I had written this a while ago, MONTHS ago, when I had gone through a bad breakup. I mean, two-years-of-bliss-and-he-pretty-much-leaves-me-for-a-girl-he's-known-for-two-weeks bad. So I was in the angsty mind set for a good while, and this is the end result – the love child of my depression and Shippuden marathons. Enjoy!

~I AM NOT WORTHY ENOUGH TO OWN NARTUO OR ITS CHARACTERS~

Sakura knew she was sick.

Being an extremely talented medical ninja, she knew everything there was to know about dozens of illnesses and how to spot one. Where they came from, what symptoms they displayed, how to cure them – and after much deliberation, Sakura came to the conclusion that she was infected.

How was it possible to love someone who has brought you no joy, but rather a lifetime of heartbreak? Someone whose motivation and ambitions lie in destroying the very thing you are determined to protect?

Sakura always felt that her initial attraction to Sasuke was shallow and selfish, and that over time she would begin to see him for what he truly was and her silly childhood crush would diminish into the recesses of her mind. Waiting and waiting, she never saw the day.

When he was given the curse mark, she admired him for his bravery to not let it take over.

When he allowed it to take over and sought out Orochimaru for power, Sakura only feared for his life, knowing the man he needed was poison, but she would not berate him for searching for strength to kill Itachi.

When he tried to kill her, she could not be angry at him. Even knowing his mind raged with thoughts of vengeance and despair, and that he was past the point of no return, she could not hold her kunai steady enough to take his life.

Sakura could not recall the exact moment she fell in love with Sasuke, but regardless, she felt it was the moment she had contracted a disease. Witnessing the blood shed caused by his own hands, healing those who were unfortunate enough to cross his path, placing white sheets over the bodies he had unanimated, she could not bring herself to hate him. With the screams and curses that filled her ears, and the lifeless eyes of the living staring at her in disbelief, she could still only love him.

At times like these, she made herself sick. Disgusting, it was, the way she still cared for him, after everything. But it was not the actions she loved, no; it was the horrible man behind them.

Like Naruto, she was aware of Sasuke's true pain and the origins of his malevolence. A tortured soul is what he was, and though that torture had brought about an utter abomination of a human being, her heart would continue bleeding and beating for him.

All she ever wanted to do was help him. Sakura was never strong enough, however, and was more of a hindrance than anything. Not once had he thanked her for trying, or voiced his appreciation for her kindness. Not once did he allow her to aid him from the inside, to gently thread the shreds of his being together as best as she could.

Her mind molded into deformity at the thought of him, as she knew it was illogical to feel the way she did. How could you love someone so sinister, who didn't know what it meant to love anymore? Sasuke had tried to sever all bonds with people, because the pain of losing them was immeasurable. Surely, then, he must know how she feels.

How many times had she wished that Sasuke would look at her, her essence, acknowledge the future he could have with her, and completely alter his resolve? How many days did she put to waste, amusing the thought of him walking through the gates of Konoha? How many tears stained her face night after night from worry and apprehension?

That's why she believed herself to be sick. An illness was an anomaly in one's health. Healthy was thinking in red when people spoke of Sasuke and slicing his aorta when she had the chance. Healthy was her heart not stopping at the sight of his raven hair and piercing eyes out of excitement rather than fear. It was thinking rationally and acting on what was blatantly moral. Sakura, by all social conventions and ninja etiquette, should deem him a threat and a traitor and seek his annihilation. But if she ever found the courage to hold a knife to his throat and plunge it deep within his trachea, it would only be to set him free.

Sasuke was a virus, eating away at her mind and invoking miscommunications between neuron transmitters. She hated knowing that there was no tangible cure. Love was not something that came with an antidote or vaccine, and on several occasions, has proven to be deadly.

What would become of Sakura and her sickness? Perhaps his death would follow a quick recovery on her part. Or maybe, just possibly, it would be the cause her own.

It's not too depressing, it is? I don't like it when people gush about broken hearts and bleeding souls and gargantuan pits of darkness and despair blah blah, you get my point. I wanted to save some sap for the trees, but I guess it's up for the reviewer to decide! :D