Chapter 10
Brief glances in her direction might confuse the wayward observer into thinking that she—Konoha's top med-nin—was shuffling her way down the dirt road, much like an old woman crippled by the weight of too many hard years. Sakura walked slowly, hands deep in her coat pockets, file folders tucked under one arm. She stared at the ground in front of her, taking each step for what it was worth, while hoping that she was trying not to stumble.
She was a coward.
She grimaced. After all these years, not once had she offered to go fight Oto-nins on Konoha's border. Much to her relief, Shikamaru had never assigned her onto any of those missions, either. She shuddered. The mere thought of a chance meeting with Sasuke again sent a trail of needles down her spine, coupled with a rising tide of burning nausea.
She should've killed him when she had the chance.
She bit her lip to keep back the tide of regret and self-loathing that threatened to swallow her whole each time she did think about her first love. There was a small (absolutely miniscule, she assured herself) part of her that actually anticipated their infiltration into Oto's stronghold. This part of her raged, craved to spill his blood, make him suffer… Again. She took a deep breath. And then there was another part of her that was twelve-years-old again, seeing him blink up at her, barely conscious, tell her she was heavy… She remembered how relieved she'd been.
You can never forget anyone you've loved.
She stopped. To her side, the door to her apartment complex waited, and beyond that, the stairs to her apartment… And his. She was still, and continued to face away from them, gaze soldered to her sandaled feet. The dream was still fresh in her memory, or the other way around—she didn't know anymore, she didn't want to know… She couldn't shake the fact that it had occurred nearby, much too close for her to not feel the process of an already scarred heart being shred into pieces resonate from the walls, the floor, this place…
She needed to repaint her toenails; the green nail polish was chipping.
She looked up towards her and Naruto's windows, the weak sun glinting off both of them. Naruto's plants moved a little, encouraged by a breeze. She'd left his window open last time she cleaned it.
Sakura sighed and moved to take her building keys from a pouch on the side of her kunai holster. Usually, she'd simply skip the formalities provided by her civilian landlord and just jump to her window, but she wasn't in the mood. A pale hand gripped the doorknob while from the other dangled her keys. She made no further movement to open the door. Then, she took a step back. Keys returned to her kunai holster and Naruto's plants waved goodbye to the pink-haired figure walking quickly away.
She didn't know where she was taking herself. Sakura let her feet do the work while her thoughts ceased. She was tired of thinking, remembering, feeling. She didn't know what she wanted or what she needed to do… No, she knew what she needed to do, but she was terrified of it. Solemn green eyes rose to look ahead.
…She felt trapped…
Her attention suddenly returned to her surroundings. She felt her hands clench into tight fists within her pockets. A breeze carrying a few leaves slowly moved past her as she stood stiffly in front of an all-too-familiar stone bench…
Scream still raw in her throat, she skidded to a stop a few yards away from the cliff's edge.
He stood between her and the gorge, bloodied blade extended toward her, its hilt in a light grip. When did he get so many tattoos?
Her heart pumped in her chest, every painful beat a sore reminder that she was afraid... So afraid of what she'd seen… She needed to get into that gorge to check on Naruto… In case… Her hands shook, and she felt her insides churn in fear—
No.
She refused to accept that he didn't survive—
She couldn't.
He always made it, she assured herself.
She wiped stray tears from her cheeks with a resolute fist.
Always.
She took a deep breath; she had to focus on the huge problem standing in front of her. Naruto will be all right. Her teeth clenched. She shook from the effort to hold down her emotions. Her head and heart needed to be clear if she expected to fight Sasuke and live to breathe through another day. She had a chance—he looked thoroughly worn out from his fight with Naruto…
Though so was she.
"Sakura."
Her eyes snapped toward his cold ones.
Two small scrolls were pulled quickly from her vest and the resulting puff of smoke cleared, moving around her in wisps, to reveal a glaring green gaze, and two oversized axes gripped tightly in bloodied hands. The head of each was emblazoned with an artistic version of Konoha's fire emblem, while the metal hafts were wrapped tightly with cured leather.
Sasuke frowned.
Sakura quickly checked how much chakra she had. She gritted her teeth—not much. Her previous fights with Sasuke's men and the frantic rushed journey here had definitely worn her out more than she'd like. She studied Sasuke—he wasn't in the most opportune condition, either. There were streaks of dried blood coursing down his face. She nodded grimly—Naruto had forced him to use the Mangenkyou Sharingan.
Her stance shifted, axes rotating in a test spin as her wrists adjusted to their weight. She hadn't practiced with these in a while… His Sharingan spun lazily as his katana suddenly ignited with crackling blue electricity. She took a deep breath, and charged, her long hair streaming behind her. If only she'd cut it beforehand.
The blades of her axes crashed against his katana with an earsplitting shock. Through the glow of her chakra running through her weapons, and the lightning sparking so near her face, she saw his lips tighten as his boots steadily lost ground. She gritted her teeth and forced more chakra into her axes, intent on pushing him backwards, over the cliff's edge. Sakura swiftly back flipped away, leaving one of her axes trapped behind to escape the swipe of the second katana Sasuke had suddenly summoned. He contemptuously knocked the huge blade away, with some difficulty, but found her defensive retreat cut short as she took a swing for his head before she landed. He ducked; she leapt into a handstand to escape the low double swipe from his blades. Her empty hand twitched, the axe Sasuke had tossed forty feet away swung into action. Chakra strings danced from her fingertips as Sasuke parried with the possessed blade. Chakra-strung hand still in motion, she charged forward, throwing her remaining axe into the air, and forming quick one-handed seals with her now free hand—
"Suiton: Mizurappa!"
The water streaming from her lips in a deadly spray clashed with a sizzle against Sasuke's Katon: Gōkakyu no Jutsu. She jumped through the resulting smoke screen, catching the axe she'd thrown, and brought the blade swiftly down, splitting the earth Sasuke had just occupied. He slid away, sending dancing balls of fire her way. She broke the chakra strings from her fingertips, the axe she was manipulating speeding into the ground with a resounding crash, and stuck the blade of the axe she still had firmly into the ground. Quick hand seals: Tiger, Serpent, Tiger. A protective vortex of water quickly swirled upwards around her. She felt his fireballs strike and dissipate against her liquid shield. She quickly unstuck her axe from the ground and brought it up to parry Sasuke's downward attack, the metals squealing as they ground against each other. Sasuke found bearing against the side of her summoned shield and crashed through it in a flurry of broken water to dodge the chakra scalpel now edging her empty hand. She followed him, continuing to relentlessly swing at him with a mixture of tempered steel and her own chakra. As she struck over and over, she couldn't help but silently thank Rock Lee and Kakashi, who'd both trained her to be fast enough to overcome a basic Sharingan. The complex genjutsu she'd created also helped—it blurred the outlines of her figure into her surroundings, not making her invisible, but definitely difficult to pinpoint. The fact that the genjutsu and/or henge was activated onto herself instead of onto Sasuke was her way of beating the Uchiha bloodline's adeptness at identifying illusions—they usually only identified ones that were used offensively on them.
Chakra scalpel dissipated to be replaced with a few chakra strings as she directed her other axe to return to her hand. Two katanas now clashed in sparks against two axe blades. Lightning was absent from his katanas, as blue chakra didn't flow through her axes—they were both worn out. Their weapons locked; Sakura was heaving and Sasuke was breathing heavily. Loosened dust and dirt swirled around them. The sky was dark and dank. Sakura took the moment to look up into his eyes.
The way they looked in the moments he joked around with Naruto, the way they looked resolutely away when she fawned over him hopefully, the way they looked the last time he told her she was annoying, the way they looked when, fifteen and disillusioned, she'd tried to kill him…
She felt her heart break again.
His black eyes were tar pools of contempt, mired in hatred and loathing. The slight curl to his upper lip was visible through the dirt and cuts marring his ivory complexion…
His eyes were so different now.
No.
She gritted her teeth as she remembered how his sword had so guiltlessly slid through Naruto's body. Nostalgia burned away—
Make him pay.
Two axes clanked to the ground, as the hands they'd been clenched in were suddenly alive with murderous blue chakra. They made for his throat and he flipped away, but as he landed, the ground collapsed from the force of the punch she'd sent toward the ground. She artfully and easily maneuvered through the destroyed and volatile landscape and brought her arm back to send another chakra-laden swing his way. He dodged, her fist moving through air, and sent a barrage of hundreds of shurikens her way. She ducked behind a loosened boulder, but then moved swiftly away, as Sasuke pierced the rock where she just was. The boulder split into pieces as he removed his blades with a snarl, proceeding to swerve through the avalanche of hefty stones she sent careening his way.
She skidded to a stop on firmer ground and tried to catch her breath. As Sasuke also took the time to gain steady footing, she ripped a few stray shurikens from her back and arms. Task accomplished, her fingertips became alive with more chakra strings as she directed their ends to her axes—
She gasped and looked shakily down at the katana end protruding from her stomach…
"Sakura!"
She could barely hear Ino's scream as Shikamaru held the blond back. The remaining members of Rookie 13 who had finished their fights had been watching Team 7 break all over again. They hesitated at the edge of the clearing, afraid to interfere, afraid to do nothing.
A choked noise and blood escaped her lips as Sasuke drove the blade in deeper. Chakra strings dispersed as her hands moved to shakily wrap themselves around the blade. She held onto it tightly, as Sasuke tried to remove it—
She wouldn't let him escape from stabbing two of the few who still cared about him in the back.
A quick chakra-enhanced kick backwards, and Sasuke gave a short grunt as his knee split into itself. His grip on the katana loosened as he lost his balance, and Sakura swung around, fist heading for his face. She sent the Onkyoukage thirty yards away, cheek and jawbone fractured, before she herself collapsed onto the ground on her knees. She swiftly ripped the blade from her gut and gasped as green chakra quickly flooded the wound. She leaned heavily on her hands, tearing bloody fingers through the dry earth, as the wound closed slowly. She looked forward, to the fallen form of white robes and pale skin, and spit blood as she stood up shakily, before turning around swiftly, freezing as she was confronted with bloody tears and the Mangenkyou Sharingan.
Her world was in black flames—
As she felt it burn above her from her earthen cradle. She waited patiently below Sasuke's feet, hiding her chakra signature until she regained her breath—she'd never used this Doton ninjutsu so quickly before, and her chakra pathways were somewhat in shock. There—
Her breathing was steady again.
She broke through the ground as her fist plunged upward for Sasuke's chin. He moved quickly back, ducking to avoid her kick, although her sharp eyes noticed that he didn't take the effort of dodging the loosened rocks that came careening up with her. He skidded to a stop a few feet away. She straightened, her back warm from Amaterasu's unquenchable rage. The knuckles of her fist were white and caked in red.
He straightened slowly, breathing heavily as he stared her down. There was no need for words anymore. They both understood their fates—
Suddenly, Sakura felt the breath leave her lungs. The green chakra that she'd sent through fissures in the ground, to where Naruto's body lay, told her only one thing… There was nothing to heal. There was no pulse, no breath…
He was cold.
Trying to stay upright, she desperately tried to focus on this nightmare standing in front of her, instead of on the one that waited for her thousands of feet below. Defeated and spent, she crumpled onto her knees, throat choking with sobs she was trying to suppress with a hand gripping the skin around her mouth, nails raising blood on her cheek, while her other hand clawed into the cloth covering her chest. Her wide-open eyes stared with disbelief, as she began shaking her head subconsciously.
He's all right.
Escaped sob.
He was supposed to be all right.
His killer—soon to be hers—was walking steadily towards her, pausing merely a foot away. His foot came up to nudge her shoulder, her body collapsing easily from the almost-gentle push. Sprawled on the ground, bloody, pale, she was now empty, her face already lifeless as it faced her comrades on the clearing edge. She made out Ino fighting against both Shikamaru and Chouji's white-knuckled grips. Their faces were broken as well. But she could only think of the man lying in the cliff below her, saw his face beside hers. She moved a hand to touch his whiskered cheek—
It froze midair as his katana sliced through her throat.
It was quite the pretty picture, she thought, as she stood behind Sasuke. Tears had coursed tracks through the grime marring her face, but they were long since dry. He turned slowly as her compromised kage bunshin dispersed.
There was not a shred of sympathy left in her eyes.
Sasuke sliced at them, blood spurting into the air as she fell like a stone, only to sink into a flurry of petals that wrapped around him, sticking to every inch of him. He swatted away at the relentless flowers, scratching at them—they kept sticking—his katanas were soon being used as scrapers, although he wasn't being too careful. Pausing suddenly in his quest to slice himself into bits, he blinked, the heavy genjustu being released immediately. She still stood there, in front of him, pale and resolved, cold murder pouring from every pore.
And so their genjutsu battle commenced, each frozen like a stone, only a few feet separating them, as they mercilessly cut into each other with every secret, every shared memory—every weakness. He attacked her with her unrequited love for him, she tore at him with memories of a smiling and martyred Itachi, he let her relive Naruto's demise, she let Itachi murder the Uchiha clan only to look into a mirror and see Sasuke's face, he mocked her easy tears and powerlessness, she played at his immaturity and close-mindedness…
Their eyes closed and his opened to her fist crashing into his face once again. This time, she followed his descent, kicking away his katanas with two tornado kicks, shattering his wrists in the process. She straddled his fallen form, punching and punching and punching for whatever her weak fists were worth. Her assault paused as she heaved for breath, grabbing the scruff of his shirt.
"WHY?"
He remained silent, mocking her with his eyes, self-righteousness bleeding into his glare.
She punched him into the dirt again, and jerked him up again by the throat.
"TELL ME WHY!" Her voice broke, as her anger set loose tears she'd hoped she'd never show this man again.
He stayed silent, his Sharingan failing to activate as she leeched chakra from him. She grimaced as she felt his chakra enter her system like a poison—she punched him quickly again to release it.
Again.
Sickening crunch of bone against bone.
Again.
Again!
She kept leeching his chakra and punching him until his face was almost unrecognizable from bruises and blood. She hissed as she stole his last bit of chakra. Her knuckles were a bloody mess as they came down, determined to disfigure the still handsome face staring up at her. But despite her attacks, despite her tears, she couldn't drain that sickening smile from his face or the arrogance housed in his eyes.
Through the cuts, rapidly forming bruises, and broken bones, he simply looked up at her, plainly conveying what they both knew, 'You couldn't kill me.'
Her face broke as her anger dissolved and weariness overcame her. She fisted her hands into his shirt and bent over double, head bent in vulnerability and the moment before defeat, realizing faintly that tears were still trailing down her face. She remotely felt his hands press against her back.
He was holding her, broken wrists and all. She felt his lips breathe into her ear—
"Kill me."
She opened her eyes in shock—
And then blocked her chakra system.
Sasuke stared at her from across the clearing, his face not the pretty mess she'd left it in his genjutsu...
If only…
She charged, boots cracking the ground, remaining chakra edging her hands, dodging the trails of lightning he again sent swerving her way. She hissed, as she wasn't fast enough to evade one. She ignored the rapidly burning skin of her exposed right side, her jounin shirt and pants slowly disintegrating as her boot melted against her right calf. She leapt to avoid his roundhouse kick, and flipped in the air, turning over and spiraling downwards, edged chakra now cloaking her entire body as she dove for his upturned face. He swerved aside as she destroyed the ground on impact. He leapt to avoid finding footing on the rapidly forming crater, and his katana sliced through the kunais she'd aimed at his jugular, lungs, and heart.
She felt her knee suddenly give way, as her healing chakra failed. She shuddered; her body was going into septic shock…
NO.
Not yet—
She pushed from the ground to dodge Sasuke's katanas, her hands fumbling for her kunai holster. She noted that he was gray and short of breath. Her lips tightened—good; he won't be using Susanoo, Tsukiyomi, or Kirin any time soon.
With both hands armed with kunai, she tried to avoid clashing blade with blade—these standard issue kunai didn't have the ability to house her chakra as her axes did and wouldn't parry against his katana. She faltered, losing footing again as her knees gave way for a second—a second which cost her three quick and deep slices into her vulnerable back. She doubled over from the pain, biting her lower lip as she mustered enough chakra to destroy the ground before her again with a wild punch, interfering with Sasuke's incoming killing blow.
Keep fighting…
They were using only taijutsu, as they were both now weaponless.
…
Sakura blocked his kick with two crossed arms, sliding down on one foot to send a heeled boot crashing into his gut and then his chin. As he reeled back from the blows, he caught her with a kick to her cheek.
…
Soon, dry dirt and brown grass cradled their collapsed forms, as both heaved and struggled to stand. Sasuke's arm made a quick movement, hundreds of black-scaled snakes with green eyes erupted in an avalanche from his sleeve, shooting for her huddled and gasping form.
She felt her throat constrict, her bloody and cracked lips tightening over teeth in a silent scream—
Agonizing pain.
Every inch of her body was pierced by their unforgiving fangs.
Venom coursed through her veins, eating away at her flesh from the inside out—
She gritted her teeth.
She had enough—just enough strength to—
The snakes writhed against her—their teeth disintegrating from the slug poison now soaring through her bloodstream. The green acid neutralized the snake venom and bubbled up from her wounds to coat her skin. As his snakes shuddered in their dying throes, she ripped them aside with shaking hands, crawling through their carcasses towards Sasuke's fallen form. As she pulled herself closer, she blinked away blood to clear her vision, and saw his muscles shaking from spasms he was trying desperately to control. His face turned towards her, unable to look away, he watched her approach, his eyes ever-remaining chips of obsidian.
Her poison-slicked hands and knees slid and slipped against the earth. Soon, she was forced to fist the earth and drag herself towards him. Short of breath, she collapsed beside him, barely able to control her hand as it moved for his throat, her eyes still fighting against his cold gaze. Her hand struggled uselessly against his icy skin, shaking and unable to maintain a grip tight enough to cut off his air.
Her hand stilled, surrendering, lifeless against his chest…
The air was quiet, interrupted only by the disturbances of loose dust and distant battle cries. A kunoichi and a rogue ninja lay (her on her side, him on his back), both battle-torn, both haunted by the past, both scarred by the present. Her hair formed a dark pink halo around her tired eyes and bloody lips. His bangs fell over his forehead in black strokes, brushing his finally expressionless eyes. They simply stared at each other, each trying to convey some wordless message to the other through their shared gaze. But for all their wistfulness to loyalties of the past, their eyes weren't windows to their souls—not to each other.
His hand, long stripped of its black armguard, achingly moved for her face. It paused at her neck, resting its weight on the crook of her shoulder, and lay still.
He was so cold.
They both understood.
Her hand moved from his chest to cover his eyes.
His hand moved from her neck to the dirt in front of her face, fisting it in pain as she cut his ocular nerves with the remainder of her chakra. He made no sound. A glimmer of blue in the fist of his other hand caught her attention. She sluggishly extracted it from his grasp and clung to it with every last bit of strength she could muster.
Naruto.
Sakura felt herself being slowly pulled up and away by strong hands.
Shikamaru.
As he cradled her, Ino set to work healing what she could. Sakura felt herself blink slowly as some of her wounds began to close. She saw Ino's grim eyes, Shikamaru's grim face—
She turned her head slowly to look at the handsome, pale, unconscious profile of her former teammate—tears of blood streaking down his temples…
I'm sorry…
Oto-nins soon clouded her vision of him. Shikamaru had orchestrated an armistice with Sasuke's second-in-command. They were bearing their kage away on a stretcher.
I'm so sorry…
She suddenly pushed Ino's hands away, and made to stand, despite Shikamaru's pleading hold. She saw him…
His blond hair was spilling over the stretcher Konohamaru and a few other war-torn jounins were carrying…
Let me see him—
She buried her head further into her knees, her back cold from the unwillingness of the stone bench to accept her warmth. She was tempted to lie down, but Sakura knew that she would never willingly lie down on this cold, cold bench again. And that she never should.
Her feet swung to the ground from their perch on the bench. She stood and straightened.
Walking back towards her apartment, her steps sure and strong, her eyes set in a resolute glare, Sakura finally understood that there was no point in avoiding fate.
Their fate—Team 7's—
Was to be broken.
She'd once made the mistake of leaving Sasuke and Naruto alone to battle out their rivalry, their incomprehensible bond… Self-centered and blinded by the past, she'd once interfered, convinced that she was some motivation behind their personal war. Truth settled in to make sure she abandoned those thoughts, but… Just because she wasn't a reason, didn't mean she wasn't a part of their fight. Not realizing this, she'd abandoned Naruto and Sasuke to their avoidable fates.
Didn't she swear to protect them?
She'd made this mistake, and it'd cost her everything: three years ago, Sasuke had managed to destroy everything that Konoha embodied—honor, bravery, strength, loyalty—by killing the one man to whom Konoha was unshakably everything and vice versa.
And she'd let him.
She helped him.
Her hands clenched into fists.
But never again.
Not this time—
Sasuke…
OOO
Her apartment was quiet and cold when she arrived. Straightening from pulling off her boots, she suddenly noticed a painting hanging by her door. Double-checking the kitchen to note an empty plastic carton, stripped of the dango it had carried, she muttered under her breath, "Sai." The pea brain had left a note under the painting. Ripping it off impatiently and squinting to read his exquisitely small handwriting, she made out in the dim light: The only one that won't break when you look into it.
One brow lifted in confusion. Then, she looked up to the beautifully designed, abstractly drawn mirror staring back at her. The note crumpled in her hand as a vein throbbed visibly in her temple. No wonder the bastard hung this when she wasn't home.
In a huff, she stomped her way to the kitchen, grabbing a bit of tape from a drawer, and stomped back to the painting. Actions betraying the air huffing from her nostrils in bestial-like puffs, her fingers gently smoothed away the wrinkles she'd created in the note. She taped it securely on the wall beside the painting and took a step back.
He was right.
It did belong there.