Author's Note: So...this is another long one. I'm going to throw out some trigger warnings but they're pretty mild. The use of alcohol as a coping mechanism is a major theme of this chapter and the story as a whole moving forward. We're starting to get to the deeper content in this chapter and the next few. Also, I promise this story really is about Tenzo and Sakura together, it's just going to take us a while to get there (note the glacial burn tag lol I wasn't kidding). We're entering the first arc of the story as it's planned currently and there will be considerably more interaction between them moving forward.
After dropping an armful of files across her desk, Sakura slumped into her chair. The lamp spread a halo of pale light across the papers that had begun to resemble precarious mountains with styrofoam cup trees at the bases. Despite working three hours past the end of her shift, Sakura still needed to spend several more to complete her charting. It had taken a month in her new position to realize that she needed one day each week devoted to paperwork.
Despite that, Sakura's efforts didn't seem enough. She had to update her patient's charts like she'd done before, but now, she also had to oversee a variety of administrative tasks that ended up on her desk. There were budget reports to review, staff schedules to create, training programs to consider, and any number of things that she'd never had to worry about in the past. Since talking to Kakashi about finding an assistant, Sakura couldn't help but wonder if she should do the same. Kazuko was a natural with the administrative side, but she would need someone with an aptitude for medical ninjutsu to fill her position eventually.
The scrape of fabric drew Sakura's attention from her self-pitying thoughts. Though she no longer wore the jonin uniform beneath her lab coat, a weapon pouch circled her thigh. Some habits remained in peace or war. She pulled a kunai from the leather holster and spun her chair, ready to release the weapon at the first sign of danger. A form materialized from a dark corner of the room, grey eyes smiling. "They never warn you about the paperwork, do they?"
Recognizing Kakashi, Sakura lowered the kunai and tucked it away. The man lounged on the arm of the couch, long legs stretched in front of him like he'd been waiting for a while. The robes and hat were nowhere to be seen, but Sakura envisioned the weight dragging at his shoulders. Besides, the new jonin uniform was different enough from Sakura's version of Kakashi that it had become a sign of his office anyway. She bowed her head in greeting. "What can I do for you, Hokage-sama?"
Kakashi snorted and pushed to his feet. "Drop the title, firstly."
As Kakashi moved closer to her desk, Sakura humored him with a smile that strained at her patience. She'd been working for fourteen hours today, and while she liked Kakashi well enough, Sakura wanted to know what new chaos he was bringing into her life. There was no way that Kakashi was making a social visit at this time of night, so he needed something. He eyed the stacks of paper, nearly knocking one over when he got too close. Sakura batted the hands away from her work. "Is there something I can help you with?"
"Your desk doesn't look much different from mine." Kakashi's eyes conveyed a deeper sense of amusement. Sakura realized that she could read the man's emotions much better without the sharingan or headband that slanted across his face. Something about the comparison and teasing tone drew a flush of annoyance onto Sakura's cheeks.
Taking a deep breath, Sakura reined her temper under control. She and Kakashi were friends and former teammates, which offered her some leniency, but he was still the hokage. "I'm sorry," she said, further moderating her tone. "What I meant to say is that I'm terribly busy and—"
"And, you don't have time to enjoy my company," Kakashi finished Sakura's argument before she could articulate the sentiment more gently. The man's lips twitched into a smile beneath his mask when he held up a hand to stop her rebuttal. "I understand, I really do. But, I need a favor."
"A favor," Sakura repeated, grimacing at the aftertaste that the word left in her mouth. She had more than enough work piled on her desk without accepting more, especially not knowing what she was getting into. But, she wasn't sure if this was the type of task that she could refuse. "What kind of favor?"
Kakashi rubbed the back of his neck and offered an apology with his eyes. "The kind that takes up more of your time, unfortunately."
Sakura groaned before she could stop herself. Of course it was time consuming. But, she couldn't tell Kakashi no, even if she wanted to. He crossed the office, producing a stack of files from somewhere that she couldn't see. There couldn't have been more than twenty, slim folders, but they hit Sakura's desk like stone. Kakashi rested his fingertips on top of them. "These are the files on my current Anbu."
A quip died on the tip of Sakura's tongue as she reached for the top cover, frowning. "I thought there would be more of them. And, shouldn't they say top secret or something? These look like every other shinobi file that crosses my desk."
"That's the point," Kakashi teased, drawing his hand back and crossing his arms over his chest. "Can you think of anything that would make them more likely to be read than putting a warning across the front? This way, they hide in plain sight."
Nodding along with the logic, Sakura pulled the first file from the stack and flipped it open. A painfully young shinobi stared back at her. She didn't recognize him; the boy could have been anyone. Sakura did a double take when she skimmed the medical information and saw that he was six years older than her. Her gaze shifted back to Kakashi. "What am I supposed to do with these?"
Kakashi stared down at the photo for a moment, then sighed. "I've been thinking about the concerns you raised with Yamato, and you were right. We aren't at war any longer; I need to know that my Anbu are sound, physically and mentally."
"Did you check on him?" Sakura had nearly gone to Kakashi half a dozen different times to ask, but she'd forced herself to trust him. If he said that he would take care of the situation with Yamato, he would. But, she had a difficult time holding back.
Kakashi remained silent as Sakura closed the file and replaced it on the stack. Then, his chin dipped in a sharp nod. Sakura let the silence drag out until Kakashi continued, answering her unasked question. "The mission clearly affected him, but I think he's bouncing back."
A knot of tension released in Sakura's chest. When Tsunade left the village, she'd given Sakura a copy of Kakashi's file in case she ever needed it. Sakura had left it unopened for weeks, not wanting to pry into the man's past without reason. But, after the questions about Yamato, Sakura had thumbed through the document to get an idea of how well the two men knew each other. The history that leapt to life from the pages shocked her.
Not only had Yamato and Kakashi known each other during their Anbu days, they'd served on the same team. They had completed countless missions together over the years. As curious as she was, Sakura forced herself not to read the notes. Knowing the basics of their history was enough to soothe some of Sakura's worries. Kakashi knew Yamato far better than she did. If he thought that Yamato was okay, he probably was.
Kakashi nodded toward files, breaking Sakura's train of thought. "Tsunade had been taking care of the physicals, and the evaluations hadn't seemed that important until the other day."
They hadn't seemed that important until you suggested that one of my friends was struggling. Sakura heard the words that Kakashi wasn't ready to admit, even if he didn't. She framed her next question with care, half afraid of the anwer. "Does your visit exempt Yamato from this round of physicals?"
Sakura knew that Kakashi wanted to pretend that Yamato couldn't possibly be struggling, but her questions had planted the doubts too deeply. He shook his head after a few seconds of consideration. "No, as head of Anbu, Yamato needs to be evaluated as well."
Sakura tried to keep her mouth from falling open at the revelation, but the beginnings of a surprised gasp slid between her lips. Kakashi snorted under his breath. "Have you even looked at his file? I assumed that you'd scoured every detail before you came to me with questions."
"I didn't realize I could," Sakura began, then stopped short. On a subconscious level she'd known that she could get the file if she wanted it, but it wasn't easy to reach. When Sakura had agreed to take over medical oversight for Anbu, she'd been granted access to the files. But, she hadn't thought to make use of them. Something about using Yamato's past that way felt like an invasion of privacy. She didn't want to do that until she had a solid reason.
Nudging the files over so that they spread across the desk like a fan, Kakashi fished through them and came up with one that appeared identical to the others. When he flipped it open, Sakura studied Yamato's almost familiar features in the picture. It must have been recent, there were lines at the edges of his eyes and mouth that she didn't remember from when they'd first met. Still, it looked healthier than the man that she'd recently signed off to return to active duty.
Ignoring the sense of guilt that gnawed at her stomach, Sakura frowned at Kakashi. "What am I looking for?"
Long fingers slid across the page, coming to rest just above the years of service. Sakura's mouth dropped as she frowned at the number. "That can't be right," she argued, doing some quick backward math. "He would have had to join Anbu when he was ten; nobody joins that young."
"Eleven, actually," Kakashi corrected. He shrugged his shoulders in a nonchalant manner that suggested that he cared more than he wanted to admit. "What makes you an expert on Anbu ages, anyway? I was only thirteen when I joined; you were barely a genin by then."
At thirteen, Sakura had been afraid to work out too hard lest she get bulky muscles that Sasuke wouldn't like. Her crush had determined every aspect of her life, consuming it. The idea of living through the things that she'd learned about Anbu during the past few weeks while at that age was horrifying.
Unbidden, Sakura studied Kakashi. She couldn't help but wonder how different he must have been to survive Anbu. Her heart ached for the innocence that he and Yamato had surely given up to be in the black ops so young. Had they ever had a normal life, even by shinobi standards? Had they left genin teams behind? Had they lost their friends and first crushes in the process? She didn't want to think about it. "You were just kids."
"We were shinobi in a time of war," Kakashi countered with a shrug. A dusting of pink showed above the edges of his mask, but Sakura wasn't sure if it was annoyance or embarrassment that colored his cheeks. Kakashi closed Yamato's file. "I wasn't looking for pity, for either of us. I just want you to know that Yamato has been doing this long enough to live through some dark days. He knows how to handle it."
Sakura nodded, but she couldn't help but wonder if living through more trauma made a person better at hiding their struggles than dealing with them. She wondered what darkness Kakashi's easygoing nature hid. Deciding that she'd rather not know until she needed to, Sakura pushed the files back into a stack. "I'll clear my schedule to get these done. You'll have the results by the end of next week."
Kakashi eye smiled, tension flowing out of his posture at the easy acceptance. "Thank you. I wish it wasn't more work on top of what you already have."
"Some things are important enough to take precedence," Sakura answered, waving away Kakashi's apology. This would give her a chance to dig deeper into Yamato's mental state as well as familiarize herself with the other Anbu. If she could save even one of them, it was worth however much time it took.
After the meeting with Kakashi, Sakura dug through Tsunade's notes until she found the procedure to evaluate Anbu. It wasn't that different from a standard shinobi physical, and Sakura had done those for years. She decided on a basic medical examination that included height, weight, blood pressure, temperature, oxygen saturation, and heart rate. Then, the Anbu would be subjected to a stress test where she repeated the measurements and checked for abnormalities in heart rhythm and lung function.
Tsunade's notes made almost no mention of mental health. There were a few suggestions about developing a process, but Tsunade hadn't followed up on it. Sakura found a standardized screening for depression and added that to her examination. A rapid mental health assessment was better than none at all. Besides, Sakura could always refer someone to Torture and Interrogation if she felt they needed more help.
After some thought, Sakura dug out a medical journal that dealt with post traumatic stress disorder and pulled a questionnaire from that as well. Most shinobi dealt with trauma in one form or another, but Anbu did more so. Sakura wavered about adding a tox screen to the blood work that she already had planned. The evidence that she'd found with Yamato decided her, however. If the head of Anbu was using dangerous levels of stimulants, even if only after a mission, it was possible that others were as well.
Once Sakura outlined the procedures in the computer for whomever came after her, she blocked out three days to complete the exams. Sakura would have preferred to do them all at once, but there were only so many hours in a day. Rushing through these physicals would be as detrimental as not doing them at all, and Sakura didn't want to miss anything. She had to do this right if she was going to change Anbu for the better.
Most of the shinobi who submitted to Sakura's poking and prodding were unfamiliar. She thought she recognized a couple of them in passing, but she couldn't be sure. The first person that Sakura knew was Sai. He hadn't changed much in the two years since the war, though he seemed more at ease with himself than he had when they'd first met. His smiles looked more genuine, and his tone was less acerbic, at least. They had a pleasant conversation, and she didn't feel the need to smack him, so Sakura called that a win. It was a nice rest before her most difficult patient of the day.
Sakura hadn't thought that Saiyo could be worse than the last time she'd seen her, but she was wrong. The girl was on edge, knee bouncing with nervous energy as she answered the psych questions without missing a beat. Sakura found herself wondering if the girl had been coached on how to respond. She didn't like that implication, but wasn't sure if there was anything she could do about it. Changes to Anbu would come slowly, someone just needed to be patient enough to see that they happened.
By the time that Yamato's exam came, near the end of the second day, Sakura could have done them in her sleep. He stepped into the room with an uncharacteristic scowl on his face. "Sakura," he acknowledged, dipping his head as he shut the door behind him.
Sakura offered a smile that she hoped looked friendlier than she felt. The stiffness in Yamato's posture and the jut of his jaw told her that he didn't want to be there. Honestly, Sakura had expected Yamato to try and get out of the examination given how much time he'd spent in the hospital lately. "We'll make this as painless as possible," she said, folding his file open on the desk beside her.
The chuckle in the back of Yamato's throat sounded genuine, so Sakura took it as a good sign. The preliminary stats were easy. When she recorded Yamato's weight, Sakura checked it against his previous physical. She'd been right; he'd lost almost fifteen pounds over the previous year, but that was hardly noteworthy. A mission that lasted longer than a month could do that to anyone.
The initial measurements were on par with Sakura's expectations, so she didn't comment on them. After she finished writing the details down, she nodded toward the opposite side of the room where a treadmill and computer terminal waited. "Alright, go ahead and take off your shirt."
The lines around Yamato's mouth deepened into a frown as he followed Sakura's gaze. "Why am I doing that, exactly?"
The pinkette arched one eyebrow at the combativeness in Yamato's tone. She'd had this conversation too many times over the past two days to be annoyed by it. "Because I told you to?" Relenting a little, Sakura walked over and raised one of the leads hanging over the bars of the treadmill. "I'm going to attach these to your chest so that I can check your heart and lung function while you run. It's not that bad, I promise."
Grunting a nonresponse, Yamato pushed to his feet and lifted his shirt over his head in one smooth movement. He tossed the garment onto a chair and walked toward the machine. Sakura held up a set of sticky white pads that she needed to attach for the test. "I'll put these on first, then I can get you hooked up."
Sakura tugged the first electrode from the paper and placed it near the center of Yamato's chest. The muscle under her fingers tensed when she pressed the skin. Yamato shifted to the right when she placed the second one, lips compressing into a tight line. When Sakura's fingers walked across the bare skin to the next location, his squirming grew more pronounced. At the brush of a fingertip along the bottom of his pectoral muscle, Yamato jumped.
Sakura huffed and pulled her hand back. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," Yamato ground out between clenched teeth. His body curled away from Sakura's touch when she started again. Frowning, she traced the curve of an upper ab. Yamato jerked to the side, hip catching the bar of the treadmill as he grabbed Sakura's hand in a bruising grip.
When Sakura opened her palm to show that she wasn't trying to touch him any longer, Yamato released her hand. She eyed the remaining pieces that she needed to place as realization dawned on her. "Are you ticklish?"
"Does that matter?" Yamato asked, swatting at the hand that crept toward his side. When he saw the electrode, he stopped trying to push Sakura away. She smoothed the sticky pad onto the skin and found the next placement by moving her fingers over the air instead.
"I've known you for years. How did I not know that you were this ticklish," Sakura questioned as she placed the last electrode on Yamato's chest. When she moved like she was going to brush his side again, the man shied away and leveled Sakura with a glare that under any other circumstances would have made her blood run cold. Now, she found it amusing.
"You didn't have a reason to know," Yamato groused, displeasure written on every feature. "Can we get on with this, please?"
Sakura offered a cheeky grin. "Well, if I ever need to get information out of you, at least I know the best method of torture to try."
Yamato's face turned a sickly shade of green as Sakura laughed. As much as she wanted to continue patronizing him, professionalism prevented it. Trying to suppress her grin, Sakura connected the wires to the pads on Yamato's chest. A belt that looped just below his belly button held the machine that would collect the readings. Though Sakura kept her touch light, the man twitched at the inevitable slide of fingertips as she adjusted the velcro. Finally, Sakura secured a blood pressure cuff around Yamato's right bicep.
"There," Sakura declared with a satisfied nod. "We will start at an easy walk and progress to a run. Once I have enough information, I'll start a cool down to bring everything back down safely. Do you have any questions?"
When Yamato shook his head, Sakura moved over to the machine that would monitor and print the results for his file. Yamato rolled his shoulders in a slow circle, drew a deep breath through his nose, then released it in a steady stream through his lips. The blood pressure cuff hissed to life, giving Sakura the control number for the test. It was higher than her first reading, but well within the range of normal. Maybe the tickling really had bothered him that much.
Sakura watched Yamato's heart rate drop, then creep upward in a steady rhythm. "Everything okay," she asked, studying the leads to see if one had come loose. Everything looked like it was attached, and the numbers weren't overly concerning. Yamato nodded that he was fine, so Sakura made a note then increased the speed and incline on the treadmill.
These tests were generally used to determine the heart's capacity for stress through exercise. Irregularities were spotted more readily when the heart was taxed. Sakura started with the assumption that Anbu didn't have any problems, then pushed their heart rate high enough to check. It meant spending longer in the test to get results, but it gave her an accurate picture of the physical health of each patient. After a couple of minutes to warm up, Sakura increased the pace until Yamato broke into a slow jog that moved toward a run as the minutes ticked forward.
One of the frustrating things that came with being in peak condition was the need to push the Anbu harder to get higher numbers. Yamato moved with smooth efficiency, every stride calculated to reduce wasted effort. As she watched the steady rhythm of muscle tensing and relaxing, Sakura couldn't help but wonder how she had missed the hallmarks of Anbu training.
Beads of sweat formed on Yamato's chest and forehead as his respiration increased. Sakura watched his heart rate climb then fall, then climb again. The pattern nudged at something in the back of her mind, but she couldn't put her finger on it. Sakura held Yamato at the same pace until the blood pressure cuff hissed back to life to give her the final reading, then started the cool down sequence. The incline and pace gradually diminished until the man could drop to a jog, then a fast walk.
Rivulets of perspiration snaked down Yamato's face when he put his feet on the sides of the treadmill and turned toward Sakura. "Well?"
Sakura tossed a towel toward her patient and grinned. "You're in pretty good shape for a man of your age."
"A man of my age," Yamato repeated, swiping the cloth across his forehead then scrubbing through his hair. "What is that supposed to mean?"
The indignation in Yamato's voice only increased Sakura's grin. "Oh, you know, you didn't die. That's always a good sign."
"I'm not even the oldest person in Anbu," Yamato mumbled under his breath as Sakura reached up to remove the blood pressure cuff from his arm. Shaking her head, she tossed it over the front of the treadmill, then unhooked the belt around Yamato's waist. If her cool fingertips brushed across the warm skin until he jumped, it was a coincidence. As soon as Sakura unhooked the final wire, Yamato slid out of her reach. "You did that on purpose," he accused.
"Did what?" While Sakura hadn't quite perfected the fake innocence that Ino had, she was a close second.
Yamato rolled his eyes and ran the towel down his chest and stomach to remove the sweat that had accumulated there. He tugged at the patches that Sakura had left, lifting each one away with care. She followed the movements with her eyes, wondering if he'd always been that muscular beneath the jonin uniform. The dark blues hid a shinobi's physique while the Anbu blacks highlighted it. Honestly, Sakura had ever paid much attention to Yamato beyond the fact that he was Kakashi's temporary replacement. Not until now, anyway.
After removing the last, sticky disc, Yamato stepped past Sakura to collect his shirt. Once it was in place, he looked at her expectantly. She nodded toward the chair across from where she was sitting, surprised that Yamato didn't act as annoyed as he had earlier. Exercise and training were great ways to take the edge off, which was why Sakura started with those. "We have a blood draw next, then a final evaluation, and you're free to go."
Yamato looked thoughtful, then rolled up the right sleeve of his shirt. "What's this for?"
"Standard screening to get everyone's baseline and check for anything that looks out of normal ranges. If that pops up, I'll order more in depth testing." Sakura positioned the vials beside her on the desk and watched Yamato from the corner of her eye. If he suspected that his previous results were the main reason for the blood work, he didn't show it. The man clenched his teeth when she inserted the needle, but Sakura couldn't be sure of the reason for his discomfort. It could be anything from hating needles, to the concern that his results might not come back clean.
Under normal circumstances, Sakura would have delegated this part to someone else, but this was Anbu. She had completed every exam on her own to cut down on the number of eyes who had access to the results. Only Sakura and the lab tech who ran the blood tests would know how each test concluded. Well, and Kakashi, but he wouldn't read them. He would expect Sakura to tell him all of the pertinent information. Then, she supposed he would pass them on to Yamato.
Sakura withdrew the needle and taped a piece of gauze over the small wound. Yamato tugged his sleeve back down to his wrist as Sakura smiled. "One down, one to go."
Despite knowing that the mental screening was necessary, Sakura didn't like it. She could think of a dozen times when she would have lied or at least skirted the truth on these types of questions. Shinobi were trained to hide their emotions and never talk about them; getting in touch with their feelings was counter to every thing that they'd been taught. But, it had to start somewhere. Why not here and now?
"I'm going to ask you some questions, and I want you to answer as honestly as possible, okay? There are no right or wrong answers." Sakura waited for Yamato's nod, wondering if he had expected this to be part of the physical. Somehow, she doubted it. And, while Sakura had pushed for this, going through the process with Yamato was more daunting than she'd anticipated. Taking a deep breath, she began. "In the past month, have you experienced a loss of interest in things that you previously enjoyed?"
Yamato's brow furrowed as he shook his head. "No?"
Sakura scribbled down a note next to each question before moving on. "What about a feeling of hopelessness or depression over the past month? Or, have you had a feeling that things would be easier if you disappeared?"
"Of course not," Yamato snapped, heat entering his voice.
As much as Sakura wanted to address the anger that Yamato felt, she couldn't bring herself to look up. "Okay, good. What about thoughts of hurting yourself?"
The silence dragged on for several heartbeats, long enough that Sakura's curiosity overcame her fear. She raised her eyes to meet Yamato's, and anger or something that looked like betrayal filled his gaze. "Is everyone being asked these questions, or do I get special consideration?"
"Every Anbu is getting a psych evaluation as part of their physical." Sakura kept her voice neutral but firm, the way that Tsunade had taught her. Yamato didn't need to know that his case in particular had been the spark to start the fire. "They're overdue-"
"You don't think I would recognize that someone needs help?" Yamato's voice sharpened the words to daggers, and Sakura felt the pressure around her throat. The accusation surprised her; she'd never considered Yamato's ability to remedy mental health issues as head of Anbu. Could he pull someone off a team pending counseling? Would he do that if he thought that someone needed it?
Sighing, Sakura laid the clipboard and questionnaire on the desk. "That isn't what I'm saying. But, I think that some people can disguise it better than others. Mental health has never been a high priority for shinobi. That changes now."
The derisive snort told Sakura exactly what Yamato thought of her answer. She wanted to leave things there, to apologize for the test, but she couldn't. When Sakura opened her mouth to ask Yamato to answer for the record, he shook his head. "No, I haven't had thoughts of hurting myself."
The questions were invasive and uncomfortable. Sakura hated them, but she had to ask or things would never change. "What about appetite? Have you been eating enough? Too much?"
"Your antibiotics didn't agree with me, but otherwise, yes." Yamato ran his fingers through his hair and glanced at the clock, signaling that he thought this line of questioning was a complete waste of time. "My appetite is fine."
Despite the dismissive nature of Yamato's body language, Sakura felt a knot of nervousness release in her chest. If Yamato was willing to admit that he'd lost weight from being sick with the antibiotics, he was probably telling the truth about the rest of it. "Are you getting enough sleep? Have you had any trouble falling or staying asleep? Recurring nightmares? Or, conversely, have you been sleeping too much?"
"You know that I didn't sleep well in the hospital." Yamato shrugged, then tipped his head to the side as if considering. "You also know that I've been taking an unexpected break from missions lately, which allows me to get more sleep. I'm not sure why you're asking me questions if you already know the answer."
Sakura let out a measured breath and didn't rise to the bait. "Humor me."
"I sleep fine, neither too much, nor too little. Everything is fine, and these questions are unnecessary." Yamato crossed his arms over his chest. The earlier levity from the stress test disappeared, and Sakura wished that she could go back to that moment of playful teasing about being ticklish. It was preferable to the tension between them now. Regardless, Sakura continued.
No, Yamato didn't have trouble concentrating lately. He had no unexplained fatigue or bouts or rage. There were no problems with his short or long term memory. All in all, the answers were textbook perfect. Sakura hadn't expected anything less. After making a few final notations in Yamato's file, Sakura closed it. "Okay, that's everything I've got for you. Thanks."
"Yeah," Yamato agreed, pushing to his feet. He started to move away, then paused and turned back. "I know you're probably not supposed to tell me, but did anyone fail your evaluation?"
Sakura considered withholding the information. Technically, everything was protected by doctor and patient confidentiality. On the other hand, Sakura's report would almost certainly end up on Yamato's desk in a few days. Maybe if he was prepared, it would make things easier. "So far, I've referred one for a formal evaluation with T&I. They'll be able to give me a better idea of the individual's mental state and determine what, if any, follow up is necessary."
"Saiyo." Yamato's voice didn't carry the inflection of a question, but Sakura nodded anyway. The surprise must have shown on her face because he chuckled humorlessly. "I told you that I keep an eye on my Anbu. I knew she was struggling after the last mission."
"If you knew, why didn't you get her the help she needed?" Sakura tried and failed to keep the accusation out of her voice. She felt defensive for the woman, even if she couldn't stand her. Saiyo, and every shinobi who struggled in silence, deserved better.
For a minute, Sakura didn't think that Yamato was going to answer her. Then, he sighed. His eyes were distant and haunted, seeing something that Saura couldn't. She felt like she'd caught a rare glimpse of the Yamato behind the mask that he wore as head of Anbu. "She was on the last mission with me. She's actually the only reason I made it back alive." Yamato laughed at Sakura's surprise. "I'm sure she didn't talk about it, because that isn't what she needed. Saiyo needs a couple of days to blow off steam, then to focus on the next mission. She needs to keep moving."
"That isn't the way you work through problems," Sakura began, only to have Yamato cut her off.
"That's not the way you work through problems, up there on a high pedestal where you don't take missions any longer. The rest of us do what we have to do to keep fighting." Yamato made a dismissive gesture. "There are no well adjusted Anbu; if you think differently, you're deluding yourself."
Indignation warred with pity in Sakura's chest. She never would have imagined that Yamato could be so cruelly uncaring when someone needed help. It left a sour taste in her mouth. Before she could vocalize her frustration, Yamato shook his head. "Don't," he interrupted her half formed thoughts. "It's fine."
"It doesn't have to be this way," Sakura managed, struggling to make Yamato see that they should work together to make Anbu a better place for everyone involved. Surely he realized that mentally stable operatives were better than unpredictable ones. Saiyo was an explosion waiting to happen, and he'd done nothing to stop it.
Yamato scoffed, but he didn't argue. He was finished with the conversation. "I'll see you around, Sakura. And, don't worry, I'll make sure Saiyo gets what she needs."
Sakura watched Yamato sweep out of the room, wondering which vice he would use to bolster Saiyo for the next mission. She couldn't help but wonder when the dam would finally break and those emotions would overwhelm the woman. Sakura didn't want to be there when it happened.
Sweat ran into Saiyo's eyes, stinging almost as much as the smoke that drifted on the breeze. Her hands dropped to her knees as she looked across the destruction of the training field. A few smoldering trees stood in the blackened expanse, tendrils of smoke leaking from their blackened trunks toward the sky and patchy clouds overhead. She blew a breath between pursed lips and frowned; she'd lost a couple of hours somehow. It had been just after lunch when Saiyo started training; now, the sun sank toward the horizon.
"Impressive." The voice came from behind Saiyo's right shoulder. She spun on the ball of her foot, kunai soaring through the air toward the speaker with deadly intent.
Metal resonated like a bell, then Saiyo's weapon flipped end over end from a deflection. It stuck upright in the ground at Tenzo's feet, and he tossed the other next to it. Saiyo didn't apologize for attacking on instinct. The man should have known better than to surprise her. She grunted an acknowledgment and stalked close enough to pull her kunai from the dirt. "Thanks."
"Been out here long?" Tenzo's voice sounded conversational, but Saiyo heard the tension in it. She wondered what had put it there, but she didn't ask. Maybe he'd completed his physical at the hospital today; that was enough to leave anyone on edge. Three days later, and the memory still left a bitter taste in her mouth.
When Saiyo shook her head in response to Tenzo's earlier question, he gestured at the space around them. "Feel like a spar, then?"
Saiyo arched one eyebrow, letting her gaze wander over Tenzo's body. Her captain wore the black pants and compression shirt of Anbu, but his protective vest and plates were missing. "You aren't even wearing your armor."
"That'll make it a fair fight then." The arrogance in Tenzo's tone infuriated Saiyo, mostly because it was warranted. The man was impossibly fast, weaving through attacks seemingly without thought. In their three years of training together, Saiyo had developed the sinking suspicion that she only landed the hits that Tenzo wanted her to or because she'd gotten lucky when he was distracted by something else. That didn't stop her from trying, however.
Deciding to use every advantage, Saiyo launched herself at Tenzo in a flash of hands and feet. He danced backward, blocking one strike with his forearms and avoiding the second with a quick dodge. Saiyo didn't care that she hadn't caught him off guard; hand to hand wasn't her specialty, anyway. As if he'd read Saiyo's thoughts, Tenzo leaped to the side when an explosive tag detonated where he'd been standing moments before.
"A bit obvious, don't you think?" Tenzo teased, landing in a crouch a couple of feet away. Saiyo growled in the back of her throat, a feral sound that vibrated through her entire body.
Saiyo threw herself forward a second time, a metal rain of shuriken advancing before her. Tenzo slipped through the barrage with ease to stand a few feet away. Saiyopaused, licking her lips as she waited to see if he'd attack first. Tenzo didn't; he stood poised on the balls of his feet to respond rather than advance. Humming under her breath, Saiyo danced backward from the destruction of her earlier training.
An amused smirk curled Tenzo's lip. "Is retreating really the best you've got?"
"Fuck you," Saiyo spat, redoubling her hail of kunai and shuriken. The way Tenzo flowed through them like water was infuriating. She imagined that his skill must be on par with someone who used the sharingan, except Tenzo did it naturally. It wasn't fair for a man to be that good at everything.
When Saiyo had first joined Anbu, she'd thought that Tenzo would be too kind to lead the black ops. He'd been all calm leadership and blunted edges, gentle and soft spoken. Their first mission together disabused Saiyo of that notion. The enemy had been in the middle of mocking Tenzo's skill when the latter's kunai opened his throat. Green eyes had shifted from amusement to confusion in a single heartbeat, then they glazed over. Saiyo had barely registered Tenzo's movement before it was done.
In the years since, Saiyo had seen Tenzo in action more times than she could count. Her respect had only grown. If he wanted to kill her, there would be little that Saiyo could do to stop it. She needed to stay on his good side, then.
As the trees closed tight enough to transform light to shadow, Saiyo waited. Tenzo was more in his element here than she was, floating through the gloom like a ghost. Still, he didn't attack. Saiyo held her ground, eyeing the trees. "Too scared to fight me," she taunted. "I should have expected as much."
Tenzo's disembodied chuckle rose from the darkness to Saiyo's left, and she turned, kunai gripped in her fist. Her eyes scanned the empty shadows, unease growing in the center of her chest. The sound came closer, and Saiyo felt a tug on the strand of chakra that she'd stretched between two trees. Heedless of the danger, she pulsed energy into an explosive tag. Red and white bloomed in an obscene flower to her right, its afterimage burning through the eyelids that Saiyo had squeezed shut at the last second.
"Almost," Tenzo whispered, close enough that Saiyo imagined she could feel the tickle of his breath on her neck. She spun, coming around in a sharp kick that grazed the front of his chest. Tenzo leaned back to let the strike pass, then took advantage of Saiyo's compromised balance. The flat of his palm hit Saiyo's shoulder and knocked her sideways. Before she could right herself, he swept her feet from beneath her.
Saiyo hit the ground hard, but she forced herself to ignore the pain that raced up her spine. Placing her palms flat on the ground beside her hips, she lifted her body and struck at Tenzo's exposed knee with her heel. Had the attack connected, it would have dislocated his kneecap. Tenzo twisted out of range with a smile. "That's better; you nearly got me that time."
Using the momentum from her legs, Saiyo sprang into a low crouch. "You'd deserve it, you ungrateful bastard," she snarled between clenched teeth.
Tenzo blocked Saiyo's next attack with crossed forearms, almost trapping her wrist in his fist. She jerked away and made a feint at his right hip. When he moved to block the attack, she dropped the kick toward his knee instead. Tenzo slid backward to avoid it, moving deeper into the trees. Saiyo lurched forward like she planned to continue attacking, letting him get a couple of paces ahead of her. Then, she grinned. "Gotcha."
Surprise flicked across Tenzo's face as the forest ignited around him. The heat from the explosion kissed Saiyo's cheeks, blowing loose tendrils of hair away from her face. Earlier, when Tenzo had mocked Saiyo for retreating, she'd been laying a trap. Thin ropes of her chakra twisted among the trees where she'd driven Tenzo with their fight. Those cables were connected to explosive tags, and she could detonate them all with a single chakra pulse.
When the air cleared, charred remains smoked a dozen feet away from Saiyo. The sickly scent of the accelerant that she used in her tags filled her lungs when she drew a breath. Despite the destruction, Saiyo didn't lower her guard. One hand gripped a kunai, ready to throw it as soon as she knew where Tenzo was. Her trap hadn't been sophisticated enough to catch him; he knew her skills and tactics almost as well as she did.
"You cut that close—" Saiyo turned, bringing the full momentum of her body in a round kick as soon as she heard the sound. Her shin crashed into Tenzo's unprotected ribs hard enough that he curled to the side to soften the blow. Saiyo allowed her body to complete the circle, using the secondary momentum to crack her knuckles against Tenzo's cheek. He coughed a blood mist into the air and stumbled to the side.
Saiyo could have stopped there, and probably should have, but rage sang in her veins. She pressed the attack, ignoring the semi-dazed expression on Tenzo's face. He gave ground, blocking Saiyo's body punches with slips and dips. He hesitated at bending ribs toward hips on the left side; the damage from her earlier kick was obvious in the movement. Saiyo aimed another strike at the area, reveling in the gasp of pain when Tenzo blocked her elbow.
Since Saiyo had the upper hand, she drove Tenzo backward until his shoulders connected with a tree. A kunai appeared in her hand without any conscious effort. The reaction had been honed in training bouts like this one, the type where if you didn't fight to kill, you might as well not fight at all. She pressed the tip of the blade under Tenzo's chin, surprised to see the glisten of blood from the corner of his mouth. He grinned with red teeth. "Go ahead; do it."
Something hot and angry swelled in Saiyo's chest. Her hand shook, pressing the razor edge of the blade hard enough to slide through the fabric that covered Tenzo's neck. She knew how to deliver the killing blow, an ounce more pressure and she could end it. Tenzo had been the one to teach her that move. She exhaled hard, fighting to swallow around the thing that blocked her throat. The tremble in her arm grew more pronounced as her heartbeat thundered in her ears.
Tenzo closed his fingers around Saiyo's wrist, guiding it away with more gentleness than he had any right to. "I yield."
Growling, Saiyo flung the kunai into the darkness. The heavy thunk of the blade biting into a tree cracked through the forest. She turned away from Tenzo, shame and guilt melding with the emotions already clenching her throat. I almost killed him. I considered it. I was going to-The battle high faded with a sickening spin of nausea that dropped Saiyo to her knees. She retched the sour acids of her stomach onto the leaves, then wiped her mouth with the back of a dirty hand. Saiyo's world spun as silver pinpricks sparkled at the edge of vision. She let her head hang between her shoulders.
The feeling passed in seconds or hours; it could have been either. When Saiyo found her way to her feet, Tenzo stood a little distance away, leaning his right shoulder against a tree. His hand braced the left side of his ribs, applying pressure to draw a breath. When he caught Saiyo's eye he risked one of those stupid half smiles that meant he found the situation more amusing than he should. "Feel better?"
Saiyo growled, unsure if she was more angry at Tenzo or herself. She stared at him under the fading light and realized that he wasn't wearing a weapons pouch. "I could have killed you."
"You could have tried," Tenzo conceded. Then, after running his tongue across his split lip, he laughed. "Technically, I guess you did try."
Saiyo shook her head, anger bleeding out so quickly that she felt dizzy. "Do you have a death wish or something? Isn't it enough that you already nearly died once this month?"
Tenzo raised his shoulders in a shrug then immediately winced at the pain in his side. Saiyo felt a stab of pleasure in the fact that she'd injured him. "Not particularly, but if it's my time to go, it's my time."
The tense silence stretched for several seconds before Tenzo dropped his shoulders with a sigh. "I'm sorry for the way things went on the last mission. Thank you for getting me home in one piece."
"I didn't know if I'd make it in time." Saiyo had meant to brush the gratitude off with a smart assed remark, but the truth slipped out instead. She clenched her jaw against the fear. Ever since Tenzo had decided to go into the compound instead of writing off their mission as a loss, everything had been fucked up. She could still smell the moldy damp of the room, then the thick blood stench that overpowered it.
Tenzo's warm hand curled on Saiyo's shoulder, drawing her away from the edge of waking nightmares. "We did what we had to do. No more, and no less."
"Except you didn't have to," Saiyo accused, the memory of the battle flashing behind her eyelids too quickly to catch. "You took a risk that almost killed you."
Saiyo's voice caught on the last sentence, and somehow, she found herself falling against Tenzo's chest. He grunted at the impact, then closed his arms around her. Tears that Saiyo didn't fully understand burned the corners of her eyes. "It's over," Tenzo murmured, one hand holding her head against him. "You don't have to go back there. It's finished."
Closing her eyes, Saiyo drew a deep breath. The smell of Tenzo's sweat and singed clothing drove the memory back. She told herself that it was stupid to feel safer just because his arms were around her, but she did. Saiyo stayed there for as long as she dared, drawing Tenzo's strength as her own. Then, she pulled back with a chuckle. "I'm glad I didn't kill you."
Tenzo's laugh turned into a hiss as soon as it left his lips. He shifted to ease the pain in his side. "You tried really, really hard. I'm pretty sure you broke one of my ribs."
"You deserved it." Saiyo rubbed her eyes once more to make sure that the tears hadn't fallen, then walked back toward the clearing where her pack was. "Don't do stupid shit like that again."
Tenzo nodded and plucked the kunai from the tree that it had hit when he passed. He offered the weapon hilt first to Saiyo. She wondered what he was thinking about, but didn't want to pry. Tenzo broke the silence when he was ready. "It's been a shitty couple of weeks. If you're done pummeling me for the day, why don't you come over and unwind at my place?"
Saiyo tipped her head to the side to study Tenzo's face in the failing light as she considered the offer. Then, she grinned. "I'm not making any promises on that first part."
"Fair enough." Tenzo's lopsided smile looked genuine as he nodded back toward the village. "I can make it up to you, though. There's a bottle of whiskey back at my apartment with our names on it."
The lure of Tenzo's presence for the night was almost as strong as the promise of alcohol, but Saiyo didn't say that as she hefted the bag in her hand. "Fine, but if it doesn't taste better than the last time—"
"You'll what," Tenzo teased, tossing his good arm over Saiyo's shoulders. "Stop drinking my alcohol for free? Damn, how will I ever manage?"
Saiyo pretended that she was going to elbow Tenzo's already abused side. He grit his teeth, breath whistling out in a thankful exhale when she didn't connect the blow. She bumped her hip against his, instead. "Admit it, your life would be boring without me in it."
"Probably," Tenzo agreed, guiding Saiyo away from the training fields and toward Konoha with light pressure on her shoulder. "Though, I'd also probably sleep more comfortably tonight." He rubbed at his side for effect, and Saiyo rolled her eyes.
"Fine, you big baby. When we get back to your place, I'll see what I can do to help you forget about that for a little while, at least." Saiyo felt the half step that Tenzo missed as the subtext of her words registered. Warmth crawled up her chest and settled in her cheeks. "We could put some ice on it, or I could help you wrap them?"
Tenzo's soft laugh sounded uncertain, but he didn't pull away. "Yeah, that sounds good."
Twenty four hours after completing the final Anbu exam, Sakura had the lab results. Saiyo had been the only person that she referred to T&I for further evaluation. Another needed a round of antibiotics for an infection that he'd probably picked up while on a mission outside of the village. A third needed additional blood work due to a high white cell count, and a fourth—
Sakura eyed the report laying on the left side of her desk. The fury that she'd felt when she initially read the words had morphed into an emotion that she refused to examine. Shock, confusion, hurt, and betrayal were all there, but they were twisted together into something else. Sakura had cross referenced the results with the Anbu mission record and still came up with no reason for the numbers that she'd seen. The most obvious conclusion left her angry, so she ignored it.
Compiling the data into a report for Kakashi had proven more difficult than Sakura anticipated. The exams spanned dozens of variables, but she thought she'd organized them all in a manner that made sense. Pairing faces with the recommendations had helped cement each Anbu in Sakura's mind so that she could remember them for future reference. Now, if she could just find—a knock on the door dragged her away from the spiraling thoughts. "Come in," she called.
Kazuko pushed the door open and frowned to find Sakura behind her desk. "What are you doing here so late? I thought you'd left your light on."
Mimicking Kazuko's expression, Sakura glanced at her watch. She'd gotten so caught up in preparing the report that she hadn't noticed the hours slip by. "Just doing some paperwork," she shrugged. "What about you?"
"Same," Kazuko nodded toward Sakura's covered desk and laughed. "It looks like I was more successful than you were. Can you even remember what the surface looks like?"
"Vaguely." Sakura tucked the results that she's been reading beneath the keyboard. Kakashi's logic about hiding the Anbu files in plain sight made a lot more sense now that she thought about it. Kazuko had no idea that so much sensitive information was right in front of him. "Pretty sure it looks like the sides."
Kazuko dipped his head in response, a tight smile on his lips. "Have you eaten dinner? I was going to get some after I left, if you wanted to go?"
The offer didn't surprise Sakura, not really. Since the night that Ino tried to force Sakura and Kazuko together, they'd reached a truce. Sakura understood that he didn't want complicated rebound sex. And, while the insinuation that shinobi didn't know how to handle emotions still bothered her, she'd learned to accept that annoyance as a separate thing from Kazuko himself. Their talk at the bar had been the first step to rebuilding the friendship that they'd started years ago.
Sakura and Kazuko still had professional differences, of course, but they were no longer skirting around each other in the hallways. Still, she shook her head. "I'm good. I've got a couple of things to finish up before I'm ready to leave. Thanks, though."
Kazuko smoothed his bag's leather strap against his chest. "I could wait for a bit, if you wanted?"
As amazing as ignoring her current problem in favor of dinner and drinks sounded, Sakura couldn't. This confrontation couldn't be left for another day, and she didn't want Kazuko to get caught in the middle of it. "I don't know how long this is going to take. Maybe next time?"
"Sure, no problem." Kazuko adjusted his glasses with a good natured smile. "I'll let you get back to work, just try to go home before your next shift, okay?"
Laughing, Sakura bobbed her head in agreement. "I'll do my best, doc."
After the door closed behind Kazuko, the smile slid from Sakura's lips. She was thankful that the man hadn't taken her refusal personally. Having a friend who understood the craziness of her job was a godsend. But, he had been right about one thing: there were parts of her life that he would never be able to understand. As Sakura leafed through the report on Anbu, she realized how massive the gulf between shinobi and civilians was; the distance between jonin and Anbu seemed equally unbridgeable.
Shaking her head to dispel the dark thoughts, Sakura triple checked the lines of information scrolling across her screen, then printed the report. A separate sheet of concise recommendations would make it easy to understand. All evening, Sakura had gone back and forth on whether to present the evaluations to Kakashi or Yamato first. On one hand, Kakashi had ordered the test. On the other hand, Yamato presumably knew the shinobi better and would be making the final decisions. She'd already told the latter about Saiyo, but there was more information to unpack.
When Sakura left the office, she wasn't sure which person she should speak to first. Her steps led her past the Hokage's complex, and she wasn't surprised that the rooms were dark by this time of night. Even if Sakura had wanted to talk to Kakashi first, she would have had to wait until the morning. It had seemed logical to take the results to the head of Anbu, but now, standing outside Yamato's apartment, she wondered if she'd made the right decision.
A single window faced the walkway, and the curtains were pulled shut. Only a tiny brush of light along the edge suggested that someone might be inside. It was late enough that Yamato could be sleeping, or doing whatever it was that Anbu did when not on mission. Tapping her fingers along her thigh, Sakura wondered if this would be better for Kakashi to take care of. He'd known Yamato a lot longer than she had. He would know how to phrase the accusations better—something loud happened on the other side of the door, then glass shattered.
Without thinking, Sakura reached for the handle. When it rattled in her grasp, she banged on the panel with a hand instead. Using an ounce more pressure would splinter the wood, so Sakura forced herself to release the tension in her fist. The sudden silence amplified a muffled curse from the opposite side. "Is everything okay in there," she called.
"Go away," came a slurred voice that might have belonged to Yamato. Even if it didn't, as a medic, Sakura was obligated to ensure the other person's wellbeing.
"I need you to open the door so I can make sure you're okay." As Sakura said the words, she drew the power of Head Medic around herself the way she'd seen Tsunade and Kakashi do with the Hokage cloak. If she didn't question her authority, no one else would.
There were more noises from the apartment, further away this time. Sakura frowned and considered her options. It was possible that this wasn't Yamato's home; she'd never been to it after all. However, it sounded like someone had hurt themselves inside, and Sakura couldn't ignore that.
The door opened before Sakura heard the approaching footsteps. The difference in appearance temporarily shorted out her thoughts; Yamato could have been a stranger. Glassy brown eyes peered out of a flushed face, trying and failing to focus on Sakura. The scent of alcohol was unmistakable. A white cloth wrapped around Yamato's right forearm and hand drew Sakura's attention. It was rapidly turning red. "What do you want," he grumbled.
"You're hurt." Sakura focused on the bloody cloth rather than the man's unkempt appearance. An injury was something that she could fix.
Glass glittered in the dim light of the apartment, littering the floor beside the ruins of a coffee table. Bloody footprints crossed the wood in two places while the liquid puddled beneath Yamato's feet. Sakura didn't think he noticed the sticky dampness. An empty bottle lay on its side next to a jumble of armor. Drawing a deep breath to collect her anger, Sakura swept into the apartment. Yamato opened his mouth to argue, but Sakura raised a hand. "Sit. I'll be with you in a second."
Tossing her bag on the floor, Sakura shut the door behind her. Yamato stumbled toward the couch without seeming to notice the glass underfoot. Judging by the blood on the towel, he'd cut himself more than a few times. "Where do you keep your med kit?"
Yamato gestured over his shoulder without turning. Sakura crossed into the small kitchen and paused to frown at the mess. Discarded takeout boxes stacked inside of each other stood alongside dirty glasses on the counter. Shaking her head, Sakura searched beneath the sink for a med kit. It only made sense that an Anbu would keep one within easy reach. As expected, a black bag waited next to bottles of cleaner.
Carrying the kit back to the living room, Sakura found Yamato on the couch where she'd left him. His eyes were closed, and his head tipped back against the cushions. Blood dripped into his lap. Sakura frowned, watching to make sure that Yamato's breathing was regular. Then, she went back to the kitchen and filled a glass with cold water. Without a trace of guilt, Sakura threw the water into Yamato's face.
Spluttering, Yamato jerked to his feet. He staggered, winced, then pressed a hand to his side. It was then that Sakura noticed the angry red streaks that ran from his shoulder to his wrist. "What happened," she asked, frown deepening.
"Why are you making so much noise," someone called from deeper in the apartment. While Sakura didn't recognize the sleep slurred voice, the woman that stepped into the hallway was unmistakable. Saiyo's tangled green hair fell across one eye as she raked her fingers through it. An oversized jonin shirt hung off the girl's shoulder, and bare legs peeked beneath it. She blinked at the light, eyes unfocused until they landed on Sakura.
Yamato waved a hand in the woman's direction. "'s nothing. Go back to bed."
Sakura stared between the pair, trying to keep her lips sealed so that her jaw wouldn't hit the floor. The scene that she'd walked into felt like something out of a nightmare, everything was the opposite of what it should be. She couldn't have imagined a scenario that felt more out of character for Yamato if she'd tried.
Ignoring Yamato's words, Saiyo crossed the room to survey the damage. Her eyes slid from the broken bits of coffee table to the bloody cloth around his hand. Then, her gaze rose to Sakura with a challenge. "What's this, then?"
"Saiyo," Yamato warned. His voice brought the woman up short. "Go to bed, and let me handle this."
Sniffing in disapproval, Saiyo glared at Sakura from behind the couch. She waited for half a moment to see if Yamato would change his mind, then stalked from the room. Saiyo slammed the door between them, but she didn't reappear. Sakura watched the exchange with a feeling of being outside her body, wrapped in a cocoon of numbness. When her eyes found Yamato's, she expected embarrassment or shame, not anger.
"What are you doing here?" The man's tone was as sharp for Sakura as it had been for Saiyo. "And, how do you know where my apartment is in the first place?"
"I got the address from your medical file," Sakura began, trying to comprehend everything that had happened since she stepped into the apartment. Her mind made several logical leaps that she didn't like, but she couldn't bring herself to address them with Yamato, not yet. "I heard a noise and thought you might be hurt. I was right."
Seeming to hear the words for the first time, Yamato glanced down at his hand and shrugged. "It's nothing."
"May I look?" For a minute, Sakura thought that Yamato would refuse. Then, he sat back down on the edge of the couch and offered a halfhearted shrug. She had the distinct impression that he was humoring her so that she'd go away sooner rather than later.
Sitting down beside Yamato, Sakura unwrapped the blood damp towel. Dozens of free bleeding cuts criss-crossed the man's hand and forearm. Turning his palm up in her lap, Sakura studied the skin, then pulled a pair of tweezers from the med kit. While Sakura picked glass from the cuts, Yamato looked everywhere except her face. She kept quiet, not sure if she was disappointed or relieved that they weren't talking about any of the things that they needed to.
Once she removed the glass, Sakura folded a clean cloth in her lap and dumped antiseptic over the wounds. Yamato hissed and tried to pull away, but Sakura silenced him with an annoyed click of her tongue. The alcohol had made the bleeding worse, but it was starting to slow now. Satisfied that none of the cuts needed stitches, Sakura turned her attention to Yamato's feet.
Sakura knelt, lifting each foot so that she could repeat the procedure. She debated leaving the wounds as a reminder that Yamato shouldn't drink so much, but decided to heal his feet so that he'd be able to walk. The hand could heal naturally as far as she was concerned. Brushing against Yamato's chakra almost made Sakura recoil; the chaotic energy sparked in every direction, making it hard to focus.
After a minute, the soles of Yamato's feet knit back together into seamless skin. Sakura pulled back and wiped her hands over her pants like she could remove the taint of his chakra from her fingers. Opening the bag beside her, Sakura pulled out clean, white gauze and used that to wrap Yamato's hand. She tied it off on his forearm and tucked the instruments away.
Zipping up the med kit, Sakura carried it and the broken glass back to the kitchen. She wasn't ready to face Yamato yet, so she turned toward the wreckage of the table. Sitting the wooden frame upright, she began to pick up the larger pieces of glass. It looked like Yamato had fallen and put his hand out to catch himself, finding the table instead of the ground. He'd probably tripped over the armor scattered on the floor. At least, that was her assumption; Sakura was too angry to ask.
"You're going to cut your hands," came a gruff complaint from Sakura's left. Yamato knelt next to her, leaning dangerously to the side as he reached for pieces of glass.
Anger flared to life a second time, and Sakura shoved Yamato back. "And, you're too drunk to help. I already healed you once; I'm not going to do it again."
Grunting an agreement, Yamato toppled into a sitting position with his back against the couch. Sakura worked in silence, picking up the glass that she could see and throwing it into a bag that she'd brought from the kitchen. Sakura hadn't come here to lecture Yamato about drinking. Hell, an hour ago, she would have been surprised to learn that he did. The man that she'd seen tonight was nothing like the one that Sakura thought she knew.
Sakura continued her methodical cleaning process, letting her mind whirl as she worked. On her second trip to the kitchen with glass, Yamato stumbled to his feet and reached for her. He missed by a foot, catching himself on the arm of the couch. "Why are you here," he grumbled, rubbing a hand over his face. Sakura thought that she might see a flush of embarrassment on his cheeks, but the alcohol's influence made it difficult to tell.
Glancing at her bag, Sakura wondered how to explain. Yamato was too drunk to go over the details that she wanted to explore, and she didn't want Saiyo to overhear. Even so, the man deserved some kind of explanation as to why she'd shown up at his door. Sakura sighed and shrugged. "I got the results of your blood screening today."
Yamato's lips pinched into a thin line as he sat down on the arm of the couch. "I am not having this conversation with you."
"That's fine," Sakura answered, dusting her hands together and deciding that she'd gotten up as much glass as she could. "I'll take the results to Kakashi in the morning."
The scoff that left Yamato's throat surprised Sakura. She'd thought that the warning would make him cooperate, but he treated it as insignificant. "Every shinobi drinks. Do you honestly think Kakashi is any different? Where do you think the alcohol came from in the first place?"
"Most shinobi drink," Sakura agreed, rounding on Yamato so quickly that the room spun around her. "But, they don't get blackout drunk. They don't chase stimulants with a downer. If you don't give me a damn good reason for why you're trying to kill yourself, you aren't going to have a job to go back to in the morning."
Yamato chuckled, a sound eerily devoid of emotion. "You never give up, do you?"
"I can't let this go, not now." Sakura gestured around the apartment. "You're displaying every warning sign in the book. Not to mention that your decision making skills are clearly compromised."
As much as Sakura tried to avoid it, her eyes drifted back to the door where Saiyo had disappeared. She suspected that Kakashi would have a few choice things to say about that relationship if nothing else. It took Yamato a few seconds to catch up with the implications of the words. When he did, he laughed. "Go home, Sakura. I'm fine."
Yamato's eyelids had grown heavy the longer their conversation went. Sakura would be surprised if he was awake ten minutes from now as his body caught up with the alcohol he'd ingested. She shook her head. "You have until five o'clock tomorrow to come up with an explanation, then I'm going to Kakashi."
Yamato slurred a response that Sakura didn't catch, but she was too angry to care. Collecting her bag from the floor, she crossed the room. Of all the outcomes that she'd imagined for this night, none had come close to reality. Yamato was a loose cannon, and possibly a danger to himself and those around him. She couldn't allow him to continue the way he was
As Sakura stepped into the night, she sighed and stared up at the cloud filled sky. The inner voice that she hadn't listened to in years taunted her. She should have ignored her instinct and waited to speak with Kakashi in the morning. Now, she had no idea what to tell him.