Chapter 6: Open Wound
They put her on mandatory leave and barred her from working in the hospital's emergency department. They never said she couldn't work in the hospital archives, though.
Sakura took up residence in a private room on the library's upper level. She sat cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by notes, dusty manila folders, and half-opened texts. She fiddled absently with a pen, her focus occupied by the oversized cork-board on the opposing wall. Over the last week, she'd filled it from top to bottom with neat categories of color-coded notes. It took sorting through twenty years of medical records to compile it.
From her previous studies, she knew that the pathology field had advanced over the years. She saw the proof of it in the coroners' notes: autopsy reports had evolved in meticulous detail and comprehensive length. The standard hospital forms had barely changed at all, though. A death certificate was a death certificate. Whether it was issued from before she was born or signed by her own hand, it looked nearly the same.
The section for the Cause of Death had four short lines, vertically stacked and labeled 1, 2, 3, and 4. The immediate cause was to be listed first: the final disease or condition that resulted in death. Rupture of myocardium, inter-cerebral hemorrhage, or the like.
The other lines were meant to identify what, if any, conditions led to the cause of death. "Due to, or from the consequence of" was written in fine print beneath each line, making sure the examiner clarified every condition as it occurred in proper sequential order. Acute myocardial infarction, from the consequence of coronary artery thrombosis. Line by line, cause and effect, what happened in the body to kill a person.
It was only the last line Sakura paid attention to, though. The final line was where the medical examiner wrote down the underlying cause: the disease or injury that initiated the events that resulted in death. No one died without a reason. There was always one reason at the root of any injury or illness.
Two decades, thousands of patients. Sakura read through all of them. After coding and categorizing every underlying cause, she couldn't find what she was searching for. After several days of surviving on soldier pills and stale tea to read through every death certificate, she still didn't understand.
Sakura rolled the pen up and down her thigh, frustrated. From the corner of her eye, she spotted a row of two-dimensional appearing ants crawling out of the room's cracked window. Tiny creatures, but unmistakable in their black-and-white artistry. When Sai arrived at the window's ledge a few moments later, she was expecting him.
"What are you doing, spying on me?" Sakura called out, too tired to stand up and accost him properly.
He maneuvered the rest of the window open and climbed in. "No. I was searching for you, not spying on you."
She folded her arms over her chest. "Are you sure you know the difference?"
"Of course I do," Sai answered. "I read it in a book."
"Well, in that case," Sakura muttered under her breath.
Sai remained standing as he looked at the notes and files surrounding her, then the sign of her handiwork on the busy wall.
"Am I allowed to ask?" Sai inquired.
"Nope."
"Alright then."
Sakura reluctantly uncrossed her arms. "Why were you searching for me?"
After a moment of deliberation, Sai took a seat across from her. He folded his legs like hers, studying and then mimicking her casually crossed position.
"Well, I planned to be polite and ask about you first, but seeing as I'm not allowed to make an inquiry that's relevant to your current mood," Sai explained, nodding toward her wall of notes. "Then I suppose I'll get right to it."
"Okay," Sakura said slowly, brows lifted. At least he's respecting my privacy.
Sai hummed, uncertain. He put both hands on his knees, then tapped on them. "Well, you see, I wondered if you knew when Ino would be returning to Konoha. If she'd be back in time for the ceremony."
Sakura had been in her own world of dust and paper mites. Only in that moment did she realize she'd been disconnected from the reality happening around her.
"What ceremony?" she asked.
"The ceremony for New Year's Day."
When Sakura only frowned uncertainly, Sai tilted his head. "You didn't hear? Aren't you the Hokage's apprentice?"
"No, Sai, I'm a bearded lady in a travelling circus."
He straightened up, concerned. Just as quickly, he settled back down. "That was sarcasm?"
"Yes."
"Oh. Right."
"What ceremony?" Sakura asked again. "I've been busy here. I actually haven't seen Tsunade-sama for a few days."
"Or Kakashi?" Sai asked curiously. She could almost hear the implications aloud. And if not Kakashi, then not Sasuke?
"Sai," Sakura began, threading the threat into her tone. "Tell me what you're talking about with this ceremony, or else I won't tell you what I've heard from Ino."
"Right." Sai perked up immediately. "The Hokage made an announcement, alongside Kakashi and Naruto. There will be a memorial event on New Year's Day to commemorate Pain's attack on the village. Something about starting off the year in gratitude and the importance of moving on together."
There it was again. Moving on. Sakura heard those words and felt them slither down her spine as if they were slippery, legless leeches.
"Naruto is rather excited, as you can imagine. He's helping Kakashi write his speech. I assume it's practice for them both as far as their political futures go."
An uninvited flash of spite seared through her, pure annoyance and irrational anger. How in the world could Naruto find this something to be excited about? And was he so busy writing speeches and hanging out with Sasuke, he couldn't spare a moment to spend with her? Even though she knew it shouldn't, it stung.
Before Sai could read it off her face, she changed the subject.
"I heard from Ino last week. She's still out of town with her aunt and uncle. She said she'd be back when she was ready to help rebuild her dad's flower shop."
Sakura left out the other half of her letter. That Ino wasn't sure how or when she was supposed to be ready for something like that.
Sai looked disappointed.
"Why do you ask?" Sakura added, then wiggled her brows suggestively.
"No reason, Ugly."
Sakura growled. "You have to stop calling me that."
"Why?" He drawled insincerely, not for the first time, and then stood up. "Well then. I'll leave you to your- ... project."
He spared another glance to her wall, then looked down to her. She thought he was about to say goodbye, but she could see how his concern lingered.
"I'll let you know when I hear from Ino," Sakura promised. "If you want, I'll even tell her you said you're thinking about her and can't wait to see her."
"I didn't say that, though."
"You didn't have to."
He hummed, thoughtful. "Well, if you think that will help me in my romantic pursuit of her, I suppose you can write that. You may also write how she is so beautiful to look upon in person, I can no longer stand to draw her face from memory alone."
Sakura's brows jumped to the ceiling. She struggled to form a follow-up response, but he was already walking back toward the window. She shook her head instead, a tiny smile stuck on her lips.
Sai was about to hop out the window, and she was ready to start paying attention to her wall of notes again, when Sakura remembered it was Thursday.
"Hey, Sai," she called out.
He turned back around to face her. "Yes?"
"We're supposed to have a dinner tomorrow night with Sasuke. You know, the publicity stunt requirement for his probation. Do you want to come?"
He stared at her, his ordinarily blank features wide with unfiltered surprise. "You want me to go?"
She felt it like a punch to the gut. After everything he'd done, after all that he'd proven to be a member of their team, dysfunctional and complicated as they might be, Sai still didn't feel like he belonged? They just defeated the Akatsuki together. They just survived a war together.
Besides, she knew how it felt to be on the outside. To feel unwanted. She hated the thought of being the reason another person felt the same way.
"Of course I do," Sakura promised.
Sai considered, his surprise melting into a quiet admission of gratitude.
"I appreciate you asking. I do plan on befriending the traitor, after all. The books say I need to establish trust first, though. It would be inappropriate for me to skip ahead to the stage that includes intimate dinners."
Sakura smiled weakly. Kami, maybe I should borrow that book.
"I'd start by choosing a different nickname for him," she advised.
Sai hummed. "I'll be sure to consider your suggestion."
Sakura stared at him. "Sarcasm?"
"Yes," he answered, pleased. "See, I told you that chapter in 'Mastering the Art of Casual Conversation' wouldn't cause me trouble."
"Oh, not yet," Sakura said in sing-song, returning to her notes.
"Good luck with your dinner, Ugly." He leapt out the window before she could retaliate.
Sakura rolled the pen across her knee. Luck? She would need it.
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Winter returned to Konohagakure the way Sasuke remembered it. Sun-drenched skies, but mild temperatures and clean, crisp air. In the Land of Fire, it was too warm for a real cold season to settle in. Since he spent most of his evenings on Kakashi's roof, he found no reason to complain.
The building wasn't tall enough for him to see the Uchiha Compound from a vantage point, but he looked toward it's general direction. Years had passed since he'd been there. Everything would be dirty and dust-covered, claimed by weeds and pests, possibly even ruined beyond repair. Neglect could do that. Day by day, year to year, neglect could kill.
Like every other day that week, Naruto showed up right before sundown. Sasuke saw him from a kilometer out as he sauntered down the street, greeting every neighbor and whistling as he went. It was a far cry from his days of pulling pranks on grouchy villagers and running away after them.
Naruto approached from below. He brought a hand to his brow to avoid the sun's low-lying glare and squinted up at Sasuke's spot on the roof.
"What, is this your new thing?" Naruto asked. "Just gonna sit on the roof and twiddle your thumbs?"
Sasuke ignored the taunt with a terse reminder. "I have nothing else to do."
Nothing else he was allowed to do.
"Yeah, I know." Naruto leapt onto the roof and took a seat beside him. "I was thinking about that. How are you even going to make it through the year? I'd go crazy."
Leave it to the dobe to forgo tact.
Naruto looked at him, expecting a response.
"Exercise," Sasuke said. As much as he could on his own and without chakra, at least. He thought of the abandoned Uchiha Compound and graveyard. "Clean. Renovate."
Naruto scrunched up his nose.
Sasuke sighed, thinking of Kakashi's piles of books. "Read, I suppose."
"Gross." Then his blue eyes flashed, remembering something. "I have a book for you to read. I'll bring it over tomorrow."
Sasuke waited for the punch line; probably something to do with Kakashi's own preferred genre.
Naruto remained sincere, though.
"It's called 'The Tales of a Gutsy Ninja.' Written by a famous author, too." He smiled fondly at some sort of private joke.
Sasuke remained unconvinced. "The Gutsy Ninja," he repeated dryly.
"Yeah, bastard. Naruto: The Gutsy Ninja. I found out it's who my parents named me after. The character was – well, he was based on a real kid actually. A kid like us. An orphan."
Sasuke gradually realized he was serious. It was a foreign feeling, sitting side by side with Naruto, not fighting or bickering or glaring at each other, but talking. Talking about something real.
Over the last week, there was a growing number of moments like this one— glimpses into just how much Naruto had changed. Sasuke found himself searching for the evidence, even studying it. How did the juvenile brat infamous for terrorizing their village evolve into the respected hero who saved it?
He told himself the answer didn't matter.
He remembered the crescent moon once gifted onto his left hand and knew that it did.
Sasuke sighed. "And what happened to him?"
Naruto looked away for a full minute. The longer he stared into the descending sun, quiet and pensive, the tighter a knot in Sasuke's stomach tied itself. There was no reason to be invested in Naruto's response, but he found himself waiting impatiently.
"He died," Naruto finally answered. He was right there on the roof, but he sounded miles away. "He died in order to save a lot of people."
Sasuke could only stare at Naruto, studying him, attempting to riddle him out.
Then Naruto swung back around, grinning impishly. "Oh, you know what? My bad. Thumb."
Sasuke paused. "What?"
Naruto lifted his only hand, put it eye-level to Sasuke's face, and wiggled his thumb. "Thumb, not thumbs. That's your new thing. Twiddling your thumb."
Sasuke blinked once. Twice. Then a string of near-silent swear words left him in a single breath.
Naruto laughed, as loud as he was proud, and the sound of his joy echoed all around them.
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The next evening, at the same time and in the same place, Sasuke waited on the rooftop. Counter to Naruto's proclamation, Sasuke refused to twiddle his thumb. He did, however, practice with it. Losing his left hand meant he needed additional strength, and more importantly, complete dexterity in his right. He kept a rope propped up on his knee and practiced tying it into knots.
"Yo." Kakashi called from below, then leapt to join him on the roof. "Let's get going. We don't want to be late."
Mischief gleamed in Kakashi's gray eyes, but Sasuke only blinked at him. If the sun's sunken position in the sky said anything, they already would be.
"Right." His sarcasm was a dull, obvious thing.
Sasuke pocketed his knotted rope. They ran on rooftops toward the inner village. From what Sasuke observed on quick trips for groceries or brief stops at tea cafés, it was only the area surrounding the Hokage Tower and inner streets of the village that had been fully repaired so far.
The damage to Konoha was vast. The totality of destruction was difficult for Sasuke to grasp. There was so much missing. There was so much gone.
He'd been wide-eyed the first time he heard what Pain did; he was just as shocked to see the reality of it for himself. If Kakashi hadn't assured him that the Uchiha Compound was still intact, Sasuke would never have believed it. It was a wonder anything survived Pain's Assault. It was a miracle anyone had.
"You won't believe me if I tell you how," Kakashi told him about their survival.
"Try me," Sasuke had challenged, unimpressed.
Kakashi was right, though. Sasuke didn't believe him. He didn't know how to.
There were only a few restaurants that were open. Though Kakashi said he picked one that wouldn't be as busy as the others, it hardly mattered. They were all bustling with villagers, civilians and shinobi alike.
Anyone who noticed Sasuke with Kakashi abruptly gave them a wide berth. What they muttered and what glares they sent, Sasuke easily ignored.
They made their way to the back of a Yakitori restaurant, the scent of grill smoke thick in the air. String lights in the shape of white and gold paper lanterns provided the primary source of lighting, giving all patrons an element of privacy. Still, Kakashi led them to a table in the back.
"Here we are," Kakashi declared, sliding into a booth and tossing Sasuke a menu. "Our first of many mandatory dinners in the purview of the public. Now, make sure to smile, wave, and otherwise appear pleasant and harmless."
Sasuke grabbed the menu, dark eyes anything but pleasant.
"Ah yes," Kakashi murmured in delight. "This is sure to be successful."
Naruto came rushing through the crowded restaurant soon after, a grin permanently plastered on his whiskered face.
"Hey, hey you guys!" He called out from a distance.
Sasuke elected not to shout back.
"Naruto," Kakashi said in greeting. He moved to the end of the booth and gestured at the open seat beside him. "Seeing as you're left-handed now."
"Huh." Naruto plopped down in the booth, eyeing Kakashi on his right. "You know, I never thought about it like that. Guess I am!"
He turned his attention to Sasuke. "Hey, bastard."
Sasuke blinked. Pleasant and harmless rung hollow in his ears. "Naruto."
Naruto looked over at the empty seat. "Where's Sakura-chan?"
"She sent a message that she'll be late," Kakashi answered.
Sasuke hadn't noticed that.
"Let me guess," Naruto began, then plucked the menu out of Sasuke's unsuspecting hand. "She's in surgery?"
"She's not in surgery," Kakashi said. "But yes, she's performing surgery."
Sasuke, with all of the maturity of a seventeen year old shinobi who just helped to save the world, immediately yanked the menu back.
"Get your own, dobe."
Naruto stuck his tongue out in response.
"Oh, before I forget," Naruto said, changing direction. He reached inside the inner pocket of his orange-and-black jumpsuit and pulled out a book.
"'The Tales of a Gutsy Ninja.'" Naruto handed Sasuke the book. "My name- my uh. Hmmm- what's it called when you're named after something?"
"Namesake," Kakashi provided. He peered at the book in Sasuke's hand.
"Namesake!" Naruto nodded enthusiastically. "That's my namesake."
Sasuke read the characters of the title on the front cover. He recently practiced leveraging a book open with one hand; he did it now, cradling the book into his palm and flicking the cover page over with his thumb.
The first page hosted a short summary that introduced Musasabi Naruto as the protagonist. Beneath it, Naruto had scrawled down a note.
Sasuke snapped the book to a close. "You're not supposed to write in books."
Naruto started to grumble in response, but a hesitant server came by with an additional menu and introduced himself.
The current seals on Sasuke's chakra couldn't replace the years he had with his Sharingan. He was still trained to observe and analyze, to notice every micro-movement and read a person's body language down to the letter. The server was reasonably nervous, but not hostile.
They ordered their drinks, and Kakashi put in water and hot tea for Sakura. Sasuke didn't look at the empty seat beside him. He was already aware of her absence. The irony of it. If Uchiha Sasuke wanted to kill me, I'd be dead. But I'm not. I'm right here.
She wasn't here, though. She'd been anywhere but here since he was released on probation. He knew she told the jurors and Elders the truth, but something as complicated as the truth wasn't just a simple, one-sided sentiment. He'd learned that with visual jutsu, in making and remaking realities. He learned that from his brother. Truth was a living, breathing organism. It was three-dimensional. It was layered.
It was true she wasn't dead. It was true she was here.
But it was also true that she was not right here beside him in this booth. It might also be true that something else had died that day on the bridge.
Kakashi and Naruto began a conversation, something about an upcoming ceremony on New Year's Day, but Sasuke only gave it half his attention.
All those times he spouted on to Naruto about severed bonds, he'd done it with the clean, precise cut of his katana. A swift and immediate separation. Naruto never cared, though. With the same resilience in losing a limb, he kept on. Naruto made sure to stitch the two of them back together; two halves the dobe always knew how to assemble into one again.
What happened between him and Sakura had never been a clean cut. It was a dull blade with a jagged end, trying and failing to saw through. The night he left for Otogakure, when she begged for him to stay, he couldn't leave without getting closer to her first. He should have rejected her completely. He should have only spoken with a sense of finality. Instead, he thanked her. He held her. He hesitated before he set her on that bench.
The day on the Samurai Bridge, after all the rage and grief had rubbed him raw, seeing her again, hearing her again: it was the same vicious temptation to give in. To go toward her. To have his fury, anguish and vengeance, and have her too, the only one who could quell it.
He was the most powerful he'd ever been. Killing Danzō proved it. And he was the weakest he'd ever been, the truth about his brother constantly shredding through him, promising at any second to tear him apart. He'd never wanted her more.
The only weapon he had against her, against himself, was to give her an ultimatum that would turn her away on her own. She would do anything for him, but she wouldn't kill for him.
It was just another grisly cut from the blunt edge of a serrated knife. She had to know he would never take her with him, even if some small part of her still wanted him to. He knew she would never actually go with him, even if all of him wanted her to.
After everything that happened in the last year, and after everything she said in his trial, he wasn't sure what state that left them in. He'd seen enough medical ninjutsu to know it took more than a few stitches to heal an open wound.
"Eh, what do you think we should order for Sakura-chan?" Naruto asked, interrupting his tail-spinning thoughts.
"What does she usually get?" Kakashi suggested, unable to help.
Naruto frowned at the menu options. "Eh, I have no idea. The last few times we went out, it was for ramen."
Lately, Sasuke's memories had a life of their own. Maybe it was the grill smoke that triggered this one. An old, forgotten scene played out in Sasuke's mind like it was a dream from just last night.
They were in the same restaurant, before it needed to be rebuilt, under the same paper lantern lights. Naruto was across from him, just like he was now, and Sakura sat beside him, like she should've been tonight. She leaned all the way across the table, dangling a leek expertly between her chopsticks. She was shoving it toward Naruto's face, determined. Come on, Naruto, she teased. It's delicious. Just try it. He scrunched up his nose and shoved her arms away. No, no, get it away from me. Sakura laughed, then plopped back down into her own seat. Your loss, she told Naruto, still grinning as she ate the leek for herself. I doubt it, Naruto huffed, warily eyeing the rest of her bamboo skewer.
Sasuke scanned the menu until he found it. Torinegi.
"Oi, Sakura-chan," Naruto hollered, jumping up from his seat. "You're just in time."
Sasuke looked up from the menu. In that moment, he realized he'd been certain she wouldn't show.
Sakura walked toward them, smiling shyly and holding her bag protectively against her side. She must have just showered. Her hair was still wet, resting in loose waves on top of her shoulders. She wore Konoha's standard navy blue instead of her usual red. Her Yin Seal winked under the paper lantern lights. The rest of her looked as if she'd been drained of color.
The photograph of their old team sat on his night stand, demanding his attention more times then he cared to count. The Sakura then, and the Sakura walking toward him now, couldn't have looked more different. There was something in her careful movements and tired attempt to hold a smile that spoke of exhaustion, even if he couldn't see it on her face.
"In time for what?" Sakura asked as she approached the table.
She looked at the empty seat beside Sasuke, then up to him. He caught the brief flash of nervousness as it flit across her features. She covered it with her tepid smile and sat down, placing her bag between them.
"In time to order," Naruto answered excitedly.
Kakashi started to hand her his menu, but Sakura shook her head in polite refusal. "That's alright, I know what I'm getting."
Her arrival must have prompted the server to return. The older gentleman recognized her and was clearly relieved to have a familiar presence as the buffer between himself and Sasuke.
"Here you go, Sakura." He placed her water and hot tea down first.
"Thank you, Jiro."
After placing down the rest of the drinks, the server pulled out his writing pad and turned to Sakura.
"What will it be, miss?"
Even with the bag between them, she was close. Close enough for Sasuke to catch the scent of lingering disinfectant and cheap, citrus-scented hospital soap.
"I'll have the torinegi, please."
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Out of all of Naruto's quirks she learned to appreciate over the years, his gift as a conversationalist ranked high among them. While they waited for their dinner, he kept up a steady stream of continuous conversation, mostly with foils and frustrations from his last week. There seemed to be endless schemes Konohamaru could inflict upon him.
Sakura kept an eye on their surroundings, subtle with her ongoing surveillance. If Kakashi and Sasuke had followed the Hokage's instructions, this wouldn't have been their first time out in public- but it was her first time among them. She was cognizant of the curious onlookers, some more covert or contentious than others.
She found it necessary to focus outward, rather than in. Sasuke was right beside her, his profile obscured by his midnight blue-black hair. She had a hundred questions to ask him. About his arm, and physical therapy, and his stay at Kakashi's home- about his change of heart at the conclusion of his trial. She didn't know where or how to start, though. Instead, she focused on the prickling sensation at the base of her neck. Someone in the near vicinity was paying them special attention.
Their dinner arrived, a collection of grilled meats and vegetables on bamboo skewers. Sakura used the opportunity to discretely glance behind her shoulder.
"Thank you, Jiro," Sakura said, turning to face the server.
She studied a group of chūnin seated three booths behind theirs. They hid their scowls unsuccessfully while watching Jiro deliver Sasuke's plate. One of them, a boy she didn't know but recognized from graduating the academy a year after Team Seven, had a chakra signature that was pulsing darkly.
Sakura pushed strands of half-wet hair behind her ear and turned back to the table. Her shoulders remained tense as she kept on guard for any unwelcome intrusions.
"Don't worry, Sakura," Kakashi murmured after Jiro left, casual as he reached for his glass of water. "I've kept my eye on him."
Naruto straightened. "Who? Where?"
"Hn." Sasuke picked up one of his skewers, unconcerned. "The idiot kid three tables back."
Sakura turned to him, surprised. "How did you see him?"
He was closed into the booth, the wall on one side and her on the other. She would have noticed if he'd done something as obvious as turning his head to look behind them.
Instead of answering, Sasuke reached for her teaspoon that lay between their place settings. He lifted it partially upward and angled it carefully; in the reflection of the silver spoon, Sakura saw the chūnin in question. Only in retrospect did she even remember Sasuke picked up the utensil a few moments prior.
Naruto, not bothering to be stealth, craned his neck to see over the booths. "Well, someone should tell 'em it's rude to stare."
The look on his whiskered face said it wasn't staring he had in mind as retribution.
"Leave it be, Naruto," Kakashi instructed. "We don't want to be the ones to invite an altercation."
"You heard Tsunade-sama," Sakura reminded him. Though she hadn't been in attendance, she saw her mentor at the hospital the next day and asked for specific details on what she had missed. "The reason we're here is to keep up an appearance."
Sasuke's grip tightened on her teaspoon, but Sakura didn't think to question it.
"Yeah, yeah," Naruto grumbled. He picked up one of his own skewers, still watching out for the chūnin. "I heard her. A spotless record."
Sakura picked up a skewer. "A spotless fucking record, I believe she said."
Naruto choked on the bite he'd just taken. "Sakura-chan!"
"What?" Sakura laughed weakly. She removed the first chunk of chicken thigh and watched it slide down to her small plate, painfully aware of Sasuke so close in her peripheral. "That's what she said, isn't it?"
"It is," Kakashi agreed cheekily.
With the finesse of lifelong practice, he managed to take a few bites without revealing the masked half of his face.
"She also said no training," Naruto sighed. "Which isn't fair. I was looking forward to sparring together. Why should I be punished too?"
Sakura pushed a leek off her skewer. "She didn't say you guys couldn't train together."
"Uh, yes she did." Naruto peered at her curiously. "No training, no aggression, and no fighting with me. Remember?"
Sakura looked up. The table was staring at her. She felt Sasuke's eyes on her most of all.
"Well, no," Sakura continued. "She told me that you were not to be seen training."
Kakashi lifted a brow. Naruto stared at her, mouth hanging open. She couldn't see Sasuke's reaction.
"I- I heard that right, didn't I, Kaka-sensei?" Sakura asked self-consciously, even though she knew she wasn't wrong.
He nodded slowly. "You did hear right. She said for Sasuke not to be seen training, not to be seen as aggressive."
Sasuke let out a little breath of triumph. He lifted his chin, facing Naruto. "She said not to fight you- in public."
"In public," Naruto repeated, blinking rapidly. Gradually, he began to understand. "So wait! We can train, as long as we're not seen doing it? We can fight?"
Used to seeking affirmation from Kakashi as their teacher, both Naruto and Sasuke looked at him.
"Well," he considered. "I suppose you can."
Naruto punched a fist into the air. "Yes!"
He just as quickly turned back to Sakura, grinning. "You're a genius, Sakura-chan."
Old habits died hard. It was Naruto who spoke to her, but she couldn't help but look over to gauge Sasuke's reaction.
He was smirking. A subtle, satisfied smirk curved his mouth upward, the closest thing to a smile she'd seen on him in years.
Sakura forgot how to breathe.
An old mantra pulsed in her thoughts while she struggled for air. She shouldn't have looked. She shouldn't have cared. She needed to stop looking. She needed to stop caring.
Sakura pushed another leek off her bamboo skewer, lost under waves of euphoria at being the reason he nearly smiled, drowning in the familiar despair of failing to fall out of love with Uchiha Sasuke.
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