Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto or any of the characters.

Monochrome

Summary: Sakura learns that even if you burnout, someone will ignite the flame.

The colors on the leaves have slowly turned dusty gold from vibrant green. The scent of pumpkin spice lingers in the air. It's October, the air is cool and crisp, it's a pleasant surprise. It's comforting, a change. It's foreign, the voice in your mind echoes, not quite sure what to think. The fallen leaves under your steps crunch and it's enough to make you feel just a little bit at ease because for once you're not elbow deep in someones' thorax.

You inhale deeply as you admire the handiwork on your tall brown leather boots on your rare day off. You smile, a tired smile that doesn't quite reach your eyes, at the villagers that wave your way. This attention, at first you were flattered because it meant you finally fucking made it. You're a somebody. But now all it is a record on repeat, a song on an endless loop.

"Miss Sakura! Thank you for fixing my son up the other day! He is doing fine, thanks to you." A woman with sparkling onyx eyes says with a smile on her face, as you stop in front of a bakery. You stare at her and nod, for the sake of being polite. To be honest, you don't really remember her and her son but you don't let her know, instead you offer a small smile and ask her if she has any more fresh bread. You've patched up hundreds and hundreds of patients, you used to remembered all your patients but over time the faces blurred into the background, kind of like you.. you think.

Lately you've become desensitized to the world around you except for blood, blood, blood. You are 22, you're a war veteran, you think maybe that's the reason why you feel nothing but emptiness: you've seen and been through shit that fortunately many other's haven't. You fought in a fucking war and survived. How many people could say that?

"Here you go, Miss Sakura. A fresh loaf of bread on the house, just for you!" She smiles and hands you the bread. You insist on paying because you think I don't even remember you, stop being so nice to me.

She rebuttals offended that you insist on paying. Begrudgingly, you end up taking the loaf, with an "arigatou" you leave. You wonder, how pathetic you have become. Since when did buying bread become the highlight of your day.

You think there has to be more to life than just this mindless cycle.

A fleeting thought resonates with you for the remainder of the day.

Was this was what it felt like to burnout?

.

.

.

You're cooking for once, the smell of steamed vegetables, fried meat and noodles invades your senses. You can't help but think, when was the last time you had a home cooked meal instead of bland hospital food? You can't remember. So you move around your kitchen like you own it, because this whole concept of slowing down is actually kind of nice.

You poke your head into one of the cabinets under the sink and pull out the child you's, prized possession. You ignore the way there is dust collected on the radio, you ignore the way memories of you and Mother laughing and singing loudly in this very kitchen, pull at your heart strings. Your Mother was a lovely woman, you recall fondly. Polite, graceful and kind, the opposite of you.

Music plays lightly in your small kitchen but you're to focused on your chaotic thoughts to pay any attention. You hiss, recalling that you have been told you're a temperamental, angry bitch.

It makes you mad; this image people have painted of you. If only they understood, your anger was a defense mechanism because all your life you've been told to keep your mouth shut and stand on the sidelines. So what, if from memory you could recite every single rule for ninja ethics word for word? Not like you ever applied them. You tell yourself, you are the forgotten artifact on the shelf that no one ever dusted. You are the garnishing on the dish that everyone ignored; just placed there to make the main course look aesthetically appealing.

You think you have every right to be angry. Suddenly you're bigshot Haruno Sakura because someone paid attention to you. You always wonder, if Shishou had not given you any training where would you be?

Definitely not a war veteran.

There's knocking at the door, you frown. It's someone from the hospital, you are sure because that place is a mess and they will always need a medic like you. You chuckle darkly at the fact you really thought you had a day off. So naive. Turning off the stove, you walk throughout your empty apartment and open the door for the unexpected visitor.

This you are not ready for. This you did not expect, he was supposed to be on a mission.

Six feet of corded muscle is standing at your doorstep, staring down at you with impeccably cool composure. He raises an eyebrow, because you haven't offered to invite him inside yet.

"Come on in, Sasuke. I was just making lunch."

"Ah. That's rare." Keen and perceptive, you think. Sasuke never missed a beat. You just shrug your shoulders and walk back to your kitchen, Sasuke trailing behind you. "How are your psychological assessments coming along?" Of course you know, you practically run the hospital but you're asking to fill the silence.

"Good." His curt reply from the other side of the room, he's rummaging through your fridge for something to drink. You turn your attention back to the food on your stove, suddenly finding the bubbles in the noodles the most intriguing thing ever.

Here it comes. You hear the breath he releases.

"Sakura.. all you have is expired milk.. what the hell. I'm gone for two months.. and this happens."

You settle for shrugging your shoulders again. He's staring at you, it makes you uncomfortable because it makes you aware of the fact that you've haven't had a proper nights rest and a meal in the longest time.

He breaks the silence, never breaking eye contact. "Take better care of yourself."

"I just don't have the time..." Before you know it Sasuke's growling and in your face, he's holding onto your arms and there's fire in his eyes. It reminds you of his families infamous jutsu, you think its befitting.

"You're a fucking hypocrite Sakura. How can you be a medic, and ignore your own needs. What use are you if you're dead."

"I'm not dead and I don't need you of all people to be lecturing me." You hiss back cattily, fire boiling in your veins. You know your projecting your frustrations out on him. You're sure, Sasuke's noticed this by now, he's always been able to read you.

"Damn it, Sakura. Listen to me, you annoying woman."

"Is that why you came here? To yell at me?"

He steps back. "No."

"Then why?"

"Because.. you're important .. Sakura" His back is to you. You notice the tension in his shoulders but say nothing. A moment passes, Sasuke makes no move to leave. In a strange way, it's comforting, the younger Sasuke would have stormed out.. better yet he wouldn't even exchange that many words with you.

Mentally, you note that he has made progress. He was at war with himself longer than anyone else you know. Sasuke is the definition of a tortured soul, yet here he is trying to make peace with his past. It's enough to make you break the silence, because Sasuke is a warrior.

"I'm sorry.."

He turns around and stares at you like you've grown a second head.

"For what?"

This time you actually smile. "For being annoying." You hug his back. "You're important to Sasuke." The breath is knocked out of you when Sasuke turns you around and wraps his arms around you.

One last thought enters your mind before his soft lips press lightly against yours.

Even if you burnout, someone will ignite the flame.

Authors Note:

If you like what you read, please leave a review and let me know! Much appreciated!

Love Kandy

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