Chapter four
Full of grace

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Sakura woke slowly from the best night's sleep she'd had since it had happened. For once the nightmares had taken pity on her, and she'd dreamed comfortable dreams of which she could recall only snatches. Something about warmth and love and downy fur on a soft belly...

She opened her eyes. Black material. Chest. Arm. She glanced up. Face. Hair. Naruto.

Naruto?

What had she done? Why was she waking up in Naruto's arms? She struggled to get up but his hands clamped down tight on her, preventing her from moving away. She stilled and tried to remember what had happened. She'd been making dinner and then he'd said things and then she'd slapped him -

Oh. It was definitely official. She was a pitiable, bipolar, selfish selfish crazy person. She thought back on his wise words of the night before and blushed painfully at the recollection. What right did she have, assuming she'd been the only one affected? Everything Naruto had said was true, and how had she repaid his unflinching honesty, his unwavering friendship?

She'd slapped him, and then cried all over him, and then passed out on top of him in an exhausted stupor. Good one, Sakura. Way to treat your best friend. She rested back against him and let herself be soothed by the steady rise and fall of his chest. Thump-thump. Thump-thump. His heart was a regular pressure against the shell of her ear and she relaxed, completely at ease in his warm, familiar presence.

Sometimes she felt like everyone expected something from her, that every person who touched her life wanted a different Sakura. Tsunade wanted the bright, capable apprentice. Kakashi expected the uncomplaining hindrance. Ino still saw that awkward girl from so many years ago. To Sasuke, she'd always been annoying and weak.

But to Naruto...she'd always been herself. Nothing more, nothing less. There was no need for masks or pretenses between them. He knew she could be loud and violent. He accepted that sometimes she cried and felt helpless and he always knew what to say and do to make things better again. He saw her, truly saw her, and offered his unconditional friendship from day one. He was always humbling her, always making her realise that there was more out there than she'd always thought. His kindness and generosity of spirit had always been unmatched and she had just never let herself see.

She'd been blind as well as stupid, and her great big eyes had obviously been rendered useless by the weight of her great big forehead. She looked up and saw that Naruto's forehead was creased and his mouth was turned down, affected by a night - well, day - terror that she couldn't see. Gently, so as not to wake him, she reached up and brushed her fingers across his brow.

"It's all right," she whispered, wondering who she was reassuring, Naruto or herself. "Everything's going to be all right."

He sighed and leaned into her touch, skin warm as always against her hand. She'd noticed that years ago, patching up one wound or another. Maybe it was the burning fury of the Kyuubi railing at the world from within, or maybe it was just the warmth of his bright spirit taking on a tangible form. Either way, it had always been like this. Just like Sasuke's skin had always been cool to the touch, shocking her every time she pressed herself against his side. It a fit of romantic aesthetic once, she'd convinced herself he'd burned cold with rage for Itachi, but even that childish notion hadn't conveyed the hatred he felt for his older brother.

At least he'd died appeased in that, having taken care of matters on the familial end.

She was still touching Naruto's face and something inside of her told her not to pull away, just as she realised she was. She hesitated for a long moment, before brushing lightly down across his cheeks, tracing the marks across them with a trembling finger. His skin was smooth and free from bristles, and she wondered if it was a sign of the Kyuubi or perhaps something gained from his own family, whatever, whoever they had been. She followed the contours of his face almost absently and found herself drawing over his lips before she could stop herself.

Her fingers tingled. Her heart forgot what it was doing and paused for a beat. And then the world resumed turning as she snatched her hand away, as if from a flame, her face burning and her thoughts whirling at what the hell that had been all about. What had she been doing, touching him like that? He was asleep; it was like she'd been taking advantage of the poor boy. And after he'd slept in that uncomfortable position all night, too. She harboured no illusions that he'd chosen to sleep sitting up like that. Obviously he'd tried to move and she'd selfishly rebelled in some way. He was too soft-hearted for his own good, really.

Even as she chastised him in her mind, she couldn't help but smile. He'd lifted a weight off her chest last night, gotten her out of her funk. He was the best friend she could ever ask for, and she didn't know what she'd done to deserve someone like him in her life. How wonderful. How fortunate. How did she feel about him?

The thought took her by surprise and not for the first time she wished she only had the one personality. What a pleasant dream, normalcy. She sighed wistfully at the idea and then let the question simmer in her mind, growing and heating until she thought her brain would burst.

How did she feel about Naruto? It was a silly, irrelevant question and yet suddenly the most important one in the world. Everything and nothing hinged on her answer and she felt winded and nauseous from even contemplating the thing.

Ridiculous. He was her best friend and the kindest person she'd ever met. That was all. Her teammate, nothing more. It was stupid to think that there was anything more meaningful in how good, how right it felt, cradled like this in his arms. It was stupid to have her heart beat erratically at the way he'd calmed her, saved her with his words last night. And it was more than stupid to have butterflies tickle her belly at the way his face looked so young, so innocent, so beautiful in the fading touches of sleep.

Idiot!

She had to get away from him, out of here, off the floor of this hut that was the world to them in this moment. She hated to wake him but it was more frightening to stay here, alone with her thoughts.

And yet, one last time...

She reached up and let her fingers once more trace over the smooth lines of his closed lips, memorising their feel and softness since she'd never be in this position again. She couldn't, for her sanity. For their friendship. Was she fickle, for even entertaining the possibility? Was it even cheating, when the other person had never felt the same, and was gone, anyway? It was too much, too soon, and yet it was too little, as well.

She clamped down on her emotions and pushed down hard on the floor, getting a bit of leeway in his arms before rolling to the side. She flipped on to the wooden floor and sighed in relief at getting out and away, just as Naruto sensed the loss of her presence and snapped to attention, his eyes instantly focused and awake.

"Sakura-chan?"

He saw her and visibly relaxed, smoothing his shoulders back into less tense lines. "I thought you were gone." It was like he felt the need to explain to her, lips curving up into a lopsided grin. She stared at them, fascinated, before shaking herself out of a potential stupor.

"I'm going to wash," she said abruptly, standing and marching to the door. She felt his eyes on her back until she pushed the tent aside and made her way out, unable to repress the fierce, dark blush that stained her heated cheeks.

----

Naruto watched her storm off, more than a little confused at her weird mood. She'd been so sad and fragile last night, and now, after a few hours' sleep, she was strangely distant and angry at something. Or someone. Maybe she hadn't liked waking up with him holding her. Maybe that had been too forward and she'd been disgusted. Maybe he'd tried something in his sleep and she'd woken up to his hand in places it shouldn't go without an invitation.

Dammit. If it was the latter, then the Ero-Sennin would be getting a visit very very soon. If Jiraiya had made him a sleeping pervert there would definitely be hell to pay.

But she hadn't looked entirely angry. She'd seemed almost embarrassed, and maybe a bit afraid? No, he was reading too far into things and that was not his forte. He knew he wasn't the smartest guy around, but he tried to combat that with stubbornness and sheer force of will. Most of the time it worked. Sometimes it didn't. Luckily in a combat situation he had other team members to rely on, because in real life, he wasn't so fortunate. And so he did what he usually did when something was too confusing to dwell on - he stopped thinking about it. If it was really important, it would sort itself out later. And if it wasn't that important, there was no point in wasting time thinking about it.

Especially when there were far more important things to do, like make breakfast. He pushed aside Sakura's congealing ramen and rummaged through his pack, finding nothing terribly exciting in the way of food within. He shrugged and reached out for Sakura's pack, taking out her first aid kit and placing it carefully to the side. There was a packet of oats right down the bottom and he grabbed it, catching the edge of the parcel on something as it came out. He threw out his other hand to grab both things, not wanting to risk her considerable ire by spreading rolled oats through her bag. His stretching fingers caught the edge of something hard and he withdrew both items, placing them soberly in his lap.

Some of the oats rolled down his pants leg but he ignored them for the time being, his attention fixed on the small photograph in front of him. He knew this picture as well as he knew his own reflection, which was fortunate in a way since he was in the shot too. Of course, he'd been much younger then, so arrogant and free, but physically, little had changed. He was taller, of course, and he'd grown into his face a bit, but the other essentials were pretty much all there. They'd all changed, but it was only in little ways.

Sasuke had grown his hair out, he remembered, sporting a ponytail not unlike Itachi's. They'd looked so similar in the end, lying next to each other, faces peaceful and serene but too still and why was Sasuke that white? He's always been pale but now his lips were turning blue and Sakura, you have to save him but you're right, Kakashi, you can't bring the dead back to life.

He blinked and tried not to look at the dark eyes in the picture because they'd been open in the end as well. He'd seen the crimson light of the last true Sharingan bleed back into darkness and then glaze over with the terrifying certainty of he's never coming back.

But they'd gone over this last night and he didn't want anyone to say that Uzumaki Naruto was in any way a hypocrite, so he took his own advice and moved on, skipping his eyes across the glossy paper and honing in on Sakura as she had been then. Pretty, of course, with that long fall of pink hair and that mischievous glint in her dark green eyes. She had been pretty, he thought, but she'd grown beautiful before that time. It had become a fragile kind of beauty now, with her pale skin and jagged cut of hair, her eyes almost too large in her wan, drawn face. When she smiled there was a hint of that girl again, and he wished there was some way to turn back time, fitting the pieces back together and making them all whole.

But there wasn't, and he knew it, and she knew it too. Hopefully their talk last night had helped a bit, and they could start looking forwards instead of wallowing in the past. He ran a gentle hand across the glass of the frame and then slipped it back where he'd gotten it from, before pouring some water into the pan and heating up the oats.

He was splitting it into two servings when Sakura returned, putting half in the ramen bowl he'd eaten from the night before and leaving half in the pot, which he offered across when she sat down.

"Thank you," she said, taking it with a steady hand. He blew on his own serving and glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, noting her pink, shiny face and determined eyes. He hair was wet and it curled against the nape of her neck, softer looking than usual and suddenly very interesting indeed. He stared at it until he caught himself, and then busied himself with eating, wolfing down the bland porridge as fast as he could. When he'd scraped the last bits from the bottom, wincing at the faint beef taste it got from the dregs of ramen, he got to his feet and moved to the door.

"I'll wash too," he announced, pushing the tent aside. "And then we can go to the border villages and see if the Baa-san has any idea of what she's talking about." He grinned at nothing and pushed out into the sunlight, suddenly wanting the cold touch of water very, very much.

----

Sakura brushed angrily at the hem of her long-sleeved dress, wishing she could have done this mission in long pants and her vest. It was impractical, wearing dresses, and she wasn't very familiar with what they entailed, so she hadn't packed any warm undergarments or stockings or the like. As a result, her legs were freezing and gusts of wintry wind seemed to hone in on her and lift the flap of her skirt for fun, which in turn caused strange, pervy-looking village men to act very friendly towards her, indeed.

She didn't like it one bit.

It was late afternoon on the fifth and final day of their "mission", and each successive bout of questioning had made it clear that Tsunade had been under the influence when she'd given them this task. Maybe they'd misunderstood. Maybe she'd said "Wave country" and meant for them to go to Wind country. Boy, were they going to get their hides tanned if that was the case. But surely they both couldn't have misunderstood. Regardless, thus far, they'd learned nothing. There was no dissent. There was no rebellion. Few people enthused about the government but that was how all societies were. Most people were generally satisfied or truly didn't care. They'd just wasted nearly a week.

She glanced over to where Naruto was chatting animatedly with a couple of village girls. They were giggling coquettishly and one even had the audacity to move closer and touch his arm. Sakura felt her fists clench. The girl looked surprised and said something to her friends which made them all - including Naruto - burst into laughter. A knuckle popped. Maybe the girl had noticed how his skin was so much warmer than everyone else's. Maybe she'd squeezed his forearm and felt the hard press of muscle, the coil of sinew within. Maybe she was hitting on him right in front of her. Either way, it was not on.

She wasn't in the best of moods with him already. He'd been incredibly stubborn over the last few nights and it had aggravated her through the day, that and the pointlessness of this task. He was being ridiculous.

He was sleeping on the floor.

After that first night she'd grabbed their bed rolls and spread them out over the least-stained mattress, the only one that had survived the cleanup. When it was time to call it a night she'd killed the lamp and gotten into the bunk, sidling close to the wall and waiting for him to join her. She waited. And waited. Finally, she heard a rustle of fabric as he curled up on the ground.

"What are you doing?" she asked, incredulous. The nights had turned rather nippy and surely he didn't expect to get any sort of rest on the ground.

"There's only one bed, Sakura-chan," he'd replied patiently, as if that explained everything. "You can have it, I'm right on the floor."

"You most certainly are not!" she'd returned explosively, throwing off the flap of the bedroll and padding across to where he lay. "Get up, you idiot, and get in with me."

"No," he'd said calmly, ignoring her shouting right beside his ear. "I'll stay here, thanks."

And, for once, he hadn't budged. She'd yelled, she'd cajoled, she'd threatened violence, and he'd suffered through all of them, replying to the violence with, "Well, if you hit me, maybe I'll fall unconscious and then I'll get to sleep anyway."

Outfoxed by Naruto's logic, she'd eventually had to go to bed. And he'd stuck to it. For four nights. For four freezing nights.

And now look at him! Flirting outrageously with those tarty village girls. Was that one sucking her finger? Oh no. No, no, no. That was not right. No one was allowed to get that close to him. No one but -

...her? Sakura blushed, somewhat astounded. Was she actually jealous? Was that question about her feelings coming back to haunt her? Did she actually like him more than a friend? Did she lo-

"Hey."

She turned, disgustingly relieved to be distracted from both her thoughts and the scene affecting them, finding two burly farm youths smiling sunnily down at her.

"Hey," she returned awkwardly, unsure of what to say. Did she know them?

The taller one was blonde, and leaned down casually to murmur conspiratorially in her ear. "Are you the one asking about...dissent among the villagers?"

Her heart pounded suddenly. Was this a lead? Had Tsunade been right after all? "What if I am?" she replied carefully, keeping her face blank.

The shorter of the two had dark hair, and brought a finger to his face, tapping his nose before smiling some more. "Then maybe you should come with us."

She looked back at Naruto but he was still caught up with the stupid girls, and she felt her face harden as she looked away. "Sure," she said casually, flicking her hair back with one hand. "Lead on."

They exchanged a look and indicated a side street, and she followed them down it without a second glance.

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Haha, Sakura, you idiot. :P

Labu and dedications to Nushi, of course, and much gratefulness to DarkenedSakura and sureasdawn for their patience and comments. Thanks to everyone who reads and reviews - I love hearing from you! - and yay for only one more chapter! See you all in less than a week. :D