It was dark. Fog clung to the ground in greedy tendrils, snaking between their feet as if laying down an insubstantial trap. They kept still, silent, and communicated through hand signals and the barest incline of the head. He could feel the demon fox pushing to become dominant. It sought blood, wanted death, and knew only the taste of victory. At times, he hated it. When he let even a small amount of it free, he could see, feel, and taste it's emotions.

There was something close by. The fox was heightening his senses, and he could smell them. But that was the problem. They were all around them, if his senses were accurate, closing in from every corner. They'd made a mistake, fallen into a trap, and before he could warn his comrades, the zing and snap of a kunai reached his ears.

Gritting his teeth as they elongated into fangs, he spun. Dark eyes the color of days old blood frantically sifted through the inky darkness in a desperate search for the weapon. There! Without hesitation he dove, knowing that speed and reflex were magnified. He would reach it; no one would have to die. The Jounin with him were skilled, but they weren't good enough. There were only a few people he knew who could keep up. And one was lost to them forever.

Fingers closing around the metal, he felt his sharp nails biting into the hilt. As he twisted to find a suitable target, it briefly passed through his mind that he'd likely left scratches in a material few things should've been able to penetrate. And the dark thoughts that followed on the heels of that had his lips twisting derisively. The enemy would think it was for them, never understanding it was directed inward.

Lusty thoughts tangled with his own. It wanted the feel of blood on his skin, the taste of fear in his mouth. If it had it's way, he would tear every man here apart, even his own. The battle of wills that ensued splintered his mind, and he felt the pain drive deep inside him. He would use the demon; the demon would never use him. He couldn't give it what it wanted, would not give it what it wanted.

Almost of it's own will, the kunai left his hand. The mark was strong, and it hit hard, embedding itself into the skull of an approaching nin. The man fell aside and his presence left Naruto's mind as soon as his body left his sight. There were too many of them, and he knew that the three of them wouldn't be able to handle the barrage alone. Not unless he let the demon fox have complete control. And he couldn't do that.

Planting himself in the middle of them, he ducked low and kicked. He caught a nin full in the chest and made no sound, no indication that he cared, when the crack of the shinobi's back hitting a nearby tree reached him. His claws were useful. They tore through flesh and nicked bone, and he had only to twist to break anything he touched.

Get out of my head!

There was the faint echo of laughter, and he knew what came next. The smell of blood was thick, heady in the air. Men fell all around him, and the deaths their imprints left fed the monster inside of him. Before long, the screams that split the air would be that of his own ninja. And he was so caught up in this battle here, he wouldn't be able to stop it.

"No! I don't want to see it again!"

"Naruto?"

Why was the dream a reality, and reality a dream?

"Naruto? Wake up. You're dreaming."

The screams drowned her out, robbed him of the sound of her voice. He was lost, suffocating in the remembrance of a memory he'd sooner forget.

Sharp pain stung his cheek, and then her face was wavering into view. She looked concerned, almost frightened. He wanted to reach up to reassure her, but his arms felt heavy. Instead, he watched as she shifted, removing a warm rag from his forehead to replace with a damp, cool one.

"You're running a high fever," she told him matter-of-fact. "I think one or more of your wounds got infected and entered your bloodstream."

Lips dry, he wet them briefly and managed, "How long?"

Her brow furrowed, and then smoothed out. "Three days."

Three days. He'd lost three days to a feverish sickness broken only by nightmares too vivid to be anything but real. Had Sakura heard him in his weakness?

Sighing, he turned his head to the side.

"Naruto? You..." she trailed off, choosing her words carefully. "You said a lot of things while you were sleeping."

His gaze snapped back to hers, the sudden motion leaving him dizzy. But his feverish eyes were bright with the need to know what he'd given away.

Ducking her head, she stared at her hands as they twisted the warm rag. "I just wanted you to know that if you need to talk about anything, I'll listen."

He watched her a moment, willing himself to smile, not realizing it came out as more of a grimace. "I'm all right, Sakura-chan. Just some nightmares you know? Probably brought on by the sickness," he added, unable to bring himself to lie.

Sakura still wasn't looking at him. "I know... it must be hard to have a fellow shinobi die. When I lose a patient, I still sometimes have difficulty coping. And I realized it's all right to feel that way. You-"

His hand found it's way to her arm, and he curled his fingers around her wrist. He'd never deliberately hid his feelings from anyone before, but remembering how the mistake had been his (hadn't he been the one to suggest they go in that area?) and how they had died because of him (hadn't it been him who was unwilling to let the demon fox out to save their lives?), he couldn't say the words that threatened to choke him.

She looked at the hand on her arm. "Naruto, I'm worried about you. You've never kept things to yourself like this before. I don't want you to make yourself worse."

"They're just a couple of dead men, Sakura," he responded dully, once again turning away from her.

The sound of his own face being slapped startled him into looking at her, eyes wide.

There were tears slipping down her face, and she said with restrained fury, "They weren't just men. They were husbands, brothers, fathers, lovers... Don't pretend you don't care!"

"Sakura..." He felt his expression crumble and his own eyes burn with unshed tears. He himself had thought the very same thing she voiced.

She slipped her arm out from beneath his slack hand, and gripped his fingers with her own. Lowering herself on his chest, she gingerly wrapped her arms around him and held him close. Chest tightening, he closed his eyes and returned the gentle pressure, letting himself be lost in her nearness and the scent of her so that it wouldn't hurt as much as it did.

"I..." His voice trembled, but he didn't allow himself to care. Those men deserved to be mourned, Sakura was right. "I couldn't even bring their bodies back, Sakura. They'll never be laid to rest and their families will never see them again."

"Shh." She stroked his hair back from his face, and her fingers felt cool on his feverish skin. "It wasn't your fault."

"Has... has someone went to tell them?"

"The Hokage did, don't worry." Her fingers combed through his hair, snagging on tangles.

"It should've been me. I'm the one that lost them, it should've been me." Even the tears felt cold on his face.

"Naruto. You're sick. You need rest and you need to stop blaming yourself, or it's going to make it that much harder for you to get well," she told him, taking his face in her hands.

He stared into her compassionate green eyes, and blinked, her features blurring through the moisture in his own.

"You always think you need to take care of everyone else. When are you going to let someone take care of you?" She murmured, leaning down to place a kiss on the part of his forehead not covered by the rag.

That was hot. He could feel it sear all the way through him. But it couldn't mean more than the gesture of friendship. Sakura was being kind, because he was ill. To take it as anything more would only be hurting them both.

Sighing, he closed his eyes again. He felt exhausted, as if the act of letting his feelings go had drained what was left of his energy. Three days, and he still felt this useless. What had his state been when he first came in? He could scarcely remember. Except... cool gestures on his skin, accompanied by a soft, soothing voice came back to him. Sakura? Had she been caring for him all this time?

"Rest, Naruto."

Unable to do anything but obey, he slid into sleep. When he woke later, it was to see it had grown dark outside. Sakura settled next to him with a bowl in her hands, and he watched he steam rise from it and pool in the air above her head.

"Naruto? I brought you some soup. Do you want to try to eat?"

He opened his mouth, only to find his throat too dry to speak. So he settled for nodding.

"Here. Small sips or you'll get nauseated."

The soup felt warm going down and it soothed the raw edge of his throat. As soon as it reached his stomach, all the nerves in his abdomen seemed to come alive. Demanding more, his stomach violently protested and he heard Sakura laugh softly next to him. Flushing, he blinked and accepted another bite.

"You've been sleeping all day," she said conversationally. "Do you feel any better?"

"Ki..." He coughed to clear his throat. "Kinda."

She smiled, offered him another bite. "Good."

"Sakura-chan," he asked between spoonfuls. "Did you... have you been taking care of me?"

"On my shift, yes," she said cheerfully. Then, sobering a little, she added, "And I sat with you through the worst of it."

"Thank you," he answered quietly. "There's no one else, so..."

"Don't be silly," she replied briskly. "Iruka-sensei came by. So did Kakashi-sensei, Shikamaru, Hinata, Neji, Ino, Chouji, Kiba, Shino..." Trailing off, she smiled. "They all came to see you, Naruto. More people love you than you allow yourself to realize."

Knowing he must look like a simpleton with his mouth hanging open, he could still only stare at her in surprise, his face pink with embarrassment and pleasure. They had all come to see him?

Gesturing behind her she murmured, "See?"

There were flowers everywhere. So many, that they crowded one entire corner of the room. In his daze, he hadn't even smelled them. But he did now.

"Oh, well, I... Will you thank them?"

"No. You'll thank them when you get out."

He smiled brightly. "Yeah. Yeah, I will."

"That's better," she said, business-like. "I'm used to seeing you smile like that. And I expect you to treat me to dinner for taking such good care of you."

He laughed. It felt good to laugh. "Anywhere you want to go."

Her eyes met his, and to his puzzlement, she blushed. "Then I'll hold you to it."

Naruto blinked. "Well... okay."

"And no ramen," she snapped, shoving the spoon toward him with such force it nearly went up his nose and managed to spill all over his chest.

Making a small sound of distress, she dropped the spoon in the bowl and reached for a dry cloth. Before he could tell her not to worry, she was scrubbing at his chest with rough, jerky movements. The sheet slid to his waist, and bared his entire abdomen, showing old scars and new bruises. Where the soup had landed, was an angry red spot, and judging from the color high in Sakura's cheeks, she felt miserable.

Touching her hand to still her, he said, "It's all right, Sakura. It doesn't really hurt. And I could've wiped it up with the sheet."

"Don't be ridiculous," she bit back. "I'm not going to let you cover up with dirty things."

Laughing, he let go of her. "I guess I'd really better treat you somewhere nice, huh?"

Nose in the air, she pulled the rag way from his chest. "That's right."

Softer now, he smiled at her. "I wouldn't have taken you to ramen. I know how you don't like it."

Blinking, she looked at him. "You... do? How? I ate it anyway."

Naruto shrugged. "I just paid attention, that's all."

She laid the back of her hand to rest on his forehead, checking for fever. "You've really grown up. You aren't a boy anymore."

Confused, his eyebrows pulled together. "Well, no... I'm 23."

Color staining her cheeks again, she rose and brushed at her med-nin uniform. "No, that isn't what I meant. But... Do you want more soup?"

Expression still, eyes thoughtful, he looked at her and said softly, "And you aren't a girl anymore. You're a woman."

Looking away from him, to the bowl of soup in her lap, she said archly, "Oh? Nice of you to notice. I don't think anyone else has even-"

Taking her hand, he kissed her palm. "Then they're blind."

"N-Naruto," she stuttered, "what are you doing?"

He grinned. "Nothing."

Jerking her hand away, she glared at him. "Just eat your soup. Or I'll pour the whole bowl on you."

Filing her reaction away for later, he played into her game. "Then I'll have to complain about abuse."

"I'll show you abuse," she snarled, raising her fist.

He cowered. "You wouldn't hurt a sick man, would you?"

"Don't tempt me."

No, Sakura-chan... don't tempt me.