It is over a year before he strides through the same gate again, carrying a missive from the Rokudaime and a slight limp in his gait from a recent confrontation with rogue Cloud mercenaries.
Sasuke manages to enter the Hokage Office without too much fuss. The shinobi guards are somewhat tentative to let him pass, but he knows Shikamaru has given them prior briefing, and he shoulders past them sparing incident.
The Rokudaime glances up as he pushes the door closed, folding the bandages he'd previously been occupied with and placing them out of sight.
Three years have left no trace on Kakashi, and beyond the white robe cloaking his shoulders and the wide-brimmed hat propped against his desk, Sasuke's sensei remains exactly as he remembers.
Observing his former student's gaze, Kakashi smiles good-naturedly, lifting the arm to which he'd been tending.
"Sakura", he says simply, and Sasuke understands what he means. Sparring with the kunoichi is about as advisable as challenging a hurricane to a boxing match, and even he, despite Sharingan and Susano'o, regards her incredible strength with the healthy fear it deserves.
The meeting is concise, merely scheduled so that Kakashi could hear firsthand about any disturbances in the outer reaches of the ninja world. Sasuke's information is minor, and if he hadn't thought Kakashi simply scrupulous in his duties, he would've suspected that his old sensei missed him.
Their discussion ends with a few short formalities, and then Sasuke moves to exit. Kakashi stops him, requesting that he stop by the hospital on the way out for a formal examination of his leg. Sasuke's brows knit, but he assents nonetheless.
He's certain now that Kakashi's purpose is sentimental. The cut along his calf is nothing Sasuke can't handle himself.
Even so, he shortly finds himself standing outside of Konohagakure's large medical center, his body having disobeyed his wishes. Sasuke grimaces, but enters nonetheless.
The medic-nin at the front counter starts when she sees him, but quickly recovers and asks, with almost feigned sweetness, what he's come for.
"Just an examination," Sasuke says simply. He doesn't want the exchange to last longer than is absolutely necessary. Clearly the medic-nin shares his sentiments, because she hands him a room number as soon as the words leave his mouth and hurriedly points him down a hallway, glad to be rid of him.
He can't really blame her.
Sasuke locates the specified room without any trouble. Konoha's medic-nin run a tight ship, he muses, settling himself awkwardly on the examination table. After years of trekking through dirt and grime, the sterile steel and white walls are jarringly foreign, and he feels as though his presence mars the cleanliness of it all.
He's just about to wonder if this detour was really necessary when he hears footsteps approach the room.
The door is pushed swiftly open, and Haruno Sakura briskly strides into view, clad in crisp medical robes and gazing at a thickly laden clipboard.
"Alright, so just a physical once-over, is it? Well, I'll have you out of here in no time…"
He forces himself to meet her eyes as her words trail off into silence.
Sakura, too, remains largely as he remembers, but there are some new elements to her appearance. Her short pink hair is tied into a choppy ponytail at the nape of her neck, with some escaped strands stubbornly falling across her forehead. Her eyes are the same intense green, but now they are circled with faint blue rings, evidence of Sakura's devotion to her craft.
"…Sasuke."
It is a statement, and her voice is perfectly even. Not angry, or astonished, as he'd anticipated. Merely objective.
A selfish part of him is surprised. If there's one thing Haruno Sakura has never been towards him, it's ambivalent, and this new dynamic catches him unprepared.
She removes her gaze to her clipboard, scribbling something on a medical sheet. When she returns her focus to him, her eyes are as unreadable as her words.
"What brings you in today?"
Sasuke motions to his leg, swathed in his self-perceived competent bandaging. Sakura, however, quietly clicks her tongue at his efforts and stoops to delicately unwind the fabric.
He can't see anything out of the ordinary with his injury, but clearly he is ignorant in the realm of medicine, as Sakura begins to scowl even deeper at the angry red slash along his calf, gingerly running her fingers over the site with a practiced hand.
"There's infection. I can give you antibiotics that'll take about a week to work, or I can reopen the wound and flush it out in about five minutes."
Sasuke realizes this is a question, and answers immediately.
"Reopen it." He can't be tied down with a prescription when he's slogging his way through hell and high water.
Sakura's head dips in assent, and she wordlessly reaches into the pocket of her robes for a sheathed scalpel. Observing this, Sasuke realizes it is a sign of her competence. Her skills are in too high a demand for her to waste time searching for the hospital's issued equipment.
"Ready?" she asks, and he grunts in affirmative.
Despite his sky-high pain tolerance, he can't help but hiss as the thin medical steel slices through his flesh, and he grimaces at the always-unwelcome sensation of his own blood streaming hot across his skin.
His discomfort is abruptly soothed by a cool, cleansing sensation, and he glances down to see Sakura's hand swathed in soft green chakra, pulsing slowly as she clears infection from the gash. Her face is creased in earnest concentration, and something softens faintly in his chest.
For being such a fearsome warrior, Sakura is also the most devoted healer he's ever encountered.
A sudden strangeness disrupts his thoughts, and he frowns at the sensation running along his calf, prickling as though icy water was flowing across the wound. Sasuke squints at the red line, receding before Sakura's hands, and realizes she is knitting his skin back together.
Another minute of intense focus and her work is done, his leg betraying no sign of ever being compromised. Though she wraps the site in a layer of bandages, Sasuke knows this is merely a formality. Sakura's healing skill is near perfect in its thoroughness.
She straightens up and he stands, shifting his weight experimentally. As he'd suspected, her repairs are remarkable.
Satisfied, he breaks the silence that has filled the room.
"Thank you."
It's slight, but he sees her mask slip, and he knows she can feel it.
He has surprised her.
Unexpectedly, she allows him a smile. It isn't happy, or relieved, but almost sad. It is the smile of one gazing upon something long lost and knowing it is gone.
The softened something in his chest twists.
"It's no trouble."
And then she's gone, whisked out the door by the same purpose she rode in.
He lingers momentarily, eyes on where she'd been only moments prior, before exiting himself. He purposefully avoids the gaze of the medic-nin at the front desk.
It's unfair, he knows. She'd loved him since their Academy days, baring her heart to him despite the countless hurts he'd caused it. He'd done nothing, nothing to earn her adoration, shoving away her fondness with icy disinterest. The only love he'd received was that which she bestowed through her own irrational generosity.
But now, when it finally seems that her affections have run rightfully dry in their freeness, Sasuke wants them back, recoiling from her indifference. Selfishly longs for the undeserved yet unwavering adoration, constant regardless of any unspeakable action he commits.
It's illogical, he thinks. Illogical and cruel.
Sasuke's sandals click against the hard earth as he sprints past the gate. He does not look back.