Sick.
"Sakura, you okay?"
"Hai."
There are only fuzzy shapes about me, except for a glisten of something in the dark.
"Sakura, you okay?"
I jump from surprise; his attentiveness, today, is unwanted. Sasuke has always been so careful to details.
"Hai." That came out too soft, but he brushes it off. The dark locks of his hair fall down, shielding his expression from me, as he goes back to eating.
Eating? That's right; I am currently in a restaurant with my team – Naruto, Kakashi-sensei, Sasuke, Yamato-sensei, and Sai.
Something glazes over my vision again, and the lightheadedness refuses to leave. Instead of the succulent chicken or the roasted potatoes before me, I reach for the sharp glint beside it. I reach for it with my eyes.
A silver steak knife, with a brown wooden handle, beckons me over. It is a temptation to end my pain. My stomach churns inside, mimicking a storm, even though I had not eaten a single bite, except for delicate sips of coke.
Don't ever drink coke when you're feeling nauseous. The carbonated drink threatens to spew fire and burn my insides. Ignoring it, I gaze at the knife again.
It's funny how easy it is to think of submitting to Death.
"Sakura, you okay?" He asks me again, and in surprise, my eyes lift from the alluring invitation.
"Hai."
I realize then that everyone is looking at me, not with their eyes, but they are. Acting nonchalant, yet attentive to me. But it is Sasuke who breaks it.
"Sakura, you okay?"
"Hai."
It is a maddening repeat and I feel sicker and sicker. Perhaps it is an incurable disease – that would be so easy, then. I would have an excuse to let it all go without feeling guilty.
"Sakura – " He begins again, but I cut him off.
"No."
Finally, the spell of pretense breaks and everyone turns to me, worried.
"I just feel sick is all." I wonder if my lips are purple; icy winter seems to be raging in me, freezing me whole.
Unexpectedly, Sasuke puts his hand on my forehead. My eyes widen in surprise, but I make no move to protest.
"You don't have a fever."
I blink, spaced out, not entirely aware of my surroundings; not entirely aware of him.
"Sakura," He asks again, and my lack of reply thickens the befallen silence.
Finally, defeated, I answer, "Hai, Sasuke?"
"I think you're sick…"
I frown; that's what I've said.
"… over here." One pale finger gently pokes right above my left breast – my heart.
My vision blurs again, the surroundings all fuzzy, and it takes me a moment to realize that there are tears flowing.
Thank goodness, I whisper inside. Thank goodness, thank goodness, thank goodness…
He has noticed my pain.
…
When the blur thins out and disappears, I see the rest of my team eyeing me, worried. Sasuke isn't the only one – they're all here for me, to save me from my sickness.
For a moment, despite the aching pain in my heart, I smile; I don't deserve them, but here they are, and for that, I am lucky.
I am Sakura, a very, very fortunate and loved kunoichi.
Fin.