At the age of fifteen, Sakura had trained herself to spot injuries almost instantly. She could tell a lot by the way people stood: if one foot was put more weight on in an unnatural way, then the other foot was almost certainly injured, if a person tried to keep their back too straight, then that was almost certainly injured. Things like that.
She could hand it to Sasuke; he was good at keeping his emotions under control. It may have been impossible for her to notice, if she had not had as much of a keen eye as she did.
As soon as he walked into her home, she knew there was something wrong with his neck. There was certain strain on his face when he stretched it, barely noticeable.
She told him to wait a moment, ran to the kitchen, grabbed a piece of cloth and wet it, along with an herb that she had recently sliced. Then she returned to the sitting room and ordered him to eat the herb and put the cloth on his neck. She did not take such things like injuries lightly; normal humans and animals had fragile lives, lives that could be torn apart from them very quickly. And for the silliest reasons, conditions she could treat with what she grew in her garden.
She did not dare use her magic, though. It most definitely counted as "suspicious," she was sure.
Sasuke stared at her like she had lost her sanity and she had to wonder if this also counted as "suspicious" in his eyes. "You're injured," she said, by way of explanation.
He scowled. "What, are you a doctor?"
She thought about that for a moment. It had never occurred before but maybe that was what she technically was. She had read numerous texts about the body and medical conditions, texts that she had found along with the books that instructed about magic, texts that she had memorized then applied to all the living organisms around her. Birds that had only one wing, animals that had been hunted unsuccessfully but still suffered excruciating injuries.
"That's exactly what I am, actually," she told Sasuke, hearing the pride in her own voice. She had never had the feeling before, but it seemed to do something to her—turn her into someone else. Around Sasuke, she thought as she watched him put the cloth on his neck, maybe that was who she needed to be.
"Here," she said, reaching for the towel, "allow me."
He let her have the towel without saying anything and stared in front, as she draped it across his neck, pressing into points on it. There was something on his neck, she noticed. A strange inky mark, black and unwashable by the cloth.
As her finger touched it, Sakura felt a jolt, as if she had been struck by lightning, and not in any good metaphorical sense. Goosebumps raised themselves on her arms and she couldn't stop shivering. Sasuke must have sensed it, because he turned around to stare at her. When he found her standing above him, looking like she had just received a massive shock, he grabbed her by her waist and pulled her head down so their eyes were level with each other. "What."
She did not reply, only staring at him blankly. There was a pounding in her head, a pounding that felt like it was going to burst through the walls of her mind.
Sasuke caught her before she hit the floor.
Sakura woke up on her bed, completely disoriented. Sasuke sat in a chair next to it, polishing a dagger; probably the very dagger that he had held against her throat. It was, she realized, a kunai, glinting silver in the light coming through her window.
If there was still light coming through her window, then the sun was still out. That meant she hadn't been unconscious for too long.
She coughed and Sasuke's head snapped in her direction. Smiling a little, she began to get up.
He watched her impassively. "Thought you said you were a doctor."
She glanced at him briefly and nodded. "I am," she said.
"Can doctors not take care of themselves?"
Her face burned and she realized belatedly that he was amused. Probably laughing on the inside at her.
The thought made her scowl. She had never liked the thought of mocking. Now that it was actually happening to her, she liked it even less. "I just felt a little faint is all," she defended hotly. "It was perfectly normal."
Except it hadn't been. She never felt faint, never fell ill. But something about that mark had caused her to.
And since Sasuke was being infuriatingly rude, Sakura decided not to warn him.
"Normal," Sasuke repeated thoughtfully and observed her carefully. "Somehow, I don't think that's a word that would apply to you."
"Well, rude is the perfect word for you!" she said haughtily. There was anger bubbling up, not a very nasty sort, but a juvenile anger that she had never had the chance to experience before.
Sasuke laughed at her. It was not loud and seemed to barely happen. One corner of his mouth twisted up in a smirk and he opened his mouth and let out a small, quick breath. It was as if, if he didn't do it quickly, he wouldn't be able to let it out.
It was also somewhatkindofokrreally breathtaking.
Sasuke, Sakura decided, was a dangerous, dangerous man. Perhaps even more dangerous than the villagers thought she was.
She was regretting inviting him into her house now.
"Would you kindly get me some water?"
He stared at her for a moment, then got up and headed in the direction of the kitchen, muttering about how he wasn't a servant and didn't appreciate being treated as such.
Sakura could also hear some foul words mixed into his monologue.
She lay back down against her bed and thought. And thought and thought. Perhaps, all the years of solitude had had an effect on her mind, causing her to think it fine to trust such a strange man.
He came back with a glass of water, a moment later. "I find it ironic that I am the guest in your house, yet I am the one who's taking care of you," Sasuke murmured dryly, as he held the glass up to her lips. She found the action startling, not used to the idea of people getting close to her. It must have showed on her face, because he narrowed his eyes at her, took her hand, and wrapped her fingers around the cup, before letting go.
She watched the water move around in the glass, then glanced back up at him.
"What?" he said crossly. "I didn't poison it. And you're clearly fine now, so drink it yourself."
"You're a very impatient man, Sasuke," Sakura observed. "I knew a boy as impatient as you, a long time ago, when I was still a baby."
His gaze was directed at the ceiling. "Mustn't have been too long ago; you don't look that much older than me."
And she had slipped up again. "No," she murmured, her lips against the glass, watching her breath fog it up, "no, I suppose I do not."
They were both silent for a moment, as Sakura gulped down the water.
"What happened to the boy you knew?" he finally muttered, curiosity apparently winning out in the end.
"I don't know," she replied. "I haven't seen him since then. He disappeared when I was two."
Sasuke's gaze darkened. "Then why mention him?"
Startled by the harshness of his voice, Sakura looked up. Sure enough, he was staring at her angrily. "No reason," she said, bemused. "I was merely making an observation."
He stood up and stomped out of the room, before Sakura could ask him what was wrong.
What a strange man, Sakura thought. And he thinks "normal" doesn't apply to me.
Sasuke stayed in her house for a week—he blamed it on the amount of traveling he had to do but he never once told her where he was traveling to.
It was the oddest week of Sakura's long life. Mostly due to the fact that it had been so long since she had lived with another human. And the fact that he was a man may have had something to do with it, as well.
She had walked into the washroom at one point, without knocking, because she had forgotten that she had a guest and she never knocked in her own house, only to see Sasuke. Without a shirt. In only his trousers.
She hadn't screamed, just closed the door, quietly, taken a step back and made her way to her room, where she tried to cool off her face, which had suddenly become very, very hot.
Perhaps she was a recluse who didn't know what human interaction was. And Sasuke was the first fully-grown man she had seen. Who, according to her anatomy books and her visual ability, was an incredibly healthy man.
"It's not that big of a deal," he told her, when he came out of the bathroom. Sure enough, his face had not turned red and he hadn't stuttered through the sentence. He had just stared at her, as if he didn't see what the big deal was.
He was probably used to that kind of attention, Sakura thought. The way he carried himself seemed to indicate his confidence, something that females would naturally be drawn to.
"I never said it was," Sakura retorted and began to cook dinner, trying to ignore the feel of his gaze on her back.