.
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three
hundred
[six years earlier]
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.
I do not love you for your
strength and grit,—
—
Twelve had never been as simple as a state of mind.
It had taken Sakura many long years to learn that, to understand that she would not apologize for what she once was…because that twelve year old girl would always be part of her.
Sakura had a great deal of regrets at the age of sixteen, but committing herself so fully to love at such a young age had never been one of them.
It never had been, and it never would be.
At sixteen, Sakura's love was a quiet, unassuming kind. She knew that she was passionate and fierce, and she didn't need anyone's validation to know that this was part of her being, that these traits were the makeup of her very soul.
She wore her heart on her sleeve, and she wore it with pride. It had taken some time, but she had learned that what drove her was her emotion.
And the thought that these bonds she'd created made her strong, was the last, fleeting thought that slipped through her mind before she tore the ground open in a way she never had before.
Her gloved knuckles against the rough dirt, the explosion of rock, and the gaping crack in the earth just beneath the Juubi, deep enough, wide enough, and sudden enough to sink the beast hundreds of meters while the Kages finished off the job within the barrier.
Her clothes were stained with the sweat of something so close to a victory when she knew that love, despite what many jaded warriors would tell her, was what gave her the will to survive. To fight.
"Tsunade-shishou…" she whispered to no one, the wind and crumble of dirt louder than her thoughts, worried for the health of her teacher.
She allowed herself a second's worth of reprieve as the legacy of her master swept through her veins, the rumbling crash of the beast falling to its knees the only applause she needed. She was sure this was the only glory she needed—the knowledge that those on the other side of her fissure were safe.
She glanced up, the blur of black and white along the corners of her vision against the dark sky, heavy with unfallen rain.
Sasuke.
He'd appeared out of the blue, and somehow Sakura found it in herself to be surprised, to mouth his name in shock…while he'd explained he was on their side.
And just like that, they were Team Seven again. As if they'd never parted in the first place.
It was blur how they'd entered the fray together, and even more so how he and Naruto had somehow, wordlessly, as if the years they'd been apart had never happened, developed a plan.
A plan between exchanged glances was created, and the certain sync in all of their movements was telltale that they knew each other. And the brief conversation and the heavy glance she'd shared with Sasuke was enough for her to fall into place on this chessboard they called war.
To place Team Seven in the history books forever.
"We're not looking for fame," she'd chided, reminding Naruto. "We're here to protect our precious people."
But the eagerness on his face couldn't be denied and somehow in this bloody haze that had been the past few weeks, a true and genuine smile split her face when he'd joked. "Easy for you to say. You've already done both."
It was strange, how the small reunion and the soft chuckle from Sasuke was enough, suddenly, for her. Enough for the world.
They were her family.
The evening blackened into night, the sky clouding up, swollen with water. And the time for small banter and small victories was over as the only one left was Madara…and they were the ones who had to finish him.
He was as evasive as ever, but the sky beckoned, and Sasuke was never one to resist.
He looked at her once—a look that she'd never forget, searing with some kind of unspoken promise—before tipping his face upwards. Standing just behind Madara, he summoned the bolt of lightning to his palm, hot and dangerous. It was in that moment that Sakura knew that this was too dangerous, that Sasuke was too close, that he would get hurt, too, and badly—
The protest formed at her lips, and Sasuke looked as if to angle the bolt at Naruto, the gleam of approval in Madara's eyes visible even from across the way.
"Do it," the older man hissed.
But he didn't.
In that brief second of the change in trajectory, Madara grabbed Sasuke's free wrist, and a raw scream, hoarse and desperate ripped from Sakura's throat because she knew exactly what he was trying to do.
And just as the barely murmured plan entailed, Sasuke slammed the bolt into Madara's chest as the crack of thunder rumbled across the sky, and it began to pour in sheets.
With blood seeping through his barely parted lips, Madara let out his last few words, gaze murderous as he glared at Sasuke, thoroughly electrocuted as well, convulsing next to him. "If I'm going down, you're going with me," Madara said between gritted teeth.
Madara was paralyzed when Naruto finished him off with a rasenshuriken, the spatter of blood on the ground the only trophy they'd ever get.
And the two boys, her boys, collapsed to their knees around a dead man.
Sakura had never recalled running faster.
When she reached Sasuke, his heart was beating wildly out of control, his hands gripping his chest, a grimace of pain on his face. Naruto's hands were raw and burned from overusing chakra, and the large laceration down his side was proof that the battle had been more than its ending.
The air tasted like ashes, and Sakura herself was incredibly low on chakra when she pressed her hands, one on each chest, and began to heal.
The sky was dark, and the only light around for miles was the sudden burst of chakra and the green glow, constant and everlasting, of her mending.
It wasn't long until Sasuke was unconscious but still so alive, his heart under control, beating steadily under her hand. It wasn't long until Naruto's bleeding was staunched, the wound patched over with new skin, and Sakura was pale from exhaustion.
Only when she was sure all three of them were feasibly alive did she allow herself to crumple onto the muddy earth between them, empty of everything, water drops tangling in her eyelashes.
And in that moment, Sakura knew that she would never let anyone tell her that healing was a useless art. Nobody would ever try and convince her that this was worthless.
Not when it brought her broken team back.
—
Sakura awoke to Tsunade looming over her, gaze critical.
"What?" were the first words that made it past her parched lips in a croak, and Tsunade didn't answer, instead pressing a straw to her student's lips, the silent message evident. Drink.
No liquid could ever come close to matching water, she knew, in those moments where she greedily sipped. It was more than clear, nearly tasteless liquid—it was life.
She exhaled as the cup drained, licking her lips thoughtfully. Her gaze refocused then, on the lines forming between Tsunade's eyebrows, the furrow of displeasure clear. "What?" she repeated, words much smoother now.
"I told you not to use it so recklessly."
Understanding lit Sakura's face, and sitting up more fully now, she pursed her lips. "No, you said to only use it in emergency situations."
"There were people coming, it would have been—"
"That's not a guarantee. All I knew is that they were dying—Sasuke especially; Tsunade-sama, he was so close to the end—and I was running out of chakra, and Naruto was bleeding out and I don't ever really know how much the Kyuubi can fix, especially after battle…"
Tsunade rocked back on her heels, sighing.
"You gave me the Yin Seal as a backup when I needed it the most. And I think—no, I know they were worth it."
Tsunade stepped away from the bed, walking towards the window.
Sakura ducked her head, beginning to inspect the bandages wrapped around her previously shattered knuckles, the chakra burns on her own fingers.
"I'm proud of you," Tsunade said suddenly, staring at the Hokage monument, just visible in the early morning light.
Sakura looked up, startled, before staring intently at her lap again. "I…"
"Make no mistake—I still think what you did was incredibly foolish and left you in such a vulnerable place, running yourself out of all chakra like that. But…it was also incredibly brave." Tsunade said brusquely, crossing her arms as she turned to face her student slowly.
Lips twitching with words she couldn't form, Sakura's green eyes grew glassy. "I…thank you."
Tsunade smiled fondly, closing the distance between them by stroking her cheek fondly. "Yeah, yeah."
—
When Sakura awoke again, it was to the sound of her hospital door slamming and a haggard Naruto rushing to her side.
"Naruto!" she breathed, hands already reaching out, patting him down to make sure that he was completely whole and uninjured. "Are you okay? Shouldn't you be resting?"
"I'm fine," he said, slapping her seeking hands away lightly. "Sakura-chan, listen to me."
Confused, she drew back. "Naruto, I don't…if you're okay, then what are you doing here? It's against hospital protocol for patients to be wandering...and it's—" she glanced quickly at the clock on the wall, "—nearly three in the morning!"
"Sakura-chan I have to—"
"Sleep! Rest! Heal!" she finished his sentence sternly, grabbing his ear roughly despite his howling protests as she pushed back the blankets, fully intending to march him back down to his room. "And don't you even think I won't report this. And post better guards outside of your room…" she muttered darkly, stalking over to the door, not caring how the back of the hospital gown exposed her floral panties from the back.
"No! This is important! You have to listen—"
She yanked the door open, the hall's bright light spilling into her darkened room. Pointing roughly down the hall, she bit out. "Let's go."
"Sakura." Naruto urged, setting his hands on her shoulders, stilling her movements. "It's about Sasuke."
All of her ire faded, her abrasive grip on his ear weakening as her hand fell back to her side limply. Eyes wide and still standing in the doorway, all she could manage was the whispered, "…what?"
"He's in jail."
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notes: I feel like I owe a lot of you an apology because you were all so eager to see the first chapter continue where it left off...and I'm afraid I've done exactly the opposite of that. As opposed to working forward from where we started...we've gone six years backwards and will be working forward from here to get back to the time we were at in chapter one.
In flashback, essentially.
Also, the italicized bits at the top for the rest of the chapters are part of a truly beautiful poem that I feel fits three hundred very well. It's called "Civil War" by tumblr user sincerelyjoanna. And if you stick around to the end you'll have read the whole thing in pieces, a bit in every chapter.
IN OTHER NEWS CAN WE GET A CELEBRATION?! CHAPTER 631 AM I RIGHT AM I RIGHT?! KDLFJSKJFS.
Thank you for all your kind words and enthusiasm! I love you all so much.
