"The headaches are getting worse."
Sakura looked up from the food she was pushing around her plate. Her daughter was sitting across from her, dark eyes narrowed. Kami, she looked so much like her father when she did that.
"It's not that bad," Sakura smiled, even as a twinge of pain turned that smile to a grimace.
"Clearly, it is." Sarada crossed her arms. "There's no point denying it so you may as well tell me."
"Who's the parent here, me or you?" Sakura joked weakly, but in truth, the headaches were starting to scare her. She relented. "They've been pretty bad these last few days. Nothing I do seems to help them."
"You work too hard, Mama," Sarada reached across the table to give Sakura's wrist a squeeze. "I worry about you when I'm away. Last time you got headaches like this, you kept fainting."
Thinking about those fainting spells only made her feel worse. "But then the headaches went away, remember?"
"When Papa came home." Sarada chewed her bottom lip. "Do you want Papa to come home again?"
Sakura hesitated. On the one hand, every year she spent alone felt like a layer of frost settling over her heart. But on the other hand, her husband's cold demeanour had done nothing to thaw that frost. She never felt lonelier than when he was home.
But she couldn't tell her daughter that. "Papa's return had nothing to do with my headaches going away," she said instead. "They just went away on their own, and they will again."
Sarada didn't seem convinced. She stared at her plate for a few moments, before looking up again. "Should I stay home more?" she asked.
Sakura actually laughed. "Sweetheart, you're a genin now. You have to leave on away-missions sometimes, and even though I miss you and worry about you when you do, I wouldn't ever want to hold you back. Children are meant to grow up and become more independent." She grinned. "Besides, when you're away I get to eat all the dessert myself."
Sarada rolled her eyes; a habit she had picked up from Boruto, no doubt. "Your jokes don't fool me, Mama. I can tell you aren't as happy as you could be."
Her pink bob bounced from side to side as Sakura shook her head. "I'm plenty happy, sweetheart. I get to watch you grow up and start your career as a kunoichi. My own genin days were some of the best of my life, you know." As she said it, she realised it was true. Team 7 had all been together then, but more importantly, Sakura felt like she was working toward something bigger, some yet-unrealised version of herself.
"You were happy when you were a genin?" Sarada repeated. Her tenacity was usually cute, but Sakura was starting to feel interrogated. Her head throbbed.
"Well, yes," Sakura shrugged. "But like I said, I'm also happy now, with my cute daughter and my career and friends."
Sarada seemed to consider this. After a few moments, she returned to her meal. "Are you training with Sensei this weekend?" she asked.
"Mhmm," Sakura hummed. "He's coming over tomorrow."
"That's good," Sarada said, with her characteristic seriousness. "He's good company for you while I'm away."
"You think so?" Sakura rested her chin in her hand, smiling at Sarada from across the table. "Well, thank you for looking out for me. I'll tell Sensei you said hello."
The next morning, Sarada left on her two-week mission. Sakura packed her a boxed lunch and kissed her goodbye, and it was only when her daughter was completely out of sight that she finally allowed herself to collapse.
She sank to the ground at the edge of her front garden, clinging to the gate for support. The pain in her head was overpowering, driving out every other thought until all she could do was squeeze her eyes shut and hope it would pass quickly.
"Sakura? Are you alright?"
She opened her eyes. "Kakashi?"
Kakashi was standing on the other side of the gate, leaning over to check on her. "Are you alright?" He repeated, half-extending a hand to her.
"Just a little headache." She tried to stand, but the pain forced her back down with a groan.
In a single movement, Kakashi had jumped the low fence and was crouching beside her, hand on her arm. "Easy, Sakura."
"It'll go away soon," she gasped. And then, as if by magic, the tension in her head began to ease. A few more seconds and the pain had left entirely.
"Do you feel better?" Kakashi's brows were creased. It was unusual that anyone other than Sarada should worry about her health these days, considering her reputation as the world's greatest medic. It was endearing, seeing her old sensei worry. "We could put off training if you need?"
"Seriously Kakashi, I'm fine." She rose to her feet, Kakashi removing his hand when it was clear she didn't require assistance. "Never been better."
Kakashi scratched his chin. "Actually, I wonder about that."
Sakura blinked. "Huh?"
"Never been better,'" he repeated. "Are you sure you haven't lost your edge?" His tone was innocent, but his eyes were filled with a mischief that Sakura had learned to be wary of. "I seem to remember beating you pretty soundly last session, after all."
"Because you cheated!" Sakura protested, but she couldn't hide the grin from her face. "Regardless, it won't happen again. Prepare to go down, old man."
The sparring session was brutal. Kakashi didn't hold back on her, and even after several years of retirement the man was a formidable shinobi. He came at her with a ruthless intensity that told Sakura he was taking her seriously. This was a fight between two S-rank jounin, the kind of fight that showcased the raw and very deadly power of ninjutsu.
Sakura loved every second of it.
It was all she could do to avoid getting hit at first, using all her energy to avoid Kakashi's flurry of blows.
"Is this for the old man comment?" she asked, reeling back from a punch to her solar plexus. Kakashi just smiled and curled his fingers in a 'come at me' gesture.
She feinted to his left, but Kakashi countered easily and went for a savage kick to her abdomen. That was what Sakura had been waiting for. Rather than dodge or deflect the blow, she took it full-force.
The impact took her breath away, but in that moment Kakashi was open, and she landed a punch to his jaw that sent him flying.
"Very nice," he commented, rubbing his chin. As ever, a compliment from her former teacher (and former Hokage, for that matter) made Sakura want to cheer, but she simply smiled and curled her fingers toward him.
"Come at me."
By the end of the bout, Sakura could barely move. She lay on the grass, staring up at the light filtering through the forest canopy, waiting for the rush of endorphins to subside. She could hear Kakashi's own laboured breathing somewhere to her left.
She grinned. "Tough enough for you?"
Kakashi laughed, an exhausted little huff of noise. "I knew I could count on you to give me a real challenge." A pause, then: "same time tomorrow?"
They met every day that week, Kakashi turning up on Sakura's doorstep at whatever hour seemed to suit him best. Sakura never minded; work had mercifully reduced her hours, and Kami knew she had precious little else to do while Sarada was away. The pair would train for a few hours, sometimes sparring, but mostly just exercising together. Sakura had never really worked out with a partner before Kakashi, where the relationship was equal instead of mentor-student. She had assumed it would be distracting, but if anything the man's presence improved her focus.
One day it rained, and Sakura resigned herself to a day spent alone. When she did hear the tell-tale knock at her door, she practically sprinted to answer it.
"Yo," Kakashi waved from underneath a dark blue umbrella. "I figured just because it's a terrible day for training doesn't mean that we can't still spend time together." Even with the umbrella, his clothes were soaked. He had forgone his usual flak vest, and his dark shirt clung to his chest like a second skin. Nobody would have guessed the man was forty-six, with abs like that.
Sakura realised she was staring, and jumped back from the door with an embarrassed laugh. "Sorry! Please, come inside. I'll find you a towel."
Sakura read one of her old medical textbooks. She had memorised it back in her chuunin days, but for some reason it was the book she always found herself returning to. Kakashi, as usual, read one of his Icha Icha novels.
Sakura eyed the orange cover. "That one's Paradise, right?"
"Mhm," Kakashi turned a page.
If she had been younger, she might have been embarrassed to ask even that much. As it was, she was a married woman. But despite (or perhaps because of) her marital status, she had begun to feel...restless. It was strange to think of Kakashi as a potential subject of that 'restlessness,' but she had to admit that if she had a type, Kakashi would check most of the boxes.
She shuffled closer to Kakashi's chair. "You know, I've never actually read them. Are they any good?"
Kakashi watched her, neither pushing closer nor pulling back. He seemed to be waiting to see what she would do next. It felt like nothing would have surprised him.
That scared her a little. With a childish grin, she reached out and snatched the book, as if stealing it had been her goal all along.
"You really are losing your edge, old man," she teased, hoping the heat in her cheeks wasn't obvious. She went to read aloud from the page Kakashi had been reading.
"What the hell?"
The page was unreadable. It looked like normal script, but not a single character made any sense. She turned the page, but it was the same cipher of meaningless symbols, as if she had suddenly become dyslexic.
This isn't right.
For the first time in more than a week, Sakura's head began to ache. "Why can't I read this?" She asked Kakashi, who watched her distress with a passive expression.
"Wake up, Sakura."
Sakura was having lunch with Ino. They were sitting in the sunny courtyard of their favourite place, watching birds scavenge crumbs from underneath the tables.
"So tell me more about Kakashi," Ino leaned forward, a familiar salacious look in her pale eyes.
Sakura rolled her eyes. "There's nothing to tell. He's a friend."
"And you're married," Ino waved her hand, "right, right. But does he make you happy?"
"You sound like Sarada," Sakura swirled the dregs of her tea around her cup. "But yes, I've really been enjoying spending more time with him. I feel like we drifted apart when Sasuke and I got married, but he's always been an important person to me."
"But would you be happier if you were...closer?" Ino waggled her eyebrows suggestively.
"Like I said," Sakura began, but was interrupted by the waiter.
"Your anmitsu, ma'am." They placed a glossy bowl of fruit and jelly in front of her.
"Did I order this?" Sakura tried to recall, but it made her head throb.
No, you didn't.
"Of course you did; it's your favourite food isn't it?" Ino said, and Sakura nodded.
"Right. Yes, I ordered it when we first arrived. I guess I just forgot." She swallowed a spoonful of jelly and its cool sweetness seemed to soothe her headache.
"Getting back to the subject at hand; if it's not Kakashi that you want, then who?"
"Ino!" Sakura hoped her expression was appropriately scandalised. "I. Am. Married. Talk like that is how rumours start."
"Forget rumours!" Ino slammed her fist on the table with enough force to rattle the cups. "You're meant to be happy. If Sasuke doesn't make you happy, then maybe Kakashi will. You've enjoyed training with him, right? And when he came to your house, you felt an attraction, right?"
"Did I say that?" Sakura rubbed her temples.
"I'm sure he wants you too, so there's no need to be afraid. If he's what you want, you should go for it. You could finally be happy."
"I am happy," Sakura protested weakly, but Ino looked unmoved. "Alright," she relented. "Next time I see him, I'll...talk to him. How's that?"
"Great!" Ino took a sip of her tea as if they hadn't just discussed the possibility of Sakura having an affair. "I think that's a great idea."
Sakura's thoughts were still a snarled tangle of uncertainties the next day, when Kakashi came around for training.
"Nice to see you," she said, for want of something more intelligent to say.
"Yeah; it's been a while," Kakashi said, with his usual eye-crinkling smile.
"Oh please, it was only…" Sakura bit her lip. "Yesterday?"
"Day before last," Kakashi corrected, and Sakura gave a self-conscious laugh.
"Sorry, I totally blanked for a second there." In truth, she still couldn't quite remember how long ago it had been. She remembered there had been a storm, but there didn't seem to be any puddles or other signs of recent rain.
"Can I come in?" Kakashi went to enter, but Sakura stepped forward to block his path.
They were close enough that she had to tilt her chin up to look at him. Kakashi looked back down at her, his masked mouth so close to hers that she could feel his breath. He didn't seem fazed by the proximity, and once again Sakura got the impression he was simply waiting for her to make the first move.
It was like staring into the abyss of a dark lake. She could bend forward, dive headfirst into waters that might be neck-breakingly shallow or unfathomably deep. She could hand over her sense of control, trust in the currents not to drown her. Or she could step back from the edge.
"Weren't we going to go train?" She asked, and her voice felt high and unnatural. But Kakashi stepped back from the door, and the moment was gone.
"If that's what you want, Sakura."
As they walked, Sakura tried to come up with a casual way to talk about the things she had discussed with Ino. The thought of turning to her former teacher, the former Hokage, and saying "I'm either attracted to you, or just horny in general. Either way, how do you feel about being a homewrecker?" seemed so ridiculous that she might have laughed if she didn't feel so sick. Was it meant to be this hard?
As if sensing her thoughts, Kakashi reached out and almost casually placed his hand around her waist. Sakura's head turned so fast that it made her head pound, but Kakashi's stride never faltered, and he guided her smoothly along the path.
Well, that answered one question at least. Her face must have been the same colour as her hair, and she waited for someone to comment on the scandal that was Uchiha Sasuke's wife walking arm in arm with the former Seventh Hokage, but nobody seemed to notice or care.
This is wrong, a voice in her head, echoing her fears. She pushed it away; perhaps it was wrong to do this with Kakashi, but her body craved intimacy too much to resist.
Get a grip on yourself! The voice shouted, and she turned to Kakashi.
"Should we talk about this?"
"What's there to talk about?" Kakashi kept his eyes forward, seeming completely relaxed with his hand on her body.
"Don't you think it's a little strange? I mean, what would I even tell Sarada? Or Sasuke, for that matter."
"I'm sure they'd just want you to be happy," Kakashi said. "That's all anyone really wants, Sakura."
Why?
"Why does everyone seemed so obsessed with my happiness lately?" Sakura stopped so suddenly that Kakashi almost tripped over her. She glared at him, hands crossed over her chest. "What's going on with you?"
For a moment Kakashi was so still that Sakura didn't even think he was breathing; it was like someone had hit pause on a video of him. But before Sakura could even raise a hand to wave it in front of his face, he snapped back to life, looking at her with eyes that chilled.
"What's going on is that you're too perceptive for your own good," Kakashi told her, shaking his head. "And you have no idea what you actually want."
Sakura had just enough time to reach for her kunai pouch before her head split open with a pain so intense that she was sure death would soon follow. It took a singular force of will to stay on her feet when her whole body wanted to black out to escape the pain.
"Who are you?" she managed to say, clutching her free hand to her head while the other groped for a weapon. "What is this?"
"'This' is meant to be your dream. It's meant to make you happy. But your mind keeps rejecting it. You thought you'd be happy if you married Uchiha Sasuke, but you can't even be near him without your subconscious twigging it as wrong."
"This is a genjutsu, isn't it?" Sakura felt sluggish, like complicated thoughts were suddenly too slippery to grasp. She settled for a simple thought: get away from whatever was wearing Kakashi's face.
"Of course it's a genjutsu," the not-Kakashi said, stepping forward even as Sakura stepped back. "But even if people figure that out, most prefer to just forget."
"Forget?" Sakura gave them an incredulous look. "I can't forget this."
Not-Kakashi sighed. "You say that every time. But you always forget in the end."
Sakura sobbed. The pain in her head was killing her, and she could feel unconsciousness creeping forward to snuff it out like water seeking fire. All she wanted to do was give into it; but she knew that if she slept, she would forget. Her mind would gloss over the incongruities and keep her trapped inside the illusion.
Do something, the voice of Inner Sakura whispered, breaking through the static of pain. We can't hold this back forever.
Clinging to her last threads of resolve, she closed the distance between her and Kakashi.
"Will you finally decide to just be happy?" the man asked, tilting his head down as if giving her a second chance at their almost-kiss in the doorway.
Sakura leaned forward. "You're not real," she whispered, and tugged down the edge of his mask.
She forced herself to look, even though her brain shied away from what it saw. Or rather, what it didn't see: where the rest of Kakashi's face should have been, there was nothing but empty space.
WRONG, the voice screamed, and she clung to that thought like a lifeline.
"What are you doing?" Kakashi asked, but there was no mouth to speak it.
"I've never seen it, so I can't imagine it," she murmured, focusing on that nothing-face like her life depended on it. "It's wrong, and you can't explain it away."
Kakashi's eyes narrowed over the top of the blankness. "Very clever. But there are other ways to make you forget."
Others on the street were turning to the pair, striding closer like bystanders drawn to the scene of an accident. She saw faces she recognised in the crowd: Ino, Naruto, even Sarada and Sasuke, who shouldn't have been anywhere near Konoha. None of them spoke, or even acknowledged Sakura as somebody they knew.
Kakashi's voice broke the silence. "Get her."
Sakura ran.
With every corner she turned, more people appeared to snatch at her arms and block her path. She leapt onto low rooftops where she could, and those illusory figures that wore civilian clothes seemed unable to pursue her there. As strong as the person controlling the genjutsu must have been (Sakura hadn't left Konoha in weeks, which meant someone had to have infiltrated the village to reach her) her own subconscious still had some sway in this dreamscape.
But it didn't stop her fellow shinobi. Every time she glanced back, the faces of those closest to her were always at the front. She wasn't sure if that was her own mind conjuring them or a tactic designed to unnerve her, but either way it was effective. Tears froze on her face as she ran, heading for the village limits. Her mind would expect fewer people to be there.
But as she ran onto the long bridge that spanned the river, it was clear that she had played right into the hand of her enemy. The other end of the bridge, which had seemed clear when she'd first stepped onto it, was now teeming with figures. Unlike the people at her back, these figures could barely be considered human. They had white skin like a dead thing, and their naked bodies moved with a sickening fluidity. They shuffled toward her, grinning with too-sharp teeth.
Behind her, the others were catching up. They had slowed to a walk now that it was clear she was trapped. Kakashi was at the front, with Sarada and the others a half-step behind.
"Don't worry," Kakashi called to her, his face still an unseeable void. "Soon you'll wake up, and this will all be nothing more than a bad dream."
Sakura formed the rat seal. "Kai!" There was a glittering in the air, like a thousand rippling strands of silk, and then everything stabilised once more. She was still trapped on the bridge, and the others were still closing on her from both sides.
Her back pressed against the metal railing. The river sucked and gurgled below, its glittering surface hiding an undertow strong enough to drown anyone careless enough to fall in.
It wasn't the kind of thing instructors encouraged shinobi to try. Sufficient pain could snap a person out of genjutsu, but such pain usually had to come from outside the illusion itself. It was theoretically possible to hurt your illusion-self badly enough to trick your real brain into a response; the problem was, pain of such magnitude was usually followed by death.
Even knowing there was no choice, it didn't make it easier. Taking a deep breath, Sakura flung herself back over the railing and into the river's embrace. She caught a brief glimpse of Kakashi, his hands grasping at the space where she had been, before the water dragged her down to the dark.
The current was strong, and Sakura tumbled helplessly in its grasp. There was no light, no indication which way was up and which was down. All she could do was wait. Eventually, she knew, the awful instinct to breathe would force her lungs to accept her death. When that breaking point finally came, her body fought her mind, struggling and spasming with the desperate need for oxygen. Her lungs burned from the water but the rest of her felt numb, confusing the boundaries of where she ended and the river began. Was she still moving with the current? Or did she lie at the bottom, pinned amongst the jagged rocks.
Like a crocodile whose prey had finally dived too deep, a pair of glowing eyes appeared in the darkness. This was her true captor, she knew. The veil was finally pulled back, and if she could just focus…
"Very clever," an alien voice whispered. "But just because you have reached the boundary of this world doesn't mean you can escape it." The eyes moved, swirling with the Rinne Sharingan. Sasuke?
At the point that all thoughts should have ceased, clarity burned like a beacon. This was a genjutsu, which meant whoever her jailer was, they had fucked up.
Escape? Inner Sakura laughed. This is my head, you bastard. You're the one who needs to get out. She clenched her fist, aimed for a point right between those hateful eyes. Shannaro!
The overwhelming urge to breathe was Sakura's first indication that she was still alive.
Her body convulsed with desperate breaths, and to her surprise it was air and not river water that entered her lungs. But the air felt wrong, and when she opened her eyes she realised she was still trapped. There was something covering her entire body, like a thick layer of bandages that stopped light and air from reaching her. Her thrashing became more violent, and with a loud tearing noise the membrane began to fall away.
Her stomach dropped out from under her and she realised with a jolt that she was falling. She forced her eyes to open against the sudden brightness, trying to gauge the distance to the ground. Her reflexes were slower than usual but she still managed to duck and roll before hitting the churned-up earth below. She crouched, panting and paranoid, trying to remember where she was.
There were thick roots growing all around, each sprouting dozens of enormous white pods. The pod just above her was torn and empty, but the rest were still intact. They swayed gently, despite the lack of breeze, and Sakura fought back the urge to vomit.
The moon was red as blood.
"Impossible," Sakura whispered, and her throat was so hoarse that it barely made a sound. She couldn't really be back at the final battle, could she? The war was over a decade ago. But this was how it had happened; the moon had shone with the symbol of the Rinne Sharingan, and everyone on earth had fallen to the Infinite Tsukuyomi. Only she, Kakashi, Naruto and Sasuke had been able to escape it.
But then...Sakura frowned in concentration. Overlapped with the memory of Sasuke scooping her and the others into his Susanoo was another memory, of her watching from a distance slightly too far as the purple wings of the shield passed her by. She remembered the stricken faces of Naruto and Kakashi, her heart hammering in her chest as her fists hammered against Susanoo's impenetrable body.
She forced herself to calm down. If she panicked then she would start screaming and never stop. That would probably still happen later, but for now she needed to figure out how much time had passed in the real world while she had dreamed thirteen years of lies.
She tried to mould her chakra: it was low, lower than it had been in a long time, but still enough for her to get by. She leaped up the nearest vine, trying to ignore the swinging of the pods below.
At first, there were only pods and eerie silence in all directions. But then her straining ears caught the edge of a sound that made her want to cry with relief: the sound of a thousand birds.
TW suicide, drowning