the familiar, comforting sight.

"Sakura, are you alright?" Kakashi asked.

She breathed in and out a few times, calming and steadying herself for what would happen next.

"I'm fine."

She pushed him gently away and rose to her feet, then tried to walk, a drunken gait interrupted by a wobble in her knees as she stumbled. She broke the fall with her hands, scraping them on the stone, then crawled on all fours, her eyes focused only on her destination.

"Sakura, what are you doing?" Kakashi called after her, puzzled, still unsuspecting, but he couldn't follow. He was too weakened by the use of Sharingan to even stand.

She reached the body – so peaceful in death, she felt almost bad for him, the previous enemy – and knelt by his side. This was her last chance to back off, to forget what he told her, to dismiss it as a figment of her imagination – but it was impossible, because her eyes were opened to the truth now.

You know what to do.

Yes, I do, she thought and raised her hands above Madara's body, channeling the green medical chakra into the tips of her fingers.

She knew exactly what to do.

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The End

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AN: So this is my reaction to chapter 693.

Thanks for reading! :)