A/N: Hey guys! In the spirit of spring (or err, summer), I did a bunch of clean-up and rewrote/edited some of the past chapters - particularly the earlier ones. Now that a lot of that novice-writer cringe is gone, I feel like this story flows better as a whole (especially since so many people have been re-reading). AND, AND, AND, I've changed a detail about Sakura's chakra-storing diamond. So, initially I wrote the diamond as being on her wrist but because of recent events in the manga, I've decided to rewrite those parts to have the diamond on her forehead now to better flow with canon. It's still only visible when activated though, and that echo seal Kisame placed on Sakura's wrist was still placed there regardless.

Anyway, enjoy this installment.


In my
Nothing
You meant everything
Everything to me

- Nine Inch Nails


"And here we are, Haruno-san. It's no penthouse suite, but the view is something else."

Sakura walked into the apartment following after the escort as he switched on the lights. The dusty smell of vacancy hit her immediately, and she glanced around at the empty grayness of the room wondering when the last person had inhabited the space.

"You can see the entire city from here - the docks, the water. In the daytime you'll get a better view."

Sakura just nodded at the well-meaning young man as he drew open the curtains, but she wanted nothing more than to be left alone.

"Thank you, I can manage from here," she said, absently searching her mind for his name.

The man scratched the back of his head awkwardly as if he wanted to say something else, but then decided against it as he left the keys in her hands and walked out with a curt goodbye.

Sakura watched the door close then shrugged the heavy backpack from her shoulder onto the ground, and sat on the edge of the couch in the living area.

Her throbbing, tense muscles begged her to lie down and just drift off into unconsciousness, but she remained sitting, her gaze fixated on the door.

The journey had taken her and Kisame three days - a short amount of time considering the distance between Ame and Konoha. But Sakura had insisted on taking barely any breaks, and her entire body was now sore as a result. She welcomed the pain though, allowing it to distract her from other thoughts which kept trying to creep out from the depths of where she buried them.

'Buried... buried like-'

No. She was not going there.

Instead, Sakura rose and stepped towards the window, finding it strange that no streaky rain dotted the glass. She didn't like the city's notorious weather, but somehow tonight, she wouldn't have minded. She would have liked to hear the muted patter of raindrops hitting the windows, because the hollow silence of the small apartment was unnerving.

As she stared out the window, Sakura recalled the meeting with Konan before she was escorted to the apartment. The woman had welcomed her after hearing about what happened, but for some reason, Sakura couldn't remember what exactly she had said during the briefing. Everything since their departure from Konoha was a bit hazy, and really, she was so, so tired.

Konan really had been gracious in letting her stay in Amegakure for however long necessary, and Sakura felt immensely grateful, but it wasn't home. Home was where her job was, her friends, her books, her life.

'Sasuke's dead body lying in the wet ground.'

Sakura swallowed hard, and calmly padded towards the bathroom, quickly removing her mud-stained clothing before stepping into the shower stall. She stood unflinchingly as the initial burst of cold water hit her from the shower head, thinking of nothing at all. Blank-faced and stiff, the girl watched as the swirling stream of water turned brown as it travelled towards the drain, taking with it the last physical remnants of Konoha down into the gutters of Amegakure.

She gazed into the water and then closed her eyes as she recalled the crashing of a wave against her, the surge of water dragging her down as a black-clad arm gripped her struggling body. The strength she summoned. The blackness, the bubbles, the heavy weight of pressure as she thrust forward with her arm-

Then the muffled sequence of knocks on a gray door.

"Kunoichi?"

Sakura blinked her eyes open, but remained standing, the steady stream of water on her shoulders numbing her nerve endings in a strangely comforting manner.

There were footsteps outside the door now. Footsteps whose weight and pace she knew and remembered. Predictable and constant.

"Sakura."

The comfortable timbre of a voice that made her feel less like a stranger in a strange land. She hugged herself, but said nothing.

Kisame leaned his back against the bathroom door, arms crossed as he listened to the uninterrupted sound of the shower coming from behind him. He knew the comforts of water all too well.

"I know you're tired, but I think you should at least eat something. You had nothing but those soldier pills the last three days."

She still said nothing, just enjoying the way his voice sounded.

"Well, I'll just leave this food here then."

Kisame set the bag down on the small coffee table and walked back up to the door after a slight pause.

"If you wanna be alone, fine, but I'm not leaving 'til I know you're alive in there."

Her lip twitched in a brief smile, and she turned off the shower.

Quickly wrapping a white bathrobe around herself, Sakura opened the door.

He looked at the girl's meek form, noting where the mud was before now revealed skin with purple and green bruises going from her feet to her knees then upwards to her knuckles - still raw and pink from the fight days before. There were bags under her eyes, and her wet hair stuck to her face, but she brushed it behind her ears, giving him a faint smile.

"You didn't have to," she said, walking over to the couch as Kisame took note of the way she winced with each step across the carpet. Three days of ceaseless travel tended to do that, he thought as he watched her sit down and grab the take-out container.

"There's none for you?" she asked.

"I already ate," he said and sat down next to her.

She wasn't hungry, but ate anyway, despite the nauseating way her stomach threatened to expel anything she swallowed. Even so, Sakura's medic side screamed at her to still her nerves and go through with it. After all, there was something about refusing food that warranted questions of concern, and that was the last thing she wanted right now. So she took a bite of rice, ignoring the protest from her gut in hopes of reassuring the man seated next to her that she was fine.

And she was really.

"Kisame," she said softly, over-chewing the rice in case her throat refused to swallow it down.

"Hm?" he asked, his arms behind his head as he gave her a sidelong glance.

She paused for a second, apparently making up her mind before muttering a small thank you. Kisame frowned.

So, the giant pink elephant would go unaddressed then. Fine, he could deal with that, but clearly, the girl couldn't. He remembered Sasuke's shallow breathing as he turned him over, the way he just felt a strange, hollow, disappointment instead of the satisfaction he so expected - craved. Maybe it was because Madara had used the kid as some sort of human shield and got away from them again, but then another small voice in the back of his mind told him it was something else altogether.

He scowled at himself, angry that he hadn't acted quicker - hadn't been there before Sakura had to resort to killing Sasuke herself. Inwardly, he realized he was being completely irrational and that such things were unpredictable amidst fighting two opponents of the Uchiha's calibre, but still, still he wished he had landed the killing blow instead of her - instead of someone whose light-hearted nature he had grown so fond of.

He looked over at Sakura's blank face. It was as if there was a physical weight bearing itself down on her shoulders, causing her to slump down despite her efforts to appear unaffected. She had been suppressing her emotions since they left Konoha, and he wondered when the tightly bound coil was going to snap. He hated seeing her like this, so unnaturally calm, yet obviously anything but. For someone who constantly reacted to things so openly, all he wanted was for her to show some genuine feeling. Sure, he hated girlish emotions and crying, but for some reason, he decided he'd prefer that to this horrible nothingness. It brought back thick, gray memories of an orphan past which he certainly didn't care to entertain any more.

Kisame quickly swept the past to the side, deciding he'd be there when she was ready to drop the facade. Right now though, all he wanted to do was get away from the uncomfortable tension of the unspoken words.

"Well, I'm going to bed. I'll be going to see Konan again in the morning to brief her on some things. If you're able to-"

"I am able," Sakura interjected hastily.

He refrained from sighing in exasperation at her, then turned, walking towards the door.

"I'll come with you," she added almost desperately.

He paused.

"Fine. I'll come by at nine sharp. Get some sleep."

Kisame left without looking back, not wanting to see that foreigner's face marring the spot where Sakura's used to be. He could only hope that he would see it again.

.-.-.

That night Sakura couldn't sleep. It wasn't really unexpected, but she was hoping for some respite nonetheless. She had assumed that the stark quiet of this strange new apartment would help numb her mind into slumber, but it only aided in allowing her thoughts to voice themselves even louder. And now, more than ever, she'd wished Kisame was there with her to help fill the unfamiliarity with something known.

But of course, he'd left because she repelled him.

'I'm okay, though. And I don't need Kisame; I don't need anyone. It happened just like how it was supposed to. I'm just going through the standard phases of grieving,' she said to herself in the most objective way possible.

She turned in the bed, staring up at the black ceiling, realizing she had fisted her hands in the sheets before hastily placing them on her chest.

'Just gotta ride it out, and I'll be fine again. I am fine. Really. It's just my psyche doing its thing. I'm a logical, rational person. And like any logical, rational person - shinobi - I did what I had to. I saved many people in the process,' she repeated in her mind like a mantra.

'I don't feel guilty. I did what I had to. It was my duty.'

Sakura turned to the side with a heavy sigh, gazing out the window into the supposedly beautiful cityscape outside.

'If I didn't do it, Kakashi would have gone after him. And what if he died? Then someone else would go after Sasuke and more people would die. See? You did the right thing.'

Sakura's eyes felt heavy, her mind going on like a broken record, justifying this, hypothesizing that. She turned to the ceiling again, her thoughts unrelenting and when her eyes found a moment to close, they only shot back open, fixated on the stark nothingness of the concrete again.

Sometime deep within her continuous rationalizing, there was a knock at the door, and Sakura squinted her scratchy eyes, vaguely wondering why she didn't notice how bright the room was. Did she forget to turn off the lights?

'No...'

The knock came again, and Sakura's eyes widened, her arm shielding the sensitive orbs from the beaming sunlight from the window. She stumbled hastily out of bed, uttering a hushed curse as it dawned on her that she was up all night, and Kisame's words echoed in her mind - I'll come by at nine sharp. Utterly exhausted, Sakura threw a shirt and shorts on as quick as possible, ignoring her sore legs and dry eyes. She tied her hair up haphazardly as another bout of knocking spurred her even further into action.

"C-coming!" she called out, her voice cracking from disuse.

'Shit, shit, shit, Sakura. You idiot!' she berated herself as she fished some mouthwash out of her backpack and gulped back a fair amount, swishing vigorously.

She could almost see Kisame's frustration from behind the entrance, and she hurried out of the room and lunged at the doorknob, swinging it open.

Kisame was about to greet her, but then stopped as his eyes settled over Sakura's puffy complexion.

"Good morning," she managed after a second, clearing her throat and offering an apologetic smile.

Kisame gave the girl a dubious once-over, but decided not to comment.

But then again...

"You sure you wanna come? Looks like you could use the extra sleep."

Sakura ignored him, and shut the door behind her a little more loudly than she intended.

'Point taken,' he thought dimly, heading towards the headquarters.

They didn't speak as they made quick work of navigating the tightly intertwined pathways, finally arriving at the tallest building in the city.

Upon reaching the top floor, they were quickly ushered into Konan's office and Sakura almost hurled herself at the chair when the woman motioned for them to sit.

Kisame set his sword down and managed a brief glance at Sakura's slouched form, clearly trying to steady her breathing lest she give away her exhaustion. He watched the way her toes periodically flexed in her sandals, bruised and likely sore. Konan's voice broke through his observation, bringing him back.

"Sakura, I didn't expect you so soon," she said, also clearly noticing the younger girl's state, but declining to comment on it. Instead, she picked up a scroll from the table, and Sakura gulped at the familiar ribbon tied around it.

"But now that you're here, I might as well give you this," she said, holding it out, "It came in earlier this morning."

Sakura swallowed her nervous trepidation and took the rolled up document, dreading the contents within.

Konan paused for a moment, glancing at Kisame before speaking again.

"You can read it later. Right now I wanted to discuss something else."

Sakura looked up, glad for the diversion. The last thing she wanted was to read the document which officially condemned her as a rogue nin.

Instead the woman wasted no time in briefing them on the state of affairs concerning the looming threat of war. The various countries were getting wind of rumors about Madara, and there was a general state of unrest. Amegakure was in dire need of allies, and more importantly a tactic on how to fight the Uchiha and whatever weapons he had at his disposal. Sakura was finding it difficult to concentrate on the conversation, her eyes wanting desperately to close and lull her into sleep. And god, her feet hurt.

Then there was the surprisingly heavy weight of the scroll still nestled on her lap, which added an extra layer of anxiety to her building state of disarray. Would it be Tsunade's handwriting inside? The council members? Danzo? Would they tell her about Sasuke? Would they at least let her know where they buried him? If so, would she ever be able to visit the grave? Just what kind of visitation rights - if any - was she allowed?

"Sakura?"

The girl nearly jumped in her seat, completely taken aback by the sound of her name.

"Yes, Konan-san?"

The woman's face finally showed a flash of pity, and Sakura wanted to sink away into nothingness at the embarrassment.

"Since you could be staying here for a while, I am offering you a position at the medical ward, given your skills. If you would like to, of course. I could also find something else for you to do if-"

Sakura nearly buckled to her knees in relief. Something to do. Something to take her mind off things. Something to occupy the time, make her feel useful, make her feel like herself again.

"I would love that," she said, almost breathlessly.

Kisame noted the slight enthusiasm lacing her tired voice, allowing himself to hope that the girl would return to herself sometime soon.

"Excellent. I'm glad to hear it, I've heard nothing but the best concerning your abilities."

Sakura tried not read too deeply into that, and only nodded with a smile.

Konan rose from her seat, signalling their briefing was adjourned.

Kisame shrugged his sword back on and watched as Sakura graciously bowed to the indigo-haired woman.

"If I may, I would like to begin as soon as you'll allow it, Konan-san."

Konan looked slightly hesitant, but she quickly nodded.

"Of course. I will have someone take you to the medical ward immediately."

An escort came in soon after, taking Sakura with him as Kisame stood with Konan in the doorway, arms crossed as he watched their retreating forms.

"She hasn't slept," he said.

Konan didn't say anything for a moment, observing the man's stony face from the corner of her eye.

"Neither have you," she said, and he shifted a little, noticing her eyes on him.

"Everyone copes in different ways, Kisame. She's going through a lot right now. The best you can do is give her some space until she comes to accept what has happened. It took me a while to accept having a hand in Jiraiya-sensei's death, and I cannot imagine how it must feel to be the one to cause it directly. Sakura is strong, she will overcome this."

Kisame blinked after a while and shrugged.

"And she has you, if anything," she added.

The man looked taken aback, feeling odd at the comment. He decided to ignore it, and change the subject.

"Well, I'm going to go figure out what I can do about this war shit in the meantime. If anything comes up, you know where to find me."

Konan nodded, and watched as Kisame left, a brief flicker of bright orange hair surfacing in her memories before dissipating again, as she tried not to think too deeply of regrets.

.-.-.-.

Despite how utterly exhausted she was from her long day tending to a foreign land's shinobi, Sakura only managed to get an hour of sleep before jerking awake in the middle of the night. Again.

If she hadn't looked around the pale, empty walls of the room she was in, Sakura could have sworn someone's cold hand had squeezed her shoulder. Then again, insomnia did cause hallucinations and general paranoia, so there was also that. A cold sheen of sweat beaded across her skin like a veil, and she gulped the nervous terror down, listening to the fall of rain against concrete and steel.

It had been a few days - however many exactly was a mystery to her - since Sakura's new position at Rain's medical ward. Her sleep patterns since hadn't improved, each night offering her only minutes of shut-eye until she awoke again. She was so damn tired, but the fact was, she didn't want to dream. Not about Konoha, nor Madara, Kabuto, or Sasuke. And she wanted to be at home in her comfortable bed, with her familiar sheets and walls and shelves, not here in this cold and unforgiving city. Not alone in this stale, anonymous box of an apartment.

'I'm so pathetic,' she thought, staring up at the ceiling, 'Scared of dreams, like some child.'

With a weary sigh, she pulled herself up and padded towards the bathroom.

The staff at Amegakure's medical ward were quick to welcome her that afternoon after leaving Konan's office, and it was soon apparent why; there was a huge shortage of medical nin and no end to the beaten and injured shinobi that required their aid. After a brief tour, Sakura was quickly put to work and settled into a comfortable rhythm much like the one she was accustomed to at home. The change of scenery at the hospital had successfully taken her mind off of everything that happened recently, even though her body felt like it would collapse from the ceaseless activity.

Sakura wiped her neck and shoulders with a damp towel, ignoring the snap in her joints as she walked back towards her bed. Hunched over, she sat and looked at the upturned palm in her lap, flexing her bruised fingers inwards.

'I should probably heal this...' she thought absently, her gaze travelling down to her wrists instead.

She placed the towel on the bed, her fingers trailing a circle over the spot on the wrist where Kisame's echo seal had long-since faded, and she closed her eyes.

Yes, Kisame - who she was actively avoiding since their departure from one another days before.

'Was it three days? I think it was a Wednesday... so maybe it was only two.'

Sakura rubbed her eyes with her palms, wanting to turn her stupid brain off already.

She rose, feeling her sensitive stomach roil at the movement, and considered taking yet another cold shower in hopes of getting some much needed sleep. As she got up, her elbow managed to knock over a few paper cups off of the nightstand, and she cursed as the remnants of old coffee seeped out from one of them. Hastily dropping to her knees, the girl grabbed the towel from the bed and began scrubbing the carpeted floor, glad that the cups were nearly empty and not much liquid had spilt.

And perhaps she should make herself a cup because according to the clock, it was only midnight and she needed something to fuel her considering her shift didn't start for another nine hours.

"Except I have the day off tomorrow," she said, her voice unnaturally loud in the quiet room, "and tomorrow is actually today already. I have the day off today."

Sakura stopped her frantic scrubbing, the stain long-gone and her arms shaking like leaves. She forced herself to still, hating how neurotic she had become.

And why was it so damn quiet? Didn't this place have a radio or something?

She threw the towel across the room and sat on the floor, her back against the bed as she wiped her brow with her arm.

"Maybe I'll come into work anyway, god knows they need the help."

Yes. She needed to feel useful - it was the only chance she got to feel sane. Being in this hollow crate of an apartment only made things worse, and gave her mind free reign to think.

And it made her feel incredibly alone.

Sakura sighed and got up. She walked towards the window and stared out at nothing in particular, but all she could see was a black void peppered with odd spots of colored light. The rain hit hard but it was so quiet inside the anonymous walls she was in, it threatened to consume her.

And then, her mind drifted to the scroll which she had tucked away somewhere days before. The scroll which indeed was what she had dreadfully anticipated. For the millionth time since reading it, Sakura recalled the neatly written kanji, branding her the traitor to the village she had so valiantly yearned to protect. And the worst part, was that it was Tsunade who had written it - she could recognize her hand despite how sleep-deprived she was. She tried to envision her steely shishou behind her desk, pen in hand as she wrote. She could almost feel the incredible hurt and betrayal it must have caused, and Sakura swallowed the bile which rose at her own disgust with herself.

And for the millionth time, she had to forcibly remind herself that she was doing all of this because of Naruto, and because of everyone else she cared about. Sacrifice.

And sacrifice she did.

'No.'

But the thought continued to linger, because once again, she recalled that the scroll failed to mention anything about Sasuke. It was as if they purposely omitted the detail. And that was fine, because really, all she wanted to do was forget that any of that had happened and move on, but it possessed her, constantly prodding at the back of her brain and just adding to the weight she felt in her legs as she walked - as she did anything for that matter.

If only she had someone to talk to. Or rather, someone to talk to her, so she could focus on that and nothing else. Someone like...

No, but Kisame knew. He knew because he was there, and that meant that she would have to talk about it eventually.

'Unless...'

Maybe he had forgotten. Maybe it blew over with the days that passed. Maybe he didn't care anymore.

And although the thoughts should have encouraged her, somehow that cumbersome stone just bore down on her further, as she gulped the thick saliva down at the base of her throat.

Instead, Sakura decided not to give it anymore thought, as she donned a raincoat, strapped on her backpack, and with resolve headed for the door.

Walking out into the rainy night, it occurred to Sakura that she was being incredibly selfish. She stood amidst the steel constructions around her, and considered returning back to her loaned home, despite what ghosts lingered there waiting to haunt her. Gazing longingly towards the direction where Kisame's apartment was, she wondered if he'd be mad at her for intruding in on his space. She wondered if he'd turn his back and tell her to go. The clench in her gut stilled her steps, but after a short pause she continued onwards. The leaden weight of loneliness was just too much. She wanted to listen to his crappy jokes, or hear his sardonic laughs. Just be in his presence, if nothing.

She wanted to feel his warm arms around her as she sunk into his chest and drained this horrible weight out into the fabric of his shirt.

No. She was past that. Sakura walked on, her legs carrying her across the steel bridges which connected the city until she reached the building perched high above Amegakure, finding it strange that the height no longer bothered her so much. She just wanted to see his face, even if he slammed the door in hers.

Sakura paused for a moment, then knocked.

It didn't take long before she heard those familiar strides as they reached the door, and her muscles began to shake again - from caffeine, trepidation or the cold rain, she was unsure. Within moments, the harsh fluorescent light from inside bathed her in the darkness, and she struggled to compose herself as she squinted, gazing up at the silhouette of the man before her. God, it felt good to see him again.

"Sakura?" he asked, his voice tinged with a hint of concern.

The rain pelted down hard, half-obscuring the girl's soft-spoken tone.

"Can I stay with you tonight? If it's alright with you."

'Stay?' Well, that was not what she set out to say or do exactly, but now that it was out there, it was too late to take back.

Kisame was taken aback by the request, but stepped aside to let her in.

"Yeah, sure," he said almost breathlessly, watching the girl walk inside as he closed the door behind him.

She purposely refused to meet his gaze, just muttering a small thanks. Kisame absently noted how the scene before him had played out once before - long ago - when she had sought him out during her mission in the rainy city. It was strange to think of how far back that was, so instead he spoke.

"Is everything alright?" he asked finally, watching the girl's stiff shoulders slump a little at his voice. She shrugged off her backpack and then turned towards him.

"Yeah, it's just... sorry," she said, fearful of meeting his gaze.

She looked incredibly tired - even more so than the last time he'd seen her a few days back - and Kisame found himself aching to brush the wet locks from her face so he could see her clearly.

"You apologize too much."

Sakura felt a twist in her gut at the fact that this man wasn't rejecting her. His voice just sounded so damn inviting, she struggled hard to maintain her composure and not break down right then and there. She took in a deep breath and straightened, brushing her bangs to the side and removing her coat.

"Thanks," she said with a small smile as he took the garment from her and hung it.

"I didn't wake you did I?" she asked, feeling slightly more at ease as conversation settled among them.

"No," he said, disappearing behind a wall as he continued, "I was reading."

Sakura noticed the jumbled mess of scrolls laid out on the low table in the living room as a sound of dull clattering came from the direction where Kisame was. She bent down and removed her boots, sucking in air sharply after a blister caught on the tough material, throwing her off balance a little.

As if her feet had been numb all day, they decided to let their state of neglect be known as Sakura felt the aching throb coming from her soles and travelling upwards to the rest of her abused muscles. The injured girl walked towards the couch and sat down, rifling through her bloated backpack for some much needed medication. With a roll of bandages and some ointment in hand, she began to meticulously tend to her bruised and bloody feet, trying incredibly hard not to react to the steadily rising pain.

Kisame was busy unrolling the futon he just procured, laying it out in the living room as he watched the hunched girl from the corner of his eye. He had already taken note of the sharp scent of her coppery blood and felt a strange pull towards her.

"I'll take the futon, you can have my room," he said after a while, trying to brush the unsettling feeling aside .

"No, that's okay, I'll sleep here," she said, looking up from her task.

"You're injured kunoichi-"

"It's just blisters. Please, Kisame. I'd feel better about it."

He stood with arms crossed, watching the girl soothe some balm onto her tender skin.

"Then let me help you with that," he said, walking over.

She felt the couch shift as his weight settled next to her, and her breath hitched in her throat as his hand brushed over hers, taking the rolled bandage from her fingers.

Sakura's muscles were completely still, her breath trapped in her lungs as she felt that tell-tale sharpness in her throat manifest - as if his smallest touch could shatter the armor she'd meticulously built for herself. No, no, no, she repeated, clenching her teeth with a near-audible sound.

'Please, just let me have tonight,' she thought to herself desperately, 'Just tonight, and then I'll be okay again.'

A scroll from the table in front of them slipped and fluttered towards the ground then, the papery sound interrupting the breathless silence and Sakura gulped the weighty thickness back down, feeling utterly relieved. She pulled her hand back towards her person, snatching the bandages back swiftly.

"I'm a medic. I don't need help," she said finally, the bitterness lacing her words mainly aimed at herself for nearly giving in.

Kisame scowled. He wanted to shake her, to get some sort of visceral reaction out of her - hell, he would have even elicited a midnight spar with her out in the rain if she wasn't in such rough shape. But despite Sakura's efforts to be aloof, he felt like there was a crack in the plaster she encased herself in - after all, something made the girl come here tonight. For now, he'd be accommodating.

"Fine, have it your way then. It's late, and I'm heading to bed. If you need anything, just wake me up," he said and padded off to his room.

Sakura heard the door shut behind him, and gazed longingly at the smooth wood, wishing she could peel away from the cocoon she was in and stop with the horrible charade. But it really was selfish, and she had already invaded his space enough as it was. She cared about Kisame enough not to have him deal with her emotions, and that thought alone made the girl take a deep breath and continue on with her healing process.

Despite how much she tried to clear her mind, her brain would not stop relaying images from the fight to her. She screwed her eyes shut, not wanting to think about it anymore and reached into her bag to retrieve a salve when her hand brushed over a small vial of liquid. She pulled it out, the pale yellow contents in the glass vial shaking slightly in her hand.

'The antidote...'

The antidote to the poison she used on Sasuke.

She remembered precisely all the days she spent bent over her desk testing out chemical after chemical to make sure she made the deadliest, yet scentless and tasteless mixture possible. It would have to be fast-acting and efficient, but also have an antidote - just in case. Back then, she never would have thought she'd end up using the deadly poison on a former teammate, but fate had a habit of throwing monkey wrenches into plans where she was concerned. She clenched her jaw as her eyes glossed over, and she quickly rammed the small container back inside a zipped compartment, hoping to never see it again. As she slammed the vial back in her bag, it made a loud clink as it struck another glass object. Sakura's hand wrapped around it, her heart sinking when she pulled out the bottle of cognac. Her brows knitted in anguish, trying incredibly not to cry as she looked at it, wondering how this night could get any worse.

And why exactly she thought coming to sleep in Kisame's apartment was a good idea in the first place, because the solace she so desperately sought in his presence was quickly providing the complete opposite.

Her eyes trailed down towards the object in her hand, thumbing the label as she licked her bottom lip.

Comfort.

Comfort and reprieve. She felt beyond pathetic, looking longingly at a bottle of some probably-potent liquor, the temptation steadily rising.

Sakura's lips twisted in disgust, as she stuffed the bottle back into her bag. Instead, she put on a dry set of pyjamas and grabbed the sheets Kisame had laid out for her on the unrolled futon and hastily prepared for sleep.

And for an hour, or perhaps longer, she lay there surrounded in his scent, her eyes unblinking as the loneliness from earlier settled once more upon her chest like a rock.

'Just one,' her mind repeated again and again.

'If I just have one drink, maybe I can relax. Maybe it'll help.'

Sakura strained her ears, listening to the barely-audible sound of Kisame's snoring, and before she had a chance to rethink her actions, she slipped out of the thin sheets and in a fluid motion, pulled the long bottle out from her backpack.

She walked a few steps behind the wall separating the living area from the kitchen, and soundlessly sat down at the small table. Gulping down her trepidation, Sakura clutched the heavy bottle to her chest then set it down after a moment.

She sat in silence, eyeing the bottle in front of her, a beacon of light in the darkness of the apartment. Her eyes glazed over as she stared at the outside light reflecting on its smooth glass surface, desperate for some solace from her mind.

She was a medic. She knew better. But oh, if it wasn't tempting to give into the liquid numbness alcohol would provide. And she was so tired already, and really, she wouldn't need much...

'Over-exerting yourself won't help you forget,' she recalled in the deep voice of the shark-man who slept in the room nearby. Her sore muscles tensed as they reminded her for the countless time that night that she had pushed herself too far. She was sore, yes, from over-exertion and Kisame was right - she didn't forget.

Her heart clenched in her chest as she felt the pain creep back. It was the minute details that threatened to crush her - the weight of Madara's gloved hand against her forehead, the force of her steel kunai puncturing flesh, the locks of short black hair strewn out in the mud, the thick, angry strokes of ink on parchment sealing her fate. Sakura screwed her eyes shut as she leaned back against the chair again, hoping when she reopened them, the bottle of liquor would be gone along with everything she wanted to drown with it. Her eyes reopened and settled on the gold label on the bottle, noting a fluorescent green shining on it. She passed her eyes across the room, noticing a clock there indicating the time. She really did know better than to get drunk at three in the morning, but the fact was that it hurt.

It hurt really fucking bad.

And it was just one drink.

Her finger traced the round edge of the stopper, and before she could go further, Sakura heard soft footfalls approaching behind her. Panic seized her as she grabbed the neck of the liquor bottle in an attempt to conceal it, but it was too late.

She had stood and fumbled, quickly trying to hide her shame, but before she knew it a hand was on hers, still gripping the bottle.

Her heart felt like it was in her throat now, beating impossibly loud in the heavy silence.

"I was just- I couldn't sleep..." she stammered, her voice cracking as she could feel the gaze of the man behind her, piercing through her very person. She closed her eyes, feeling completely defeated, her muscles throbbing horribly at the movement.

He knew, of course. The minute she appeared at his doorstep he knew there was something very dark threatening to consume her, and it was only a matter of time. And really, he had become so finely tuned to sense her distress, which right now was at an unbearable peak to him, let alone her. He wouldn't allow it to take her like it had taken many a shinobi before.

"Don't do this to yourself," Kisame said, his hand slipping down her own to grasp the bottle and take it from her trembling hold. She couldn't see him, only able to feel the heat emanating from his chest pressed against her back, his arm wound across her front as if anchoring her lest she fall. She screwed her eyes shut, wanting nothing more than to disappear.

A soft thunk interrupted the silence as Kisame set the alcohol back onto the table and moved to stand in front of her. She stared off to the side, humiliated and angry that he witnessed her like this. Always weak, always so damn weak.

Weak like the first time she saw him shackled to the wall, unable to kill him. Weak because he had come to her rescue time and time again since then. Weak because she had let Madara coax her out of her apartment and capture her. Weak because she couldn't come to terms with killing Sasuke - the one right thing she'd done since meeting the man who now looked at her with those intense eyes in the darkness of his apartment.

She wanted to tell him to leave, and lash out and get really fucking angry at his intrusion, but deep down she was immensely relieved that he was here.

"Tell me, kunoichi..." he started in that baritone she so desperately craved.

Sakura shuddered, feeling something break inside her as his words reached her ears.

That stinging pain clogged her throat again and she wavered, fiercely stifling the flood which so desperately wanted to be released. Tell me, his words echoed in her mind, coaxing that writhing something out from the very depths within her.

Tell me.

He didn't say what, because she knew already. He was inviting that horrible thing she tried so damn hard to save him from, and she felt herself buckle from his warmth. So damn weak as usual.

"Sasuke's dead because of me."

The words fell from her lips like lead, stagnating in the silence for an impossible eternity.

"Yes, he is," Kisame confirmed, his hand absentmindedly drifting across the side of her arm - the injured one, he noted, feeling the texture as he traced the marred skin, waiting.

Crack. His words were a pickaxe chipping away at her and she shook, the combination of his touch causing something within her to snap and burst forth.

"I killed him. I poisoned my kunai and I stabbed him in the chest," she said, the words shaking her as they came out. As she heard them for the first time.

And Kisame said nothing, his hand still trailing up her arm. He waited and she hated him for it.

"What, is that what you want from me? Some sort of fucking confession to help me get over what happened and move on?" she ground out, her teeth clenched as her hands balled into tight fists at her sides.

Kisame looked her dead in the eyes. She found no judgement, no pity, no mockery just...

Crack.

Sakura's lip trembled.

"You wanna know how I feel? I feel like a fucking failure, okay?" she said, her words wavering as she began to slip to that place she tried to reign herself in from. She stood there on the edge just waiting for him so he could push-

"I've betrayed Konoha, I've betrayed my friends, I betrayed Naruto by killing his best friend," she said, then she closed her eyes as her voice slightly dimmed.

"And I betrayed you Kisame. I was supposed to help you take down Madara. I was supposed to be strong so that you didn't think you were stuck with some pathetic weakling as a partner, but you still had to come to my rescue when he found me. Sasuke tried to kill us both, but this is how I feel after all of that. After he did this to my goddamn arm, I still just can't-"

Kisame watched the girl's words waver as her anger waned and was replaced by the heavy sadness that so desperately wanted to be released. Without thinking, he closed the distance between them and encircled his arms around her firmly, feeling the girl's shaky body pressed against his as she finally let out a soft sob against his chest.

"You're not a failure, kunoichi."

Sakura let out a choked, humorless laugh.

"Kunoichi. You're always calling me that, and right now I feel like the shittiest ninja there is."

"You can't tell east from west, you can't cook, and you definitely aren't a very good killer, but you're a great ninja."

Sakura's eyes widened as she looked up at Kisame's own darkened gaze.

"I just wanted to save him. I thought I could - I really did..."

He raked a hand through her hair.

"You of all people should know that some people can't be saved."

Her feet numbed. She did know - she remembered every face that withered beneath her blazing green chakra as she desperately tried to keep them from the darkness. The last puffs of air. The deflating chest. The cooling of blood beneath the skin. The horrible, unbroken beeping that resonated within the operating rooms on a daily basis as medics raised their hands in defeat and announced times of death. The snap of latex gloves coming off. The rustle of cool linen as it covered the steadily-cooling bodies. Then the anxious quiet amidst the beeping as eyes shifted between one another, wondering who would volunteer to break the news.

She hated the death, she really did. And as much as she had hardened herself in the last years in not mourning over each cold body, Sakura learned that the hardest thing to overcome was what was left behind. The husbands, the wives, the children, the friends. She hated being the one with the burden of delivering the news, and so she barely did, always slipping away into dark cracks and having someone else take it on because in the end, Sakura realized there was nothing worse. The hopeful, waiting faces outside, then the look of shock, the immense grief as it etched its way along each facial muscle, then the subsequent outpour of tears, of anguish. That realization that they were truly, truly gone.

And now, she felt like she was the one on the receiving end of that carefully constructed ritual. It was as if Sasuke's death had just become news to her, but Kisame's gaze didn't harbor the same rehearsed sympathy she was trained to use. He looked at her as if he could see deep within, and lure out whatever dark things she hid beneath the surface. Gulping back the lump in her throat, another stream of tears slid down her cheeks.

He said nothing, his hand moving up against her arms, and Sakura sucked in a breath of air as Kisame trailed across a tender swath of nerves on the back of her arm, bringing her back from the blackness she was revisiting. She closed her eyes, remembering his hands when he first touched her there - when the skin was broken and seeping blood around burnt crevices.

No, some people couldn't be saved, but sometimes, sometimes...

"Sometimes they can," she said, barely audible even in the silence, looking up at him.

And the physical reminder might have been ugly, but what it brought was anything but. He was here - open and available as a vessel for her mourning. Kisame had saved her from Kabuto's lab, from the desert, from Sasuke, and Madara and now, she wanted him to do so just once more - to save her from herself.

He watched the array of emotions play out on her face, and then her eyes gazed up towards him, and in the light that shone through, he saw the intense yearning in those green irises. He heard the unspoken words, and intrinsically stepped closer towards her. Pulled by some unknown force, Kisame lifted a hand up to the side of her face, his thumb brushing through the wet streaks marring her face. He could hear her heart beating loudly in the loaded silence now, unable to tear his eyes from her parted lips. Something within him roared to protect her, to stop the distressed anguish she felt, and he clenched his jaw with fierce restraint, even as his hands around her waist flexed intrinsically, pulling her closer to him. Sakura gasped at the new feeling, her chest about to burst from her erratic heart. His gaze was profound and filled with something she had never before seen from him, and with uncontrollable magnetism, her hand reached up and traced one of the grooves on his face, her own desire reflected in her soft touch.

Kisame closed his eyes, his restraint failing him by the second. Her fingers trailed ever so softly against his cheek, revisiting a path she burned there once before. Yet now, it carried with it something much different. He looked down at the girl, gazing deep into her glassy eyes and wanted to take away that which had wounded her so deeply. Her hands now moved against his chest, delicate and hesitant, as if searching for something but unsure of what.

Every touch of her fingertips shook his control, and he found himself inching closer and closer to her. He heard her nervous gulp, and she lifted her head up to look at him, eyes wide and anticipating. He knew then that he wanted this woman, and perhaps it would be his undoing, but he really wanted to give in just this once. Just to see that sadness from her eyes disappear.

Kisame bent down, unable to resist the girl's pull anymore. His eyes traced those soft, parted lips of hers, and without hesitation, he kissed her.

Sakura's heart stopped for a second as his lips connected with hers, but the wave of longing which followed overwhelmed every sense within her. The shaking hands on his chest now fluttered upwards, towards his collarbone as she felt herself unravel under him. Kisame wound his own hands tighter around her waist as he kissed her again, more fiercely this time, succumbing to the mounting desire within him. How long had he wanted this? It didn't matter now, nothing did except for the way this tiny girl felt in his arms. He could taste the salty tears on her trembling lips, could feel her heart against his chest as it vibrated through him, warring for dominance with his own. Her hesitation was quickly dissipating as her hands wound around his neck, standing on her toes as she struggled to adjust to his height.

Kisame was quick to notice, and without missing a beat, quickly lifted her up, supporting her as he kissed her again with renewed passion. Sakura wrapped her legs around his waist, the sensation sending a jolt of heady desire through him. His hand traveled up her side and she gasped as a wave of goosebumps erupted on her skin. The small sound fanned his burning lust for the girl and he kissed her even harder.

Sakura had never felt this way before, her body feeling like it had ignited. She broke from the kiss, her lips trembling as she rested her forehead against his, both shinobi breathing heavily.

"Please... please don't let me go," she breathed out, her voice wavering.

Kisame's lip quirked up in a small smile, the depth of her words not lost on him.

"I can't," he whispered against her neck, bending down to trace the smooth skin with his lips, "even if I tried."

She let out a soft, choked sob, craning her head back as she let the man take her. Tears trailed down her cheeks as she struggled with her overwhelming emotions. Never had she thought anyone would want a girl like her - not like this, so wholly.

And not after seeing her so broken.

She lifted her head back up, her hands raking feverishly through his hair as she renewed the kiss. She wanted everything he could give her, and she wanted to pour her sadness into him and have him make her happy again. Kisame opened his mouth against hers, snaking his tongue in between her parted lips as he relished the feel of her body pressed against him, her fingers on his scalp, and the overwhelming way she tasted. Time had stopped and he didn't care about anything else anymore. He kissed her deeply, his tongue intertwined with hers as her pelvis moved deliciously against him, breathing heavier as his hands moved up and under her shirt.

Kisame couldn't hold back much more. He cupped her breast over her bra as he kissed her, both of them anticipating the next wave of heat as they explored one another. He adjusted his arm around her waist, pulling her close as the hand still on her breast moved, pulling her shirt up and over her head. The way she had arched back for him made his breath catch in his throat, and she blushed at the way he looked at her. Kisame brought his other arm to grip her behind and his lips connected with hers with even more intensity.

Not breaking the kiss, he walked over to his bedroom, Sakura's legs instinctively winding tighter around him as he carried her. His tongue was smooth against hers, and if she could think properly, she would have been surprised that his teeth didn't get in the way. And he tasted so dark and rugged, like forests and moss and sea foam, and she wanted more - wanted to know every part of him like he knew her.

At some point, Sakura felt his body bend forward as her back connected with the soft mattress. Suddenly his intoxicating scent was all around her as she tangled her hands in his sheets and waited for this man to repair that which had shattered within her. Kisame's hands slowly moved back under her, wanting to feel her warm skin flush against his. He broke away from her lips, hands on the hem of his t-shirt as he prepared to take it off. He paused, taking in the sight of her hair splayed against his pillow, her chest rising and falling with her quick breaths. The light from the window cast bars against her small frame, bringing emphasis to the bags under her eyes - the redness that lined them reminding him of just how vulnerable this girl was. The lust in his eyes quickly gave way to concern then, and he watched a blush rise on her cheeks as she glanced away from his scrutiny.

Kisame paused for a moment, his body still towering over hers and he sighed deeply, sweeping a lock of her hair from her face behind her ear.

It was then that he realized he had gone too far, that his desire for this woman was misplaced. She was here because of someone else, after all.

"I won't do this to you," he said, his voice heavy with his own disappointment.

Sakura's heart sunk. She feebly moved her arm over her bra-clad chest and bit back the incredible wave of hurt and embarrassment which washed over her, not daring to look into his face for fear of what she'd see there. Kisame hated himself right then, hated that his own stupid desire had taken him this far. Yes, he did still want her, but not like this. He wanted her to want him just as much, and that was something he had never experienced nor cared for with anyone prior. He would not take advantage of her in the moment of her deepest weakness, when her heart was ready to latch on to anything for reprieve - especially not if there was a chance she'd regret it later. That thought alone was enough to cement his resolve, and it caused a gripping tightness in his chest. He ran a hand through his hair as he pushed himself away from her, but her own shot out and clutched the fabric of his shirt, stopping him.

He looked down at the hand, then at Sakura, still refusing to meet his eyes.

"Please."

He swallowed hard, finding it difficult to breathe at the sheer pleading in her voice.

"I can't bear it if you leave now, Kisame. Please, stay. I know it's selfish of me, but I can't watch you go. I can't lose you too."

The man's heart skipped a beat at the way she bared herself so openly to him, and he absently nodded, knowing he was unable to deny her anything. If only she knew just how selfish he thought himself.

But I can't lose you too.

And if only she knew how deeply it cut him, the lingering ghost of someone else in her words.

"I'll stay."

He leaned back forward slightly, casting a shadow over her as his lips brushed her forehead - the one she hated so much - lingering on her skin for a few moments before breaking away and settling in beside her.

Her eyes were wide, having expected complete rejection at her candid request, and she fought the urge to cry again. Sakura lay there frozen as she tried to steady her ever-beating heart.

A faint rustle of fabric resounded in the room as a thin sheet fluttered over her still-hot skin. After a moment, she turned to her side, abandoning the last shreds of dignity within her as she inched closer to the laying man. The fact was, whatever he had done to her with his words and his heated touch had helped lighten that heaviness inside, and she wanted nothing more than to be close to him now - if not in the passionate way just moments earlier, then just like this.

"I'm sorry," she managed after a while, barely audible to him amidst his own racing thoughts.

"Me too," he said, picking up the spike of salt in the air, as he felt her warm body press against his.

'Me too,' he thought, and turned towards the curled up girl, an arm reaching around her as she shook out the demons which plagued her with sob after heart-wrenching sob.


A/N: I'm sorry too.

Sorry if I made anyone cry, but I really felt like this moment was needed. This is probably my favorite chapter, and I really poured my heart into making it perfect and genuine concerning Sakura's grief. Because obviously, I'm not going to perpetuate the idea that Sakura's a cold-hearted bitch.

I also dearly hope that nobody thinks I made Kisame super OOC or something - I do feel like he's not as much of an impenetrable rock as we may think (and we can see that with his interactions with Itachi in the manga). I'm not a fluff fan at all when it comes to the guy, and if someone thinks I made him really cheesy then I will seriously cry. BUT, don't let that discourage any critical/constructive reviews because as much as I adore reading the super positive, gushing ones, I also love the constructive ones as well! I'll take anything, because it really keeps me going. Anyway, now that I have burst at least some of the sexual tension (and that's not the extent of it btw), I'm going to sleep and will hopefully have the next chapter up soon...ish *dodges bullets*

By the way, let it be known that those reviews which state that you spent hours and hours reading Coercion from start to finish make me feel extremely humbled. I'm floored that something I wrote for fun makes anyone want to spend so much time with it, so thank you. Also this story is nearing an end (I think). I'm envisioning like maybe 4 more long chapters, yeah? Maybe less. IDK. Now adieu my beautiful readers, and until next time~!