The Narutos. I don't own them.
Also? This might stretch to 24 installments instead of 20, because I have a thing for symmetry and the next chapter is pretty much the midpoint. Just a heads up. :)
Kunoichi
XI. Rubicon
He brings her back to his place for three reasons.
1) He can get there quickly.
2) It is common knowledge in ANBU that she lives out of containment scrolls. Her apartment is Spartan, and neat, but essentially there is a bed and not much else.
3) He is sure everything she needs is either in the scroll she always carries with her or can be found (or a reasonable substitute can be found) in his own home.
He carries her the whole way, and lowers her onto his couch before disappearing into the kitchen.
When he returns, she is awake and staring up at his ceiling.
He helps her sit up.
If she is drunk, she isn't an aggressive or talkative drunk.
She is silent.
He offers her a specific soldier pill and some water.
She takes the water and ignores the soldier pill.
"It won't do anything," she says calmly.
"Humor me," he says with his crinkle-eyed smile.
She mutely takes the pill and finishes the water.
"I'm going home," she says standing. "Thank you for letting me wait out the blackout."
"Going to weather this at home alone?" he asks casually.
"It won't be the first time," she assures him. "I know what to do."
He almost relents.
Something raises the hairs on the back of his neck – a whisper – a warning.
He catches the tiniest of movements in her jaw – a crack in the façade, and with a sudden and frightening clarity, he knows.
The demons are back.
Ice slides down his neck, and he is suddenly and viscerally, and grimly certain that if he sends her away to battle alone, she will not keep the darkness at bay.
He does not question why he knows - his years of experience have taught him to trust his instincts.
And his instincts tell him that this is not a battle she can win.
If she is left alone, she will be dead by morning.
That is unacceptable.
"You have two choices," he says in a calm voice with an undertone of authority that is unmistakable iron.
She looks over to him and arches an eyebrow. The pain is starting to slide under her skin, and her already limited options will be nonexistent if she doesn't get home.
"And going through this alone isn't one of them."
Her jaw tightens.
"I am not on assignment, Hokage-sama," she says tightly. "My time is my own."
"True," he says. "But in this instance, Sakura outranks you. By not staying in the hospital, you deliberately disobeyed the orders of a superior officer. You could return to the hospital for the next twenty-four hours per your orders, and that charge will be dropped."
He is several feet away from her, but can feel her whole body tense as she wills herself to remain calm.
"And my other choice?"
"You can weather this with an assigned mission partner. As you know, we are spread a little thin, but I can get you to Gai, Lee, Hinata or Kurenai."
She grimaces, something in her being twisting even as the needles of pain begin to press more insistently along her skin.
"We never abandon our comrades Captain," he says his voice low. "And that includes me. You can stay here, or you can be released to the care of the hospital or another shinobi. Think of it as an excercise in teamwork."
When she says nothing, he continues.
"I didn't recognize the warnings last time," he says looking her over, "but I know the face of one getting ready to battle demons. This time," he says, his face grim, "I will not leave you to face them alone."
She looks over at him, and she knows that soon, she will not be able to be moved.
She has gone through this before; she knows she might not have control of what she says or what she does. She won't have them see her like that. It is too raw a pain to share. She can face her own monsters; she can't face them worrying about her – she can't face the concern that will no doubt stain and strain those bonds.
And she hates hospitals.
They will sedate her. With her physical self immobilized, that leaves her to fight alone and trapped in the terrain of her own mind; the one battlefield where she is never equipped enough; where she can never find the right weaponry.
That is her worst kind of hell.
"This stays between us?" she asks quietly.
He nods.
"The drug," she says, her eyes beginning to tighten, "I am not always coherent when it is in full effect. I… I don't know what I will say, or…"
"Understood," he cuts her off. "I have done a few covert missions in my day, Captain. Besides a gentleman always forgets."
"Since when do you qualify," she half laughs.
"Well then look at it this way," he says lightly. "This spares you from having to turn in a report to the Hokage."
"There is that," she smirks. She looks him up and down and gives a perfunctory nod.
"Then we have to prepare, Hokage-sama. There isn't much time."
The next several moments are spent getting supplies from her scrolls, antidotes, remedies, teas, clothes – anything she needs but might not be able to unseal once this gets into full swing.
She is prepared to do battle.
Over the next five hours her body is wracked with shooting pain and chills – a side effect of the antidote on a weakened system and exacerbated by what probably would have been alcohol poisoning if he hadn't gotten that soldier pill into her. Her teeth chatter, and she breathes meditatively through the pain, keeping her vocalizations to a minimum. Occasionally she lapses into the same trance-like state he found her in, and he realizes she is doing this to weather the worst of the pain.
She can't seem to keep warm.
When even the blazing fire and several blankets cannot warm her, he runs a hot bath.
He is eternally grateful that she used the last shreds of her consciousness to dress in comfortable layers and left extra clothing out.
He gets her down to a tank top and the fitted shorts she thankfully had under her loose cotton pants before lifting her into the steaming water.
The shivers eventually stop, but they give way to another kind of shuddering, and the tears fall silently and in rapid succession.
Still, she will not speak. She will not put words to her pain or her emptiness.
Somewhere in the back of her mind, she hears the occasional gasping of an escaped sob as it wracks her body, and wonders where it is coming from. She is quite certain all of hers were released many years ago.
She can taste the metallic hint of blood from where she bit her own lip trying to keep the memories at bay.
She vaguely registers the strong arm against her back as she vomits bile, having eaten nothing but soldier pills for several days. Distantly, she notes the surprisingly gentle fingers holding back her hair. She is given water to rinse her mouth out. She is being helped back into the now-empty tub and she sits numbly while strong fingers wash the tangle of her hair and rinse it with the hand-held showerhead.
Over the next half hour, her lucidity and control return, but her limbs are slow to follow suit.
She needs his help to get out of the tub and towel off.
He helps her shrug into a warm, thick robe she had unsealed – a gift from Sakura that she has never used but has kept with her for reasons she has never been able to articulate. She fishes the shorts out from under the robe and wrings them into the tub before leaving them to dry
He wrings her hair into a towel and is methodically combing through it in stages from the bottom up when he tells her the worst should be over.
She dumbly nods, eyes slowly regaining focus. Her hands are clumsy as she winds her damp hair into a single, loosely coiled bun. She clamps it into place using the odd claw clip Ino had given her – another item never used but dutifully stored, as she had not seen any practical application for the device.
He leaves her to brush her teeth and wash her face, but returns to help her to the couch.
Her limbs are weary and heavy as she curls into her corner and stares into the fire. The blanket dropped over her is soft and worn, and was a gift from Lee purchased on a joint mission many years ago. This she has used often.
She is waiting to have enough energy to exchange her now-dry clothes for her utilitarian sleepwear.
He presses a steaming mug of tea into her hands.
She watches as he pulls the small table over to her and places a plate of food on it.
She inhales the aromatic comfort of the tea, recognizing it as a blend she favors.
Everything toxic is out of her system now – now she just has to recover.
They sit in silence, the crackling of the fire the only sound in the room
"Eat something," he urges.
She glances up at him and he returns her gaze.
"Do I have to phrase that as an order from the Hokage?"
A ghost of a smirk passes across her lips.
"No, Hokage-sama."
It is the only thing she has said in nearly six hours.
He watches her nibble at the toast and pick at the fruit. Mostly she sits back and drinks the tea.
She tucks her legs under her and stares into her mug.
"As of today," he says, taking his seat in a chair across from her, "you are on medical leave."
Her eyebrow quirks but she does not otherwise react.
"Until?"
"Until you can explain to your Hokage why you seem so intent on killing one of his elite ANBU Captains."
Silence.
She can feel his eyes on her.
"I have all night," he says conversationally.
She shifts her gaze to the fire.
"I have a mission tomorrow."
He shrugs.
"Sai can go."
It is a low blow, and they both know it.
Of course Sai is perfectly capable of going; it had been his assignment to begin with.
She arrived on the assignment deck this morning, report in hand. Sai had been there, his placid demeanor replaced with carefully contained grief.
Ino had just miscarried and was scheduled for a D&C tomorrow.
He knew there were no replacements available, but he asked if the mission could be delayed by just one day to allow him to be with his wife.
She immediately informed, not asked, Kakashi that she would go in his place, and could be ready to leave the next morning.
He asked if the medics had cleared her yet. She told him she would be cleared by the next morning.
He agreed, she was assigned, Sai was put on leave effective immediately, and was to return only when Tsunade or Sakura felt it was safe for Ino to be without him.
She sizes him up critically.
"The mission can be offset by one day," he allows. "But I will send him, Captain."
He holds her gaze steadily, and with all of the authority and conviction of not only his position but of his status as the legendary shinobi and hardened war hero, Kakashi the Copy Ninja.
When he speaks it is in absolutes.
"I will not tolerate a threat to one of our shinobi – any of our shinobi - in the field or in the village."
Silence and the flexing of fingers and the smothered sigh of frustration.
"I am not sure what you expect me to say," she finally says.
"Then," he leans back in his chair and taps the space over his heart. "Start here."
He might not have the Sharingan anymore, but nothing escapes Kakashi's eyes.
She smirks and drops her gaze, recognizing her defeat.
"Alright Kakashi," she says quietly.
She slides the robe to the side, the verdant arms of the tattoo just visible above the neckline of her tanktop.
She tugs the neckline down, revealing what he already knew to be there.
"It is as good of a place to start as any."
Next Chapter: Kunoichi