(thump. thump. thump.)
"Sasuke-kun, not tonight—I need my sleep."
Grunt. "Why."
"I have an infiltration mission tomorrow. Please, let me rest? We've been doing this for an entire week."
You're trying so hard. But sometimes, that won't get you anywhere.
"Infiltration doesn't call for any physical endurance."
(glare.)
"Just—just stop for a while, okay? I'm on my period, anyway."
Pause. "Fine."
I can't bear to tell you.
(thump. thump. thump.)
She smiled softly, sadly. "Sorry. I—I don't remember anything."
Sasuke took his time answering. "You said there was one more type of stimulus?"
"Yeah. Emotional. If I've felt a strong feeling before I lost my memories, and it's triggered again…I might remember." It was their last chance.
(she couldn't let him down.)
"You weren't exactly capable of feeling anything when we first met." He looked tired—she'd never seen him so worn before, except for after Naruto's death.
She bowed her head, unable to look at him. "Sorry." She sniffed a little when he stepped towards her, arms encircling her, almost in a parental manner. The frustration formed as tears—but she held them in easily. He'd probably scold her for ruining his shirt.
"Don't be." She felt his chin rest on the top of her head, one of his hands balling up in shirt in a fist.
For long while, they just stood that way—Sasuke holding her, her arms hanging limp at her side. She felt a little like a doll, or soft toy of some sort—only used for comfort, but abandoned and forgotten once the sun was high in the sky, and bed was the last place to be.
But she shouldn't be thinking that. She was more than a doll to Sasuke.
(it was what kept her from falling apart.)
"I love you." The words were abrupt and clumsy in her voice, coming from her lips—but they were real, and they were sincere. She felt him hold his breath, and she shut her eyes tight. She had said something wrong.
"You don't." His voice was quiet, but not angry.
"I do," she insisted, pressing her face into the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent. "I do."
"You don't even know what love is."
(why didn't he believe her?)
"It must be something like this," she said, bottom lip trembling, voice muffled by his skin. "I—I always want to be with you. I want to make you happy. I want to make you stop hurting."
He didn't respond immediately. "You can't love me."
(why didn't he believe her?)
"Why not?"
"I'm not"—he uncharacteristically stumbled over his words—"I'm not worth your love."
"It's not up to us to choose who we love."
Pause. "You quoted that from some romance novel you read, didn't you?"
She blushed, but he didn't see. "Yes. But—but that doesn't change the fact that I love you." When she read the books, the characters felt embarrassment when they confessed their feelings—but she didn't feel any of that. She felt warm, she felt complete—almost.
"Shut up, Sakura." She pulled away a little so she could look up at him earnestly.
"Do you love me too?" She caught the way his eyes narrowed by a fraction.
"You don't just ask people that," he said brashly, the scowl obvious on his lips. She shrunk away.
"Sorry."
"But I do."
"You…do?"
"I'm not going to repeat myself."
And suddenly, she was smiling—beaming, in fact. She couldn't remember smiling so widely, so freely—she felt lighter than air—she felt like she could fly. The dark eyes that she'd come so used to look at seemed to soften just the smallest bit. Her breath caught when his hands came to her face.
For a few moments, his thumb was just stroking her cheek. She leaned into his touch—it was comforting. A warm feeling bubbled up in her chest when he kissed her forehead softly, and then her nose—but it was incomparable to how she felt when he kissed her mouth. She melted into him, eyes shutting tight blissfully.
(he kind of tasted like late nights and truck rides and ashes.)
This must've been everything the books said—the kiss, the fairytale ending—everything was perfect now—
Her cheeks were flushed when he pulled away. "When will you take the patients out in your truck again? You haven't done that since the mansion burnt down."
"I haven't done it since you—" He stopped mid-sentence, staring at her. She blinked. "I haven't done it since Itachi took you back." (since she lost her memories.) Her heartbeat quickened as she realized—
"It was too dangerous," she said. "So you ordered me to kill the patients instead."
It wasn't like in the books, where everything came back in a tidal wave—it ebbed back—blurry at first, but slowly remembering more and more. She wasn't sure what triggered the return of her memories, but she was almost ecstatic—she remembered, she remembered—
Sasuke must be so happy too.
"I remember, Sasuke." Her eyes were wide. "I remember."
His eyes were the softest she'd ever seen them, and if she looked carefully, his lips might've turned upwards by a fraction. "So you do." And although he wasn't glowing the way she was, she could tell, he looked whole.
When he kissed her again, she was so happy, she could die.
you're fading
so quickly…
She didn't count the days anymore. She didn't feel the need to. She was perfectly content with where she was and what she had right now.
The happy days were short-lived.
Her dreams didn't come as often anymore. The dreams where she could escape to—they came less and less, but she hardly noticed. It didn't come as a large loss when reality was better.
But there were nightmares, now.
There were people—some unrecognizable, some familiar—reaching out with grimy hands, fingers dragging along her skin. She'd scramble backwards, tripping over her own feet and falling to the ground with a thump. They seemed to multiply, and then merged together into an unidentifiable monster—towering over her, chanting, "You killed me, you killed me!"
It took her four times of experiencing the nightmare to realize that those people were all of the experiments she had terminated.
She didn't tell Sasuke. He was too content right now to be told some bad news again. All he'd ever experienced was bad news. She didn't want that for him.
So she went to see Zetsu herself.
As far as she knew, Zetsu was Pein's personal advisor. He had the most direct influence on him that she was aware of. She was a little fidgety, and her hands had gone clammy, but she gathered up her courage and knocked on the door of his office.
"Sakura. This is a surprise."
"Hi," she said timidly, closing the door behind her as quietly as she can.
"What brings you here today?"
"I, um…I've been wondering." The way he was staring her down with those beady yellow eyes was intimidating. "Our method of removing the pa—experiments. Is there another way, perhaps? Instead of killing them, can't we just move them to a faraway place?" She wrung her hands behind her back, hoping she sounded convincing. It was impossible to read his face. Even now, her legs were just itching to take her back the path she came. This was a bad idea.
Zetsu inspected her carefully. "And why are you asking this?"
(she didn't want them to die. she felt bad for them. she was just scared.)
"How do you dispose of the bodies?" she asked, instead of answering his question—a very bold and foolish move on her part. "Surely it's the slightest bit suspicious, right?"
"Sasori takes care of them accordingly. He has a—ah, a hobby, I suppose." He scratched his head. "I'm sure it's more of an obsession or fetish, but nonetheless. There's nothing to worry about."
She bit her bottom lip. The only thing keeping her there now was the thought of returning to a bed she was frightened of. "But the experiments could—" She stopped, midsentence. The experiments could what? Escape? Be taken away in that truck and then the boat, to a place beyond that could be even more dangerous than here? Be happy?
With a little disappointment, she realized that her expectations were slowly rising. The world wasn't fair. Of course it wasn't. Not all people were equals.
Not everyone could live happily and go shopping in supermarkets.
Zetsu was quiet for a long moment. "The experiments could?" he prompted her.
She swallowed. "Um. Nothing. Never mind. I—I'm sorry for bothering you." Bowing a little, she turned and fumbled for the doorknob, before escaping the room as fast as she could. She couldn't breathe in there.
The corridors were quiet.
"These dreams—they mean something, right? I mean, we can somehow pull the things we do in them into our real lives…"
"I'm not sure, but it certainly gives us an upper hand if you can heal injuries by the second, and I can blow fireballs." She blinked at the smirk on Sasuke's lips, and couldn't help but smile a little too.
Because if anything, their dreams meant that they belonged together.
She began making a bucket list. It wasn't very long, though.
1. Spend an entire day outside.
The next week, Sasuke wasn't in charge of grocery shopping. That came as a disappointment. Disappointment was a feeling she was getting well acquainted with, but she wasn't sure if that would be considered a good thing.
Since that day, Sasuke had shown no obvious signs of affection. She had only tasted his lips that once—and even the memory of that was quickly slipping away. Memory was a very weak thing, she had learned. But she didn't mind—because as the days passed, she noticed that he slept easier. When she rolled over in bed, she didn't wake him. That must've meant something.
2. Visit a hospital.
"Sakura." She turned around, blinking in surprise.
"S-Sasori-sama," she said quietly, bowing her head. The scalpel that she was just cleaning was clenched tightly in her hand.
"I don't believe we've ever spoken before." The red-haired man stepped into the clinic, fingers running along her desk. A shiver involuntary ran down her spine. "How are you?"
(he reminded her of blood.)
"I'm good." She swallowed. Then, remembering her manners, she added, "How are you?"
"Quite well." He inspected her equipment. Just some needles for stitches, scalpels, needles for lethal injection—her supplies were still scarce, but it was already much better than before. "It seems that, though—ah, how do I say this—lately, everything that I've found in the trash has been just that: trash." She nodded slowly, not understanding what he was getting at. "You may or may not have known, but I make life-sized dolls for a hobby. Do you know how I do that?"
She shook her head, breathing in deeply. "How?" Her voice came out hoarse. She suddenly felt very cold.
"Surely, you've noticed how there are two dumpsters in the back?" She nodded. "One is for the trash. The other is for corpses." Again, she nodded. "Every day, I visit the one for corpses and see if there is anything new. But lately, Sakura"—he blinked, long lashes almost looking sultry—"I have been finding nothing but trash."
"I"—she swallowed thickly—"I'm sorry if I accidentally placed the bodies in the wrong dumpster—"
"That's not quite what I mean." Sasori picked up a scalpel, turning it so it glinted in the light. "All of the experiments lately have been so…ugly."
She gripped her scalpel tighter, holding it to her chest.
(he was going to hurt her. they've never spoken before, and he was going to hurt her.)
She stumbled backwards when he took a step closer to her. He had placed the scalpel in his hand back on the desk, perfectly parallel to her other tools. "Sakura, you have a…very pretty face."
"T-Thank you."
"Would you like to be part of my collection?"
Her mind whirred—didn't that mean that he wanted to make her into a doll? And didn't that mean—didn't that mean that he wanted to kill her?
"Um, I'm sorry—no thank you—" She took several more steps backwards, bumping into an examination table. Sasori's eyes glinted dangerously as he closed in on her. Why was he doing this? She'd never even done anything to him.
"Why not?" His fingers were deathly cold as he held her chin. "You would be my most prized possession. I have a special spot made, just for you."
"T-There are still more experiments to be taken care of—" She was finding it difficult to breathe. Her eyes went wide. Where was Sasuke? Sasuke had always come to save her before—where was he now? "Sa—Sasuke—"
"Sasuke is out, running errands." He played with a lock of her hair. "He won't be here to save you."
It felt as though a bucket of ice cold-water was dumped onto her head. It was only then that the fear really sunk in—she was helpless really, just helpless and vulnerable and weak and—
"Come with me," Sasori said, taking hold of her arm. "I promise it won't hurt."
Then she let out a bloodcurdling scream.
She couldn't remember ever making such a loud noise in her life—but that was the only thing that she could do. She didn't know who would save her, or if anyone would—after all, Sasuke was the only one she could depend on.
"No one's going to save you, Sakura." His voice felt like a noose around her neck, tying tighter and tighter and she just couldn't breathe—
Her scalpel went to the easiest place to access, and lodged right into his collarbone. Sasori let out a long hiss, similar to that of a poisonous snake, and immediately, his hands came to wrap around her neck as that makeshift noose that she felt just moments ago. She choked, grabbing the scalpel from his neck and pulling it out, desperate to get another mark on him. It felt like her trachea was being crushed.
"I was hoping you'd be a good girl and comply," he said, a crazed look on his face. "It would be such a shame to mar you when you could make such a beautiful doll." She struggled to breathe, although she didn't know why she tried—it wouldn't work anyway.
(this couldn't be the end of her. this couldn't.)
"Wh—why…"
"The question is," he loomed closer, "why not?"
She tried to speak again, but she was beginning to feel lightheaded—it was so similar to that time that patient strangled her and dislocated her shoulder—but this time, ten times worse, because Sasori wasn't crazy. Sasori was completely lucid, and he wanted this. She tried to stab him with her scalpel again, but he predicted her move and grabbed hold of her wrist before she could do anything. A little bit of the pressure was lifted from her throat, but his hands were big, and one of them could still easily kill her.
He began to drag her across the room towards the door by the neck. She could only stumble along, choking and gasping the entire way. Why was he doing this? She had followed orders, done as she was told—never once did she go against Akatsuki. So why—?
"Oh," a familiar gruff voice said. Sasori stopped abruptly in the hallway, and she struggled to free herself of his grip. "Found a new toy?"
"Do you have business with me, Kisame?"
"Actually, I do." She wasn't sure whether or not to be glad to see Kisame. With the way he was grinning, he surely wasn't going to help her. And why would he? He only cared about Sasuke, after all. "Pein wants to talk to you. He says the stench coming from your room is getting too unbearable."
(in the end, she really had no one.)
"My room is already the farthest from everyone else's," Sasori said distastefully.
"Yeah, well, odors tend to go far when they're that of rotting corpses." Kisame wrinkled his nose.
"They're not rotting corpses. They're works of art." His hand was beginning to loosen on her neck, and she was able to breathe more evenly now—but she didn't dare suck in gulps of air like she wanted to, in case he noticed. Her heart was pounding in her chest, and she stared at Kisame, wide-eyed—please save me, please—
"Well, you don't want to keep him waiting, do you?" Kisame glanced at her. "Unless Sakura is more important? I can tell him you'll be a while, if you like—"
"No," the red-haired man interrupted. "I will see him now." He released her from his grip, and she stumbled back against the wall, clutching her neck and coughing. She saw Sasori approach her, but didn't dare look up—out of everyone in Akatsuki right now, his might be the most maniacal. "I'll fetch you later. I'll give that bruise on your neck time to form first—they'll make such a pretty decoration on your skin." And he swept off.
As the footsteps faded away, all she could do was hold a hand to her trembling mouth. She was crying, and she didn't even notice.
(for all she knew, she could've been dead by now.)
"You okay?" Kisame peered at her.
She stared at him with wide eyes. "He—he wanted to make me into a doll," she choked out. "He wanted to make me a part of his collection."
"Yeah. I know." The way he spoke sent chills up her spine, because for once, he wasn't grinning, and that mischievous glint in his eyes was gone. "You have to get out of here. It's not safe for you anymore."
"What? Why? What did I do?"
(what did she do?)
"I'll explain later. If you don't get going now, you won't get far enough and they'll catch you and kill you for real."
"I—but Sasuke—"
"I already contacted him. Now c'mon, follow me—unless you like the idea of being with Sasori for as long as he lives?" She shook her head wildly. "Right. So come."
She had made a bucket list. Things she wanted to do—not just for Sasuke, but for herself as well. Every day, little by little, she found that she was becoming more and more alive. She didn't know if this was a good thing or bad thing—it seemed to have its ups and downs. When she was just an experiment, just Doctor, there were no ups and downs—there was stability.
3. Keep Sasuke happy.
She quickly climbed into the backseat of Kisame's car, and they sped away. She didn't even get to admire how bright the sun was shining or how lively the streets were—somehow, it didn't feel right that the world could keep turning when all of this was happening to her. But that was how it worked, wasn't it? No one stopped for others.
"Where's Sasuke?" she asked Kisame after a long while of silence.
"We're meeting him somewhere safe." He sounded grim. She had to turn away from the window so the sun wouldn't blare in her eyes.
"Won't you get in trouble for this?"
"I don't think it's me that you should be worried about right now."
But she couldn't help but worry. It was a new thing—she'd never felt concern for anyone except for Sasuke. But then again, she'd never had much of a chance to. She'd never gotten close to anyone else except for Naruto, but Naruto—well, Naruto was…
She quickly erased the thought from her mind.
"Why are you doing all of this?" Her voice came out quiet, and she stared at her hands in her lap. There was that lump in her throat—she was going to cry again.
4. Take a picture with Sasuke.
"Good question." Kisame was beginning to regain a little bit of his jovial nature again—that calmed her down a bit. "I suppose…because it's interesting?"
She had nothing to say to that, so she remained quiet.
The car ride was long.
(thump. thump. thump.)
"Sasuke-kun! Did you hear? Kankurou's finally going to be a father!"
It seems I can never get this bitter taste out of my mouth.
"Hn."
(smile.)
"Aren't you happy for him? I mean, after the miscarriage last spring…"
"I'll be happy once we have a child of our own."
As of late, you've had this sort of look in your eyes—
But now, I realize it's hope.
In your own way, you still look forward, don't you?
"Well. That'll take time, won't it?"
(breathe. breathe. breathe.)
"It's taking too long."
Laugh. "Patience, Sasuke-kun. Patience."
Hurting you is the last thing I want to do.
(thump. thump. thump.)
"Sasuke!" She nearly tripped over herself as she stumbled out of the car, not even bothering to close the door behind her.
Sasuke's expression was blank, but after spending so much time with him—she could read him. She could see how his eyes flitted from her to Kisame, and back to her. "Sakura."
Without a doubt, she was feeling relief. This emotion had to be relief. They were by the sea—at the dock that she had visited so many times before. The only difference was that it was bright as day right now—but she didn't take the time to absorb their surroundings. All she could see was Sasuke—her anchor, her grip, her home. He already had his arms held out for her—a little uncharacteristic of him, but that was the last thing she thought of. She all but fell against him, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist, shutting her eyes and just breathing. Breathing him in.
"Sa—Sasori wanted to kill me," she whimpered into his neck. "He wanted to make me into a doll."
"Sh," he hushed, placing a hand on her head and slowly working his fingers through the tangles. She must've looked a mess right then. But it was okay—it'd be okay, she was sure—Sasuke was here—and if things weren't okay when Sasuke was here, then what was?
(nothing, that was what.)
"You know what it means if Sasori goes after the live ones." She didn't want Kisame to talk. She just wanted a moment to forget.
Sasuke's voice was hard, but his touch was gentle as his fingers combed through her hair. His other arm was secured around her waist, holding her close. "Why made Pein want to get rid of her?"
"I don't know the details, but yesterday, when I was passing by his office, I heard him talking to Zetsu. Zetsu said something about Sakura wanting to let the experiments go free instead of just killing them." Sasuke's hand froze in her hair. She held her breath.
"Is this true, Sakura?" His voice was nothing close to brash or cold, like she expected. Slowly, she nodded, refusing to look up at him. She felt his chest heave with a sigh. "This complicates things. I'm guessing that they wanted to get rid of her because she was becoming a risk to Akatsuki. Am I correct?"
"Probably. What are you going to do now?"
It was silent for a moment while Sasuke thought. "It was Itachi's goal to destroy Akatsuki. But…" His fingers began moving in her hair again. "That won't be my top priority right now."
"Then what will be?"
"Sakura." The way he said it with absolutely no hesitation made her surprised. Her? She was that important to him? "We'll leave the city. We'll leave the country."
Kisame snorted. "You know they'll find you eventually."
"Eventually. But not now."
"You really don't plan things, do you?"
"Why would I, when things aren't going to go my way anyway?"
The way Kisame laughed made her feel a little empty. "You and Itachi have completely different ways of going about things."
"So I've been told. We'll go to Hokkaido. I have some connections—we'll make some fake passports and then move to America. They shouldn't be able to find us there."
"That's what you think."
"If they do, we'll go somewhere else."
"Is that"—she finally pulled away from him so she could look up at him earnestly—"will that be safe? Will—will we be alright like that? I—I'm sorry—this is all my fault, isn't it? If I didn't go to Zetsu that day—if I didn't ask—" She pressed her palms against her mouth to muffle suddenly very staggered breathing.
"It's fine." Sasuke pressed his lips against her forehead in a brief kiss. "It'll be fine. I'll also get a fake birth certificate for you—no one will know you're illegal. We can live a normal life. Sakura, you can—you can be a certified doctor. Go to med school. Work in a hospital."
She stared at him in disbelief. "A hospital?"
"A hospital."
(that was her dream.)
Never had she thought that she could live a normal life. She had long since abandoned hope for that; she was so far gone and too deep in the pits of hell to turn back. But Sasuke—why was everything possible with Sasuke? It was like he could work miracles.
(but why not? he could blow fireballs, he could walk on water—why couldn't he do this?)
Kisame coughed loudly. "You can take my car," he told them. "I'll give you all the money I have on me right now. Don't use Akatsuki's credit card anymore—they'll track you."
"What'll happen to you?" she asked, wide-eyed.
He grinned, sharp teeth glinting in the sunlight. "I'm touched that you care, sweetheart. I'll be fine—I'll say that you mugged me, and headed south."
Without a moment's hesitation, Sasuke caught the car keys that Kisame tossed at him. "I'll keep in touch with you," he said, already switching to his business mode. "Sakura, get in the car."
This time, she climbed into the passenger seat. While she waited for Sasuke and Kisame to finish discussing some last minute things, she played with her fingers, palms cold and clammy. Was it wrong to be excited? They were officially on the run, with Akatsuki at their tails—they could be caught and killed at any moment. Was it wrong to be anticipating the next day, and the day after that, and the day after that? She could be free. She could be legal. She could—she could live.
Sasuke opened the car door abruptly, and once he got into his seat, closed it just as hard. Keys turned and the engine roared to life—and she looked out the window at Kisame, who was standing there, looking large and awkward but anything but fearsome.
(maybe they were few and far between, but there really were kind people out there, somewhere.)
After a moment's contemplation, Sasuke rolled down the window. "Kisame," he called out. The larger man looked at him.
"What are you waiting for? Every second is a second wasted."
Although she couldn't see it, she could hear how solemn Sasuke's expression was. "Thank you."
notes: will you please tell me if there is a huge number of typos in this? :D
i feel like i've failed you guys somehow…i haven't posted any naruto fanfiction for over a month. i've been dedicated to this fandom for well over two years, and it finally feels like it's slipping away. i see others like this all the time, not updating for months, leaving their readers hanging. i don't want that happening to me, but it is. nothing's coming out anymore. other fandoms are calling to me, and those fandoms have no place on ffn.
now that i've officially killed the mood…i'll post the last chapter on christmas! it'll be my gift to you guys, because i'm not sure if i could prepare a oneshot for then. :)