I'm so encouraged by the reviews, ya'll. Thank you!

Benbo: Thank you ever so much for your feedback. I agree it is overwritten. I cut a lot of lines in my edits but I think one of my weaknesses as a writer is valuing my own efforts-I have a hard time deleting work! I should cut more. As for the pacing, my goals when I set out to write this were as follows:
1. Write Kakashi like the enigma that he is and keep him from having too many feelings out loud. (Side goal-explore the idea that his Icha Icha obsession comes from a more nuanced romanticism than simple perversion.)
2. Give Sakura some credit for the don't-need-no-man woman she was becoming in Shippuden.
3. Pace the relationship so that it feels satisfying when it finally resolves.
4. Learn to write action scenes.

I hope you all feel, as we enter the last three chapters, that I have made a respectable effort towards these goals. Thank you for reading and I always appreciate feedback.

Manifestation

When Sakura awoke in the late morning, she rolled over on her right side, eagerly checking to see if Kakashi had slept on the futon below. If he had, he was already gone. She got up and rushed out of the bedroom, hoping he was still in her apartment. She exhaled her relief when she found him facing the couch in the living room, putting on his flak jacket. "You're still here."

Kakashi turned at the sound. "Mm. Just leaving."

"I can make breakfast," she found herself suggesting. Stiffly, she grabbed for the doorframe, the instinct to retreat arriving along with the surprise at her own gumption and the anticipation of his rejection. She wished it wouldn't be such a nuisance to him that she felt comforted by his presence.

"Seems an appropriate skill, at your age."

She wasn't about to let him avoid her offer. "Would you like some?"

Kakashi's eye didn't crinkle warmly, but it didn't scowl either. "You were supposed to laugh—but, no. Thank you."

Resentment brazening her, Sakura more firmly gripped the doorframe. "Are you certain the Hokage has dismissed you?"

His eye hooded. "I'll send Pakkun to ask."

With a grin, Sakura hastened to the kitchen. "I'll have you fed before he gets back," she promised loudly. As she whipped out pans, eggs, and other ingredients, she heard the pop followed by a dog bark, indicating Kakashi's summons. The window in the living room slid open and she listened for footsteps announcing his approach, but none came. Once finished, she tossed the omelets onto plates and onto the table, shoving aside her half-finished report. When she returned to the living room, she found him seated on the couch, both feet widely planted, with his elbows resting on his thighs. His head lifted, giving her an impression that he was exhausted from worry. She flinched back, but forced a smile. "Pakkun isn't here yet so you should come eat." She watched him hesitate, then push himself to his feet with dragging effort. "I take it you didn't sleep at all last night?"

"Mm."

As they returned to the kitchen together and sat down to eat, Sakura thought about how distant Kakashi seemed compared to the night before. She half regretted asking him to stay after seeing how tired and irritated he had become. She conceded her desire for his company with a sigh. "I have a container I can put the omelet in. You can eat it at home." Without waiting for his response, she turned and opened a cabinet. "That way you can also rest comfortably." When she turned back, the box held out, he had already seated himself and had a utensil in hand.

Kakashi's eye smiled gently. "It's ok. You were right. No need to incur more of Tsunade's wrath. Pakkun will be back with an answer soon enough."

Sakura exhaled a relieved laugh. "I was being selfish, honestly, but if it saves you some grief, I don't regret it." He said nothing as she put the box back then joined him at the table.

Rather than pestering him with conversation, she focused on looking at her plate and eating. With small, nervous bites, and curiosity squeezing her throat, she waited for him to finish. It was an opportune moment to catch a glimpse of him sneaking food past his mask, but she resisted looking up until his utensil was set down onto his plate with a clink. The mask looked like it had never moved. He was looking at her, hitai-ate lifted. She stared back; surprised to see the red pupil of his other eye exposed and staring at her pointedly. She looked back at her omelet and laughed, a little too loudly. "Don't startle me like that, Kaka-sensei. I'll choke."

The gloved hand she could see out of the corner of her downturned eye lifted and she heard him slide the hitai-ate back into place.

"Sorry." The squeak of his chair, scraping along the floor, made her look up as he walked behind her to put his plate in the sink. He stayed there, looking out the window.

Interrupting Sakura as she tried to decide whether to ask about the Sharingan, Pakkun ran in, grunting and wheezing. "She said you can go, Kakashi, but you need to report to the hospital at three."

Sakura's eyebrows shot up. That was when her afternoon shift started.

"Alright," Kakashi said with a nod, "I'm going." He patted the back of her chair. "Thanks for the food."

Sakura smiled back, grateful for the acknowledgement. "Sorry, I held you up. See you later."

Pakkun vanished in a puff of smoke and Kakashi stepped through the kitchen doorway, pausing, to Sakura's surprise. He turned back, the corner of his eye smiling. "You've grown up a lot, Sakura. Don't doubt yourself so much." Then he was gone.

In the minutes following, Sakura sat in silence, glowing with astonishment, appreciation, and curiosity.

—

When Sakura arrived at her station at the hospital, Chikako met her. Her long, dark hair was pulled up into a high twist, her uniform hanging off of her thin frame in a way that Sakura admired. With a smile, she took Sakura's hands in both of her own.

"You look better. Are you feeling well?"

"Yep. A little tired still, but it's good to practice working through that." Sakura squeezed Chikako's hands gratefully.

"That's a positive outlook," Chikako said with a smile. She released her grip, and grabbed up a stack of papers on a nearby desk. As she turned back, she passed Sakura an apologetic look. "Tsunade is here and she wants you to meet her in room 216 in thirty minutes. She seemed upset, but hopefully it's nothing serious."

"Oh." Sakura tilted her head, some of her bangs slipping into her face. "I'm sure she wants to remind me to do a report she needs. Thanks for passing the message."

Chikako turned and took backward steps so she could maintain eye contact as she went a few paces down the hall. "You're welcome. Let me know if you get really stressed or tired later. It won't help anyone if you overwork yourself."

"I'll be careful." Sakura said quietly and with a wave as the other medic turned a corner.

After completing a few errands for nurses already with patients, as summoned, she arrived to room 216, on time, but remarkably apprehensive. She rapped loudly, inhaling when she heard Tsunade confirm her entry, exhaling as she opened the door. Room 216 was small and in the interior of the hospital. It had no windows and only a small desk, stool, chair, and an examination table. The floor and walls were a drab gray color. Sakura didn't think she had ever been in this particular room. Tsunade was sitting at the desk, atop the stool, leaning open-angled on one elbow, and crossing the opposite leg. She offered Sakura a wry grimace as they caught each other's eyes, and then flicked the pen in her hand in a gesture towards the examination table. Kakashi was sitting on the front edge, his legs dangling as he held up an Icha Icha novel in front of his face. Sakura made an attempt to wave hello, only to find her self on the receiving end of a cold shoulder. It must have been a harsh debriefing for him, she thought.

"What did you need from me, Shishou?"

Tsunade's hand slammed down onto the desk, shaking it as she pushed herself to her feet. She rotated, scooped up the fairly thick file that had been under her elbow, and stomped over to her apprentice. The file was shoved unceremoniously into Sakura's arms, papers sliding askew and threatening to tumble out of the sides as she struggled to contain her surprise. The Hokage turned, glaring at Kakashi with her hands on her hips, her heeled feet clacking on the tile as she planted her weight.

"This is Kakashi's medical file. From what I can tell glancing through the data, he's pretty far behind his examinations. I've been willing to let him have his way, seeing how often he volunteers for difficult missions, but also because of the trust we've always kept. However, in light of his insubordination, I can no longer allow him this level of deference."

Sakura pursed her lips, her chin tucking against the file as she fidgeted to gather the pieces of paper back into it. Kakashi was stock-still, Icha Icha held firmly in his hand, his fingers pressing unusually deep creases into the cover. Why did she have to be the one to manage him? Chikako would be more patient, Yoko, more eager. "Shishou, I don't think-"

"He won't run off on you, don't worry." Tsunade cleared the air with a dismissive wave of her hand. "He knows he'll be off-duty for at least a year if he does." The older woman rotated, her clear, brown eyes meeting Sakura's uncertainty with compassion. "It's a lot for me to ask of you, but you're not being punished. I wasn't about to add insult to his injury by having a complete stranger invade his privacy. He may not agree with me right now, but this is for the best, long term. Bring anything you need here so that nobody sees him. I expect this will take your whole shift, and, potentially, then some. Send me a message right away if he decides to be a coward, but don't waste your time chasing him. Got it?"

"Yes, Hokage-sama."

"And," Tsunade glanced between Sakura's intimidated expression and Kakashi's posture of complete disregard, "you both need to stop looking so severe. It's an evaluation of his physical condition, not surgery." With a pat on Sakura's shoulder, and a glare towards the examination table over her own, Tsunade made her exit swift and with a bang, the door vibrating the wall and the hanging cabinet over the desk as it shut.

Sakura swallowed, frowned, and walked cautiously to the desk, placing the file down so that it wouldn't scatter its lopsided contents all over the floor. She sat slowly, as if in a daze and her hand robotically turned the front flap. After a cough, she looked back. "Do you mind if I take a few minutes to evaluate what needs to be done?" The soft scratching of a page of Icha Icha being turned stretched the remainder of Sakura's split nerves.

"Take all day."

It was tempting to verbally spar with Kakashi, as she was finding herself steadily more irritated with him. Instead, she clenched both fists and bent over the folder to study its contents. The situation was déjà-vu of mere days prior. He was calm. She felt thin and taut, her gall dissipating as she listened to the quiet sounds of him reading. It wasn't fair. She wished she could catch him off guard one time—just once. She carefully noted all of the tests and procedures that were overdue, the note growing so long she had to turn the sheet of paper over in order to complete her notes. Once it was complete, she shut the folder with a slap.

Kakashi peered over his novel. "You're really taking after her."

Sakura sighed, the stool squeaking as she pivoted around. "You have quite the talent for being irritating."

"It's hardly my goal."

With another sigh that came out like more of a groan, Sakura stood and crossed her arms. "Look, if you know of someplace you can hide where Shishou can't find you, I'll fill out your paperwork and stay in here long enough to make it seem believable."

Icha Icha drifted to the table; Kakashi's thumb still holding his spot. His eye hooded, a look of suspicious doubt and guilt coming over him. "Why would you offer me that?"

"You tried to protect me. The least I can do is protect you in return."

Kakashi delicately folded the corner of the page he had been reading and tucked it into a pocket on his flak jacket. He held his gaze with Sakura through the motion. She wondered when he would disappear. He inhaled deeply, and then exhaled. "That's very noble of you, but I can't let you interfere." With a shrug, he removed his flak jacket and held it out to her. "I'll sit still and let you work."

Sakura's green eyes stared at what had been offered to her, her eyebrows shooting up into the space of her forehead. "Did she beat you senseless before I arrived?" She meant to tease him—to laugh—but the words tumbled out more incredulously, her tone sarcastic. She flinched as the jacket was pushed closer, Kakashi's hitai-ate soon added to the stack, tucked under his thumb.

"I told you not to admire a man who would disobey orders."

Her hands took his clothing in an automatic gesture. She took uncertain steps towards the chair, placing them there with a sigh. "What does that have to do with this?"

"You tried to emulate my behavior. As your teacher, I need to set a better example." Kakashi's gaze was not following her anymore, dropped towards his chest to work the buttons on his shirt.

"Former," Sakura asserted. "You were trying to protect me so I'm trying to protect you. Insubordination is a means to an end."

The chuckling rang out against the walls in a way that made them feel pressed together. Kakashi's laughter was gentle, but firm; a sound that Sakura was usually overjoyed at the chance to hear, but now made her cross her arms bitterly and shift into her hip to glare at him. The Copy Ninja held his Sharingen firmly closed as he returned her stare. "Spoken like a true kunoichi. I cannot argue with that."

"Kakashi?"

"Mm?" He looked up, clearly still smiling beneath his mask, the last of his shirt buttons coming free.

Sakura was smiling too, her exasperation relinquished into sympathy. "We'll take it one step at a time. As long as you're comfortable with me, I can do it."

Though his eye flickered with concern, Kakashi pulled off his outer shirt and folded it, smiling cheerfully. "I trust you."

—

The physical was as tantalizing as it was anxiety inducing. Kakashi was grateful for Sakura's quick and efficient organization as she placed the tests from least personally invasive to most. The first few checked his resting, then post activity heart rate and blood pressure, his grip, his hearing, and his comprehension. He had felt a bit silly jumping up and down and jogging in place in the small, drab examination room with Sakura looking on—though occasionally checking her watch—but it was tolerable when he focused on the wall. Listening to her ask him questions was easy. Her voice was calming, yet demanded his focus. She measured his reflexes next, took blood samples, and left the room so he could provide other bodily fluids.

Her hands, as they had clutched his arm to get the blood sample, had initiated a shiver he had barely been able to control. Maintaining his cool felt more difficult in light of how considerate she was being. He adamantly wanted to be annoyed and uncomfortable, but as he sat, relaxed in the chair while she bent to place the cold needle against his skin, her bright pink hair tumbling across her green eyes, he felt languid, a daydream on the cusp of bursting forth and disquieting him. She left him with two jars awkwardly clutched in his hands before his mind had any real chance to wander. Had she really offered to let him escape all of this? It seemed like he had invented her reluctance to subject him to the tests, with how confidently she made her requests and gave him orders. She didn't return immediately once he had finished the samples, so he placed them on a collection cart she had brought earlier. He found himself lying on his back on the table, his heels tapping the cabinet beneath it, as he closed his eyes and tried to keep his mind empty.

Sakura had thrown him off guard when she had reneged on her prior habits. "Former," she had said, as if their status had always been so clear to her. He thought most teachers would have been broken hearted, but Kakashi felt a weight had been taken off of his shoulders. He had never wanted to be a teacher; getting the two, arguably most difficult, students and one immature, but ferociously spirited, kunoichi had been an even bigger surprise. Sakura had been the one he had just tried to keep alive. It had been his biggest failure as a teacher, one that both disturbed him and was the only outcome he could see regarding the circumstances. Turns out, she did fine on her own; found her own mentor; found her own way. Deep down, he recalled her like an observer of his journey with two knuckleheads. Yet, she was more than that; a spirit of faith that had kept him motivated on behalf of the other two. Maybe keeping her alive was a success he should claim. The other two were in spite of him. She had withstood the bitter rejections of an avenger. She had been able to redirect the anger of a lonely and jilted jinchuuriki. She had overcome Kakashi's expectations, teaching him a lesson about perseverance he would never forget. That was why it was so hard when she started in with, "Kakashi-sensei this," or "Kaka-sensei, that." As often as she claimed she had looked up to him, he would look at her and think that she had always deserved better. In that way, it was hard to accept becoming equals. She was measuring herself up to him when he wanted her to see that she had always been on a different journey, her potential far from his scale.

The worst part was that she respected him personally. Sakura had found a way to unobtrusively offer Kakashi deference that only a few of his peers had ever been able to consistently maintain. Without knowing his life story, she had come to accept the wall he had built around himself. The mask was an extension of him she looked at as if it really was his face. Ironically, it was that acceptance that tore down his need for a wall the fastest. Sakura was full of surprises; change made her rethink herself. He couldn't anticipate her motives. She didn't have a dream she was chasing. She didn't have driving guilt. She reacted to the needs of those she loved and met them head on. It reminded him painfully of the woman from his past. His secrets threatened to overwhelm her; his guilt promising that distance was safest.

"Do you mind me calling you sensei?" Kakashi had wiggled out of answering; still could not.

In the meantime, Sakura had found her own way.

The door opened and shut with a click, the heels of Sakura's shoes scraping across the floor as she entered. Kakashi was half-conscious, vying to postpone continuing the physical as long as he could. He realized as she pulled the stool over to the table, in line with his head, that he should have turned to look at the wall when he first heard the door open. He could feel her breath on his forehead as she leaned in. Her soft gasp, a pleased one, nearly made him tense up. She leaned back, giggling quietly, her hands rubbing her legs with a hesitant anticipation. He could swear he heard her lick her lips. She'd never get pulled for ANBU with her heart on her sleeve like this. She shifted.

"Kakashi?"

He didn't feel like a sleeping beauty. Waking up to the charming torture of her presence was hell.

"I don't think I've ever seen you asleep except on missions, and even then you're hardly sleeping."

She had watched him sleeping on missions?

"Is my breath that bad?"

Kakashi flipped open one eye. "What?"

Sakura was emphatically exhaling into her hand and sniffing when he looked up. Without lowering her hand she began to laugh, brightly—loudly. It was short lived, but she continued smiling happily as she stood and put her fists on her hips. "Did you think I was going to buy that lame act? I've been on enough missions with you to know what it looks like when you're making it seem like you're letting a genin take a watch."

Though he wondered if she was really amused by his ploy, Kakashi allowed himself to chuckle. "Naruto got a lot out of believing that he was on watch and you guys didn't get killed in the process. I'd say that's a victory."

Sakura snorted a laugh, her fingers pinching the bridge of her nose. "Oh, geeze."

As the moment wound down, Kakashi found himself studying the medic's vibrant expressions. There was so much joy in her face when they talked about Team 7, and, for the first time, he recognized a hint of the look he had admired during their talk days earlier. It returned as she stopped giggling and looked at him. The indescribable emotion was churning just below the surface of a cheerful, warm adoration. Goosebumps tickled his arms. He came back into focus as Sakura sat back on the stool, one hand tensely clutching the elbow of her other arm. She was staring back, her face shifting into awe and curiosity. He grew uncomfortable.

"Something wrong, Sakura?"

She nodded once, slowly. "Your sharingan."

It was open, Kakashi realized with surprise. He had been studying her face with it, a subconscious act that was becoming a dangerous habit. "Sorry, sorry." He lifted a hand to cover it. Sakura touched his wrist to stop him.

"We might as well examine it. If you want, we can get all of the most unpleasant stuff over with right now and the rest will be easy for you in comparison." She pulled out a scope, a tongue depressor, and a sealed package of cotton swabs and held them up. "The sharingan will be the most difficult for me. Letting me look in your throat will be the most difficult for you." She said it, a forced confidence and a pleading tone squeezing at the words.

Kakashi grimaced. She was losing her nerve. His anxiety begged him to take advantage of her loss of confidence. He coughed into a hand uncertainly.

Sakura wasn't to be discouraged. "What if I cover the upper half of your face? That way I never see your whole face together." That suggestion had come out assertively. Her green eyes nudging him, demanding that he give her a chance.

He sighed. "That's fine."

She slipped out a roll of gauze from the cabinet below the table and motioned for him to sit up. For a moment, when she first touched her fingers to the side of his face and held the gauze against him, his anxiety dissipated. She wound the cloth meticulously, in a way that was almost ritualistic. When she bumped his nose with her hand, she cursed under her breath. It was when she tucked in the end and put distance between them that Kakashi began to notice the sweat rolling down the back of his neck. He could hear her uneven and uncertain breaths as she shifted, fretfully surveying her work.

"Does it feel like it will stay?"

"Mm." It was difficult to push even that much out of his throat.

The old Sakura would have fidgeted endlessly, would have gone back and forth debating, coaching her self into action, and whining openly.

His breath unwittingly caught in his throat as her fingers slipped between his mask and his cheek, cool and smooth. He realized the error he had made in agreeing to cover his eyes. A stressful moment was now an erotic one. The daydreams he had been successfully suppressing came to him in a flash. He inhaled and stiffened, she flinched back, and there followed a tense moment where they both sat, breathing. The fear he had felt when he had lost his eye as a genin went skittering about in the recesses of his consciousness. With one hand he stripped off the gauze, likewise ensuring his eyes revealed none of the uncertainty he was feeling. Her green eyes stared wide into his, her gaze settling on the black one.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

Kakashi grimaced.

She cleared her throat. "Maybe it's better if you do it for yourself?"

He could hardly believe she wasn't more aggravated with how long it was taking to remove a piece of fabric. Was removing the mask bothering him or was it Sakura? He touched his cheek, hooked a finger over the fold in the fabric she had made with her effort, but his hand relaxed, his nerve dissipating.

Before it could fall away, Sakura's hand gripped it. She twined her fingers in-between the cloth and his skin, palm over the back of his hand. She had stood up to stop him; her eyes level with his chin. She looked ready to tear the thing off.

With his chest tightening, Kakashi waited for her to rationalize the situation. She would reassure him, tell him he was being pathetic. He waited for it.

She drew her eyes down and to the side. "I'll help you, but you have to start."

When had her face become flushed?

His hand moved involuntarily. At the first hesitation, where he regained control of his appendage, he felt her hand grip him. He surrendered. The mask slipped, ribbing as it bunched over his chin before lurching past to scrunch around his throat. The hospital air caressed and cooled the exposed skin in seconds.

Sakura was wavering; one finger still hooked into the mask against his throat, her expression a reserved form of wonder and approval. It was the most complex yet positive expression he had ever seen her make in his direction. They were observing each other. He began wishing she would compliment him, or kiss him. Anything to confirm that revealing himself had meant something to her. It suddenly mattered. He could picture her leaning forward and pressing her lips against his, climbing up onto the table with him so she could confess her feelings. He wanted her to do it. It would be ok, unlike if he came onto her, unintentionally coercing her into it because he was someone she looked up to.

She released him. Turning quickly to fidget with her supplies. Her hands were shaking as she collected up the scope. Kakashi fell into a fervent daydream, his eyes collecting every detail of the way she moved, translating them into ways that she might come onto him. She was probably nervous because she was anticipating him making a cowardly escape, but it was easy to hope she was breathless at the sight of his mouth. Her trembling made him think of ways to turn it into a shudder. He wished her white, medical coat wasn't hiding so much of her body even though he knew what was there. He had imprinted to memory her slender, slightly rounding shoulders and the womanly rounding in her hips that was scarcely hiding the remaining slightness of her girlhood. When she returned and began going through the procedures and recording her notes, he was already deeply entrenched in hazy fantasy.

It was a more enjoyable coping process than wearing a mask, anyway.

He closed his eyes and indulged himself when she palpated his face and his throat. When she peered down his throat with the scope, he imagined her pulling away the cloth from his neck and pressing her mouth to it. She instructed him to lie back on the table. Her hands palpated his stomach, brushing along the lower portion of his abdomen by sneaking under the waist of his pants. He thought it would feel nice if she slid her hands up from there, up his sides, to his chest. Then she could kiss him again, for longer.

He didn't realize she had put his undershirt back down until she was pulling at his arm to sit him up. When he looked at her face, it was full of worry.

"Sorry, Sakura," he muttered.

Her hands, now warm with the work she had done, squeezed his shoulders. She went back to the desk, writing quietly for a time, which gave Kakashi a chance to revisit reality. He wondered if she had said anything to him that he had been unresponsive to. The sound of her scribbling paused.

"The sharingan is the last thing I'm going to observe today. You can pull your mask back up if you want."

Kakashi did so, the fabric pressing against the bridge of his nose in a comforting way. He couldn't tell from the way she was hunched over the desk whether or not she was upset, only that she was absorbed in thought. He looked towards his clothes, still folded up in the corner. "Weren't there other things you needed to do to update my file?"

There was a quiet pause, where the pen Sakura was using hovered over the paper. It set back to scribbling with a sharp scratch of its tip against the paper. "No. I need the last hour or so of my shift to clean up. Plus, I think, based on the results of today, that I can prove to Shishou that further testing would be overindulgent. If she disagrees, I'll let you know."

As she returned to writing, Kakashi hopped off of the table and retrieved his clothing. He put it on loosely, not bothering to button the shirt or zip the flak jacket. He kept the hitai-ate in his hand as he returned to the table to lean on it, instead of sitting.

Sakura stood and straightened her shirt with a smile in his direction. "So, I understand the principles of the sharingan and how to test it, but I haven't done the procedure before."

"I've been through it once or twice." He meant it as a reassurance, only realizing afterwards that she had probably seen it in the file.

"Once, when you got it and the second when you discovered you couldn't turn it off?" Her fingers counted off her guesses and she cocked her head at him, begging him to argue.

"Something like that." He stuffed his hands into his pockets.

Sakura nodded knowingly. "Was there ever difficulty completing the procedure? Any anomalies?"

"No, all normal." Kakashi nodded towards his file. "Wouldn't there be a report on it?"

"Konoha is full of secrets sometimes," she said with a shrug. "I read reports that spoke of complications when I was learning, and there were recorded instances of the person receiving the examination having a complication when the examiner did not, though rare. You're the type to keep that to yourself, which I don't mean as a criticism. I assume its better to ask directly from the horse's mouth." He raised his eyebrows at her, but said nothing. She bit her lip. "So, anyway, since you've been through it, we'll start and I'll talk you through anything you forget."

"I'll let you know if you miss a step, but by then it might be too late." He stared up at the ceiling and forced a jilted regret into his voice.

He was rewarded with an angry, "Hey!" the kunoichi's cheeks puffing up as she hit him on the upper arm with indignation. "Seriously? Don't make me nervous!"

"You can't be more nervous than I am," he continued joking. His mind started in on a follow-up quip, "You said this was your first time," but he guiltily swallowed it.

She punched him again, harder. "Sometimes, I really can't believe you." She laughed along with his chuckling, despite her annoyance, and set to work positioning herself to face him from the side, one hand over his sharingan and the other over the back of his head. At her height, she had to press up against his arm to get comfortable.

Kakashi took a deep breath, forgetting to exhale as warm chakra flowed into his eye.

Measuring the operating state of a sharingan was a moderately difficult procedure. The examiner would need to do three things: first, check the sight, second, check the strength of the chakra flow from the user and, third, confirm that there were no blockages when the sharingan was activated. All of this had to be tested by feeling with chakra, because physically looking resulted in being pulled into the genjutsu. If the examiner focused too hard, or the user directed the genjutsu haphazardly, then the examiner could be pulled in anyway, or their chakra could be overwhelmed and damage the pathways in the hand, depending on the strength of the user.

Sakura probed Kakashi's eye tentatively, with her own eyes closed. "Is there a lot of pressure or does it feel ok?"

Kakashi hesitated. "It's fine," he breathed.

"Yet, you sound as aggravated as I do when Naruto is cheerful in the morning."

He grimaced. "That bad, eh?" He fought back the urge to shift away from her body pressing up against his arm.

"Ok. I'm ready to start. Can you focus your eye? Now unfocus it as slowly as you can. Do both of those again."

Kakashi's desire to disappear from the room was rising up on its haunches. Sakura experiencing so much of him in one afternoon had left him with an unintelligible mix of feelings. It had been a long time since anyone had gotten this close to him.

"When you create the genjutsu, focus on creating something pleasant. Think about an experience you would enjoy."

Sakura was still carrying on the procedure without his focus. He could hear her talking, and knowing it was essential that he completed each task correctly, tried to concentrate. The only pleasant thing he could think of was reading Icha Icha. He would gladly be off somewhere quiet doing that instead of standing in a stuffy hospital room that smelled like medical salve and cherry blossoms; the second was Sakura's perfume, he realized contentedly. He rerouted his brain. There was a scene in Icha Icha where the main character had convinced the object of his affections to meet him in a forest full of cherry blossom trees. It was one of the most touching and romantic encounters in the book. The main character, abandoned by his mother in that glen, devised returning to that spot to make love to his woman so that he could overcome his fear of abandonment. That scene had been wickedly graphic. He pictured it easily. In the meantime, he continued trying to finish creating the genjutsu, one that would take its subject to a forest of cherry blossom trees. Sakura's breasts were pressing uncomfortably against his shoulder. She deserved better than an old man's perverted attention he railed to himself, shoving the thought away and continuing to imagine soft, pink petals dancing on a breeze. He imagined the way they would pile up on the ground, like pastel snow. It would have tumbled across the lovers' bodies in waves as they connected passionately.

A painful pressure in the sharingan pulled Kakashi out of his trance. Sakura's body slumped against him, toppling like a rag doll. He caught her arm before her head hit the floor, but his own head was spinning, vision blurry. He knelt to the floor with her, barely able to comprehend the situation as his other hand fumbled along her neck, looking for a pulse. By time he found it, her eyes were fluttering open, her breaths coming in small gasps. He gripped her shoulder to reassure her that he was there. "Are you ok?"

Sakura looked at his face as she was overcome with emotion. She appeared on the verge of tears. The expression changed quickly, exhaustion and grief overwhelming her as her body trembled. She sat up, looking like she might retch, though as the sensation seemed to pass, she curled away from Kakashi to lean on one arm, the other covering her mouth.

Kakashi leaned back against the table cabinet with a wheeze. "I don't know what happened."

"You idiot." Sakura had pressed the words out through clenched teeth and from behind her hand, barely audible.

"Sakura-"

"Was that supposed to be some kind of joke?" She choked on the sentence, following it up by shifting onto her knees away from him. She clung to the top of the desk to remain sitting up. "What's with that stupid face? Do you even realize that you put me in a genjutsu?"

Kakashi sat up. He had never accidentally put anyone in a genjutsu. Was that even possible?

"That genjutsu-" she fell silent, her shuddering breaths filling both of their ears. "Was it a joke?" she asked, her voice rising to a cracking pitch.

"I don't know." Kakashi ran a hand through his silver hair. "I wasn't in it with you."

Sakura gripped the desktop and bent over, swallowing forcibly several times. "Idiot! I said something pleasant—I can't believe all of that," she was rambling.

"What happened?" He was succumbing to worry, though Sakura being angry and calling him names was hardly the reason.

For the first time since she had come to, Sakura stopped looking angry, instead making a guilty look. "I don't know. It might have been my fault. Your chakra was rerouting every time I tried to examine its pathway. It felt like I was being pushed out so I strengthened what I was putting in—the genjutsu sucked me under, but once I was there-" she tore her gaze away from Kakashi to stare at the wall. "You were there, but I couldn't see your face."

He nodded slowly, his shoulders hunching. "It must have been a projection, I created a space, not a scenario."

"Projections don't touch you," she snapped.

"This one did?"

She softened her grip on the desk, turning to sit with her back against it, facing the wall. "That's how I know it was you."

Kakashi found his hitai-ate on the floor behind him and lifted it up to his face, tying it over his sharingan. "The genjutsu should have been a glen with cherry blossom trees."

"That was there. What else were you thinking about?"

He didn't want to say.

"Kakashi?"

"It's not-"

"Was it unintentional?" The daze had sunken into her face, wilting her posture. Her hand was shaking where it rested over her thigh.

"I had no intention of hurting you," he said, regaining control over his voice so that it sounded calm. He pulled himself sluggishly to his feet. "Should I get one of the other nurses for you? Or Tsunade?"

"I'm not hurt."

"You're going into shock. Tsunade could-"

Sakura's exasperation peaked, her body stiffening. Her next words were shouted out. "Only you can help me understand this."

Kakashi slouched, his eye hooding as he stuffed his hands into his pocket. "Blind leading the blind."

Sakura rolled onto her hands and knees with achy effort. Her chakra had clearly been expended resisting and breaking the genjutsu. "That's stupid. I know it wasn't real, but I still felt what was happening."

"I know how genjutsu works."

She glared up at him, from all fours, her hands shakily pushing her weight over her knees. "Then tell me how you accidentally created a projection with the ability to interact?"

"Sakura, I'm going to get Tsunade so she can check you over." He was trying to stay calm and shift her focus. He didn't want to hear her admit his weakness.

"You expect me to wait here alone, as if I can stay calm, after you make love to me in a genjutsu?"

Kakashi's heart stopped, his chest tightening as it returned to a rapid flutter. A bitter taste filled his mouth as his throat clenched shut. He had considered it. He had been distracted and careless with his focus. With her being the source of his stress, the sharingan had treated her as an enemy. He couldn't recall ever attempting to daydream while creating a genjutsu. Dreams were powerful. His stomach sank. At a loss for words, he stared at her crouched form, his expression locked in a deadpan.

Sakura's green eyes searched his face desperately as she covered her mouth and tucked her chin to hold back her nausea. She sucked in air. "Can you understand how I feel right now? It's not like you to make that kind of mistake, so was it intention-?"

Without the slightest attempt to catch her pleading gaze, Kakashi felt the ache in his chest turn stony. "Tsunade," he rasped out, interrupting her. "I'm going to get her."

Before Sakura could object again, the door opened and shut. The smoke of his transportation swelled into the room through the crack under the door.