Chapter 11
Jugo looks at the fragile thing before him.
With a round, smiling face and slender limbs, it looked impossible for Sakura to be worth the effort of a battle. Sasuke had warned him of her strength, however. Hidden away in that oversized sweater was coiled muscle, ready to be enhanced with precise chakra control. The boss told him not to underestimate her, so he mustn't.
Shooing away the bird atop his shoulders, the massive man adjusts his stance.
"Thank you for doing this," the woman begins. The voice that rolls from her mouth sounds like music. It belongs to nature, to forest animals that search for lovers with their tunes. "Let's have a good match."
"Yes," Jugo agrees.
Attacking first, Sakura slams her fist into the space where Jugo's head was. Her speed was beyond what his mind had deduced. It was not quite as fast as Sasuke's or Naruto's, but the strike of her hand surprised him nonetheless. He dodges as nimbly as possible, ducking low, aiming to capture her body and toss her out of his proximity.
When her two dainty hands grip his shoulders instead, Jugo is not sure what to think.
Karin watches in awe as Sakura grasps the man below her and falls forward in a front-flip. Somehow, the weight of her body offers enough substance to propel Jugo backwards and pound him into the ground forcefully.
She is agile and cat-like, landing on the tips of her toes. The lioness crouches down into the plumes of dirt his body has rocked up, dancing from left to right foot.
Chancing a glance at Sasuke, Karin is both surprised and flustered that he watches their spar diligently. Jealousy is a disgusting feeling, but a natural one. The redhead knows better than to entertain herself with thoughts of romance between someone like him. Still, the heat his body gave off exited her spirit. If heart spoke for her, it would say that Sasuke's smile was enough to save her from an eternity of drowning darkness. It would say that true love could conquer all, even one-sided affections.
Her head screams, though, and it tells her to run as far and as fast as she can.
"He looks angry," Hinata says, raising her hand towards her mouth. "Will Sakura be alright?"
She was right. Jugo's frustration started to build. Just as soon as he pulls himself up from the crater, his flesh is pelted by thick slivers of wood from the tree Sakura's smashed him with. She does not stop her onslaught, weaving through his limbs like a slippery little viper.
"Of course she'll be okay, datebayo!"
Every punch he swings, every kick he throws results in nothing but empty air or unforgiving soil. His rage is peaking, and Sakura feels it. His moves become less and less rehearsed, taking the form of flails and flounders. The softness of his grunts turns gravelly. The skin stretched across his bones bleeds gray.
"You're losing control, aren't you?" She asks. "Your curse mark isn't active anymore. I wonder what is going on?"
Sasuke knew that Sakura was not quite familiar with Jugo's…special abilities. She did not know that Jugo's mutating abilities were not caused by the Cursed Seal of Heaven, but were actually an ability passed down from long-lost members of his unknown clan.
It was obvious that her medical knowledge could pick up on the change in his emotions—his flip-flopping personality is what made him so dangerous.
Innately, Sakura had always been a curious one. She loved to analyze and, to a point, dissect; she wanted to learn all there was that the world had to offer. Stepping back, the kunoichi bites her thumb, preparing to practice her axe wielding skills.
"It's probably not a good idea to do that now," she hears Suigetsu call.
There's a growling way he speaks to her, that probably has to do with his earlier experience with her weapon. Although he's solid now, the way his arms curve towards his chest would suggest he was barely keeping himself whole. "Zapping him is just gonna piss 'em off if you don't kill 'em."
Naruto frowns, wondering why the blue-man even bothered to help her with the fight. Blinking, he watches the sweep of Sakura's eyes.
He sees the drop in her guard.
Naruto had sparred with Jugo not long ago—he knew the magnitude behind those hits and the pressure it had put on his system. The moment Sakura looks at Suigetsu, she gives her opponent an advantage that could shatter bone. It is just what Sasuke's partner intended.
"Sakura, you need to move!"
Raising his eyebrows, Sasuke watches Sakura go from vertical dazedness to horizontal vigilance in a matter of seconds. The woman drops to the floor as Jugo glides above her, rolling away from his massive appendage just as it hits the ground. The depression his arm makes is huge, digging down deep enough for muddy sand to ooze out.
There is still danger around the corner.
As soon as Sakura's on her feet, Jugo is in front, shooting out a blast of chakra from his pores that burns her flesh and almost ruptures her eardrums. It sounds like a vacuum, winding its way through the fabric of her top and the weaves of her hair.
"That's enough," Naruto yells at Sasuke. "You've made your point!"
"I haven't made my point until she's been beaten." he retorts with words laced in resentment. Physically reacting, Hinata turns away from the battle and sets her gaze upon Sasuke.
With a small, mild voice she asks, "You will risk her livelihood for the sake of being right?"
Sasuke meets her pupal-less eyes. "I won't let her die."
Naruto grits his teeth, trying to control the fury that wells up inside of him. He steps in front of his wife, pushing her to the relative safety of his back. "No, you'll just let her get hurt. Like you always do."
When they were all just Genin, Sakura accepted the fact that she was not strong enough to get to the next level. Despite her knowledge, the kunoichi chose to be the third string of Team 7.
For her to want to participate in the Jonin exams, it must mean Sakura feels truly ready.
"These exams," the Jinchuuriki begins. "They are important to her. If she can't be a Jonin, her dreams will crash down. It doesn't matter if you won't let her die. Getting seriously hurt during training will make it impossible for her to recover by the next round. Just stop being so selfish; think of what it means to Sakura! If you don't end it, I will."
Exhaling the heat inside of his chest, Sasuke broods.
What was the point of being a Jonin if you got hurt all of the time? Even outside of missions, Sakura risked her life over meaningless things. She couldn't even pass the first examination without dying—not dying—whatever the hell that was.
Giving her the title of Jonin just because she tried hard was not how it worked. It took more than perseverance and sweat. It took talent. Her talents belonged in bleached hospital rooms, with injured people under her palms. Sakura's hands were for healing, not breaking.
Sakura's hands were not like Sasuke's.
If a fight were what she wanted, then she would get one. Without saying a word, Sasuke raises his palm to Naruto, indicating silence. They both knew exactly what the woman was capable of. The blond shouldn't count her out now. Just as soon as he shifts his gaze, a screech forces everyone back to the battle. It is a painful noise, one that is accompanied by a brutal swipe to an unmarred face—one that draws blood.
It is not Jugo's hand that breaks Sakura's nose, but the wind that followed his hit. Taijutsu was not Sakura's specialty, but she was quick enough to duck and twist her body in ways that protected her core from severe damage. Blinking the whiteness from her eyes, the woman covers her face with her hand.
"I mean it!" She hears Naruto say. When the blinding battlefield fizzes back, her vision is filled with an orange-haired fury, who lunges forward with an extended kick.
Pivoting not a moment too soon, the only thing that is damaged this time around is the back of her father's sweater, and the material gives way to the afternoon breeze.
The woman stills, grinding her teeth painfully against one another.
They were all watching her battle. Everyone was staring at her over-flowing, bloody nostrils, and the bruises that littered her skin. They saw the tears that streamed down her face and the hesitation in her movements. They thought she was weak.
Sakura was not weak.
Sakura was human.
For as long as she could remember, the kunoichi had followed behind her dearest friends. She could only stand by idly—she wasn't Sharingan no Sasuke, nor the Nine-Tailed Demon Fox. Sakura is no God. But, her strength proved that she didn't have to be.
When Jugo exposed her back, it was an omen. It was her sign—what Sakura is now is nothing like what she used to be. If Sasuke was going to watch, he was going to watch her win.
With a burst of boldness and determination, the 20-year-old shinobi pulled the ripped sweater over her head. The sudden hotness of the smoldering day pelted her skin harshly. Warmth rose to her peach-colored flesh. The diamond on her forehead throbs with its wanted release.
Turning expertly, Sakura captures the obscenely morphed appendage that used to be Jugo's hand. Her glowing arm wraps around it and, with her other hand free, her fist slams into his face so harshly that even the earth applauds her. Purple liquid seeps from his wound and covers her skin in a splatter, searing the tissue of her stomach. It's acidic. It's putrid.
"I am not weak!" she tells him—and anyone listing. Gaining on the beast, straddling his lethargic body, she continues. "I will not bow down and I will not fail!"
There are people behind her—people there to help pry her off the surrendering man. His body cannot possibly hold up against such trauma…it's as if he's battling the Raikage all over again. The diamond of Jugo's skin chips in thickening fragments.
"Stop," Naruto says while he glows a brilliant orange. His arms engulf her shoulders and as easily as picking up a child, he removes her.
It was one of those days where the sun disappeared behind clouds, teasing spots of shadows. It was one of those days where people would walk leisurely, safely in a home that overflowed with protection. It was one of those days where everything was perfect….
…a day Sakura couldn't take anymore.
"I can heal a hundred people at a time." She starts, turning to see that Naruto's eyes are boring into her own. "I can summon slugs and axes and move mountains."
"I know you can," Naruto tries to explain. He is not sure how to console her, or how to make things better. He'd always thought strong people like her couldn't ever possibly break down…because there was too many that relied on them.
There was no questioning it, though. Her wild movements took at least a small portion of his Kyuubi power to handle. Sakura…who was smart, calm, and level headed in battle was now a frantic and angry beast.
Suigetsu and Karin rush to Jugo's side, each equally curious and worried. From the other side of the field they, too, follow Sasuke's sure steps. He doesn't rush, of course. Instead, the snake approaches with no protection other than his brutal annoyance and feverish temper.
"I'm done, Naruto! Let me go—" She screams with another kick, another punch, another heartbroken crack in her tone.
Then, like diving into a frozen lake, the warmth of Naruto's encompassing hands washes away under the pressure of Sasuke's grip. His eyes glow threateningly, as if the Sharingan is itching for its release. Pulling Sakura to her feet and away from orange, she melts into his purple. "Just what are you trying to do? What are you trying to prove?"
"Myself," the kunoichi screams out heartbreakingly. "I am not strong because of my clan. I didn't get to this point because of destiny. There's no demon inside of me. No poison boosts my power—I am tough because I've fought for everything!"
"You don't think I've fought just as hard as you?" Sasuke hisses back. "Don't you dare come to me and whine about the injustices of your perfect, little life. Everyone I'd ever loved died in the span of a single night. I had no one to build me. I left behind the friends I cared for just to kill the person that destroyed my life!"
"I know, you idiot!" The woman retorts. "You left me first. You left me on that cold fucking bench to mourn the Sasuke that used to be! It's hard when you have to bury the ones you care for—I cannot possibly imagine. But, it's hard watch them turn into monsters, too, and that's something you'll never understand."
It was a dark night, illuminated only by the leftover sunrays the sun reflected upon the moon. Sakura might have well have been statue, carved from marble with blanched skin and pink hair that appeared white under the glow of that streetlight.
Somehow, this girl who did nothing but get herself hurt and cling to his warmth had known Sasuke's dark secret before he'd even figured it out himself. That fact scared him, as though he had a kink in his armor.
Sakura sounds less like a blathering fool, and more like a damsel on the soap operas his mother used to watch. She sounds like the night he abandoned his home. She sounds like a woman—like a lover.
He does not like it.
"You think that I am inept. You think that I am blind to your suffering and tragedy, when really, you have been the blind one. You have the gall to look me in my face and tell me you had no one?"
Stepping away from Sakura, Naruto clenches his fists and looks down at his feet.
There is a deep loneliness within his friend, an instability of sorts. Sadness is coiled down so far into his core that not even Naruto's punches could reach it. Sasuke may understand he is not alone now, but that didn't erase the fact that he used to be—that he wanted to be.
Frustration takes over Sasuke's body and her runs both fingers roughly through his hair, seething out his response. "We were kids, Sakura! I was 13 when that happened. You all knew that I had something greater than us to accomplish. I would not allow anyone to get in my way, not even you. I was weak, and I needed power—I could not get that power here."
"Yet," she begins, waving her hand through the air in front of her. "We got strong here. Out of everyone, who was able to defeat Kaguya by your side? It was not Orochimaru, or Suigetsu, or anyone else you'd met along your way. It was Team 7. It was me. I've loved you throughout all of this!"
There had never been a scene like this play out in the history of…forever. Karin watches dazed at a topless woman tears into, perhaps, one of the deadliest ninja of all time. He does not stand still and listen to her ramblings expressionlessly, like he would do if anyone else dared to confront him in such a provoking manner.
Sasuke is arguing right back, shaking with surprised ire and irritation. "You don't even know what love is! You don't the implications of your words!"
The distance between black and pink shortens with one of Sasuke's steps. The man wants to grab her and shake that nonsense out of her head, because there's no way she could possibly comprehend love and lust and everything else involved with the gravity of her words.
Whatever feelings carried on from their Genin days could not exist in Sasuke's world, he didn't think. He would never be the man that took her hand in marriage. Sasuke did not love her. Sasuke did not lust for her. Sure, he felt neither familial bonds, nor the comradery of friendship with her. Sakura Haruno was always something different, and that's what they grew their ties from.
She would always be precious to him, but that something couldn't be what she thought it was. It couldn't be. It couldn't be.
"I've admitted to my mistakes, and I've apologized to you for my misdeeds. I'm trying to fix what I broke. I have so many regrets. I will never, never regret not—not—."
Clenching his fist, he's unable to admit what Sakura begged him to do. He does not regret leaving her on that cold fucking bench, because taking her with him would have been a greater mistake than all of the others combined.
"I won't repent my actions on that day. That's the one thing I did right."
Sakura can see the firmness of that decision in his eyes.
Raising her hand, Suigetsu is sure that the pinkette is going to slap it across Sasuke's face like any other denied suiter would. Her face has bloomed into an anguished expression, showing every ounce of despair her heart must feel. The hit never comes, and instead, Sakura covers his eyes, which blaze wildly in red and purple, and drops her head low.
"You have always been someone that I admired." She cries out. "I'll admit that I may not have understood what I was feeling—I may not have known the magnitude of my confession and the words I said that night."
Sasuke's hand grips her wrist and he pries it from his face. Despite this, she continues.
"I am not naïve anymore. I will not chase you or beg you to stay with me. I won't weep over your lost soul any longer. But," She runs her thumb along the white fingers that squeeze her so tightly and concedes, diving into his chest.
Sakura's nose pushed into the fabric of his shirt and she smelled the earthiness on him. No candle could replicate the scent. It reminded her of their younger days, before they did anything important. When they walked dogs, painted houses, and stretched out in dewy grass waiting for their sensei to arrive. He smelled of simpler times, when Sasuke was just a crush and she was just a girl.
"I will always love you."
Feeling the breath leave his body and the weight of the planetary system fall upon his shoulders, Sasuke recoiled.
He could not do this.
He could not be around someone who cared for him so wholly. Love, for someone like him, was not rainbows, flowers, hugs, and kisses. Love was death. Love was despair, longing, painful.
Pushing the broken thing away from his body, he said, "I don't love you."
Because he couldn't. He couldn't risk the safety of his village if she were to... His heart couldn't take it and neither could his mind.
Hinata drapes a checkered picnic blanket over Sakura's shoulders, covering up the shaking broadness as best as she can. Her husband had disappeared after Sasuke only moments ago, promising to make things right no matter how much Sakura begged him to stay. She did not want any more promises of a lifetime.
"I'm very proud of you."
In this day and age, women are often taught to be silent and dress modestly. Hinata knows this most of all, as she was trained with etiquette by the most prestigious of teachers. Cross your ankles, sit up straight, and be silent while the men talk.
Every day of her life, Sakura disobeyed these rules. Times were changing, whether they wanted to or not.
"That means a lot to me," Sakura says. She strains to stand and loses her balance momentarily, draping her arm across Hinata's shoulders on instinct. "You always know just what to say."
By now, the sun is setting and night will come soon. Hinata knows Sakura doesn't need a hospital—she needs a warm bed. Although there is a bundle of weapons and supplies left under the oak tree, Hinata decides to walk the kunoichi back home and gather the equipment later, if it's not stolen by then.
When Hinata wraps her arm around Sakura's waist, she's surprised to see a flash of red fill her vision. Karin looks down at the girls with a straight face before squatting, offering her back to Sakura.
There's no malice or cruelty in her suggestion. "I'll take you wherever you need to go."
Shaking her head, Sakura's denies the gesture. "Really, I—" Denying her wishes, her knees buckle and she falls onto into the woman's warmth. It seems as though this healer is stronger than she looks. Standing as though Sakura were a plume of feathers, the pinkette mumbles one last copout. "Aren't you tired from healing Jugo?"
"Not as tired as you are from fighting him."
Silently, the duo waits for Hinata to pick up their disregarded meal and weapons, and when finished, she leads the way to Sakura's apartment.
Karin hasn't ever been to this side of town. The streets are narrow and smelly…a good kind of smelly, like food and flowers. People walk by in clothing that has no rips or frays, and everyone nods and smiles in their direction. Shaking her head at the strangeness, Karin stops walking when the black-haired one stops in front of Sakura's home.
Her slender finger unlatches the surrounding gait.
Without meaning to notice, Karin sees that the yard is mowed and the porch, though in need of a painting, is swept and tidy. Hanging from a single nail on the front door is a woven wreath, overstuffed with fake florae and obnoxious décor. Hot glue strings catch in the sunlight, mimicking a spiders' web.
"The key's under the mat." Sakura drones.
There's a funny sort of feeling bubbling inside of Karin's tummy. Someone like her was rarely trusted because of her past transgressions. It's odd to walk into a stranger's home without feeling the scrutiny of their gaze.
Especially one that's so…well, homey.
Sakura slides to the floor as soon as she's inside, kicking her shoes off and tucking them haphazardly beside a sitting bench. The first room Karin sees is a living area, with wide couches and unfolded blankets scattered messily about.
"Does anyone want tea?"
Hinata speaks first, adjusting the bags within her grasp. "I can't stay. I must go home and start dinner; my sister is visiting this evening."
"Karin?"
She stills. Two eyes turn to her, waiting for an answer.
This woman does not know what to say. She is not a friend, like Hinata is. She is not even an acquaintance. Sasuke stabbed her one time, Sakura healed her up, and that was that.
She's never been invited in for tea.
After a few more seconds of nothingness, Hinata clears her throat, bows, and politely exits just as noiselessly as she arrived. The door clicks and the two are left alone in the floral scent of the foyer, avoiding one another's gaze.
Unable to keep her motionless position any longer, Sakura smiles kindly and takes a step towards the hallway. "Well, I suppose I should put something on."
"Don't, I'll—." Karin's voice catches from the sudden blurt. She takes a deep breath, calming her nerves. "W-Where…would you like me to get your clothing from? Let me help."
The gratuity from this woman who, by all accounts, should be Sakura's rival is astonishing. Her unhealed body plops onto the sofa, and the woman graciously explains where to go. "The laundry room—I think there's a camisole on the dryer."
By the time Karin makes it back, she has a bundle of fabric draped in her arms of all shapes and sizes. "I didn't know what a camisole was." She admits. "There's this blouse right here, and I found a dress. Oops, I think those are pants. Uh, that's a skirt. The only thing left is a, uh, bra."
"I'll take the bra," Sakura replies. "That's the one I meant to put on this morning, actually. Go figure!"
Thrusting the material towards the couch, she turns quickly and listens to the slap of elastic as Sakura pulls the apparel over her chest. It covers her like a short tank top, exposing part of her stomach. Karin hadn't noticed the stretch marks before or the rugged blue scar above her hip. Her skin is dirty and sweaty, marred in small cuts from gravel and Jugo's hits.
Feeling as though she hadn't done enough, Karin wordlessly exposes her bite-littered arm, offering her chakra.
Sakura shakes her head. "Oh, don't worry about it. I can fix all this in a little bit. My arms feel like noodles right now, though. I think I need a nap first and then I'll—."
"You're in love with him." Karin says. She clicks her heels together and stares at her boots, stiffening her body out of embarrassment.
So confident in her feelings, Sakura does not even bother blushing anymore. It is simply the truth, and admitting the truth is easy. "I am."
The tick of a kitchen clock counts the moments it takes Sakura to sigh and tilt her head onto the back of her couch. "I'm in love with him, and I'm selfish for forcing the guy to listen to yet another confession."
Karin shakes her head. "No, that's not what I think at all! I just..."
There has never been a more confusing situation like the one between Sasuke and Sakura. Karin is not tasteful when it comes to wooing, and even though she's literally pressed herself upon Sasuke and forced him into lewd situations, he's never reacted as dramatically as he did around Sakura.
Sakura didn't rub against him, or constantly flirt. She was honest to her feelings and self, in a way that was not exaggerated or generic. The fact of the matter was that Sasuke would never shut down Karin so brazenly, because she was not a threat.
There must be more to the story.
"Whatever your problems are, they don't have anything to do with me." The redhead admits. "I just think there's more to Sasuke that what meets the eye. I wanted to thank you for helping me realize that."
Nodding, Sakura agrees. Of all people, she knows how tough his exterior is to crack.
There comes a point in your adult life, when you must learn to set aside tragedy and blame for the betterment of your own self. The people who forget their past are doomed to repeat it, but those that mourn what could have been will never escape the present.
Karin has been hurt. Karin has been thrown aside, tortured, and exposed to the harshest realities that ninja-dom had to offer. That bad did not outweigh the good. Everyone still deserved a happily-ever-after.
The love Karin felt for Sasuke was not like to love Sakura had for him. While Karin found the darkness in his spirit to be attractive, Sakura fought against it. Every time he pushed her away, the pinkette got back up swinging. She didn't chase after Sasuke to fulfill some sort of fantasy. She followed her heart and refused to suppress her emotions no matter how often Sasuke batted them down.
Both Sakura and Karin agreed that Sasuke was not as opaque as they'd like him to be. Perhaps the redhead could do something about that. She wanted nothing more than to see that man's smile—but the one that could draw it out, would certainly be Sakura.
Bowing lowly and respectfully, Karin bid adieu and all but ran away from Sakura's home. She galloped through the smelly street, passed civilians who crowded around one another, and honed in on the saturated, deep purple chakra of Sasuke Uchiha.
There was some reconnaissance to be done.