Chapter 17

Straining her sore muscles, Sakura peeled off her tight jumpsuit like a snake shedding its skin. The wound on her upper thigh was inflamed and burning something fierce—she still hadn't been able to fully heal it, although it looked a lot better than it had. The chakra that she needed to heal it wouldn't be available until tomorrow, there was no point bothering with it now.

Her aching, dainty foot met the smooth porcelain of a bathtub. Steaming hot water already neared the brim and it almost overflowed with her added mass. She lowered—deeper and deeper until nothing but her brilliant green eyes and the gentle slope of her nose were exposed.

Nothing could make her relax, though—not after that peek into Sasuke's mind.

The woman scrubbed away at her body, ignoring the sensitive cells that she reformed after burning oil had melted her skin. In a way, she felt spoiled. Sure, it was only a bath, but as a ninja, she'd spent many a night on dusty earth and days without cleaning.

Survival was a Chunin trope. That's why the Forest of Death was such a big part of that exam. Her second try at becoming a Chunin had been similar, too. She, Ino and Choji had wandered across Suna's excruciatingly hot desert with little to no supplies. It was brutal, but not unlike any mission to Suna she'd taken since.

Fighting was the name of this game—and fighting strategically did not come easy. Sakura understood where Kakashi was leading her peers. Some battles don't pan out like you expect, veering you so far off of the mission course that death becomes an unfortunate reality.

Immersing completely, the kunoichi ducked under, trying to keep her thoughts preoccupied—trying not to think of that or him or anything else.

The Uchiha eyed his surroundings skeptically.

Popping up just like a scenery change, the room appeared from data. It was rudimentary, containing only a bed, a dining table, and an area for washing up. Compared to the last exam he'd participated in, this was a lot more accommodating.

He scarfed down his meal—never the type to savor the taste or dwell on the smell. (Unless it was natto, in which case, fuck that.) It was a simple bowl of broth and noodles, piled high under steamed vegetables. Healthy, hearty—better than soldier pills or ninja rations by far.

Sasuke stretches and ambles towards the corner, lying down on a thin mattress that was too soft and squeaked with every breath. Hair, still wet form his no-nonsense shower, stuck to his cheeks uncomfortably. The cloth pajamas he'd found in the bathroom were too constricting on his skin. He tossed and turned, unable to rest even though he was drained both physically and emotionally.

Slowing his breathing and sealing his lids, he decides to test his memory of shinobi rules—it had been a while since he'd bothered to follow them.

A shinobi must never show tears. A shinobi must prepare before it's too late. A shinobi must never show weakness—

Contestant 08 would like to communicate with you. Permission to open a direct route; denied or granted?

"Denied," Sasuke hissed aloud, sitting up suddenly. He grinds his teeth and clenches his fists because just like that, he was thinking. The calmness of his mind raged with emotions, and those terrible little nymphs brought out the worst in him—his indiscretions, his sins, his turmoil.

She'd seen everything. She'd felt everything. Sakura saw the darkest of thoughts pop up in his head at the most inopportune time there possibly ever could have been. He had never purposefully thought of her in such a way and he isn't sure why it had happened so suddenly.

He bites the inside of his cheek as CYLAN speaks again. Contestant 8 is asking for permission to open a direct route.

"No," Sasuke all but snarled. Standing, the man throws his pillow angrily onto the mattress and runs his fingers through his hair.

Sakura was innocent—innocent to the abuse and cruelty of their world. It was such a rare thing. Even rarer for a ninja. If he—if Sasuke destroyed that part of her, there would be no way to fix it. He was pollution. She was a healer, an unblemished kunoichi that would influence the future of Konoha. Ninja like Sasuke would die out, and when Naruto became Hokage, there wouldn't be any more war. There wouldn't be any corruption. There would be peace.

In a different life, Sasuke could have loved her.

With every mission they completed, with every smile, touch, and wave, he grew more and more attached. She became a pillar for his heart. She became a trusted companion. He repaid her by shattering her spirit, stealing a kiss, and abandoning her in the dead of the night.

The man makes his way to the bathroom and throws water on his face. He stares at his reflection—his narrow eyes and bold eyebrows. His nose, although straight, had the slightest of bump from repeated breaking. Lips, fuller than an average male, belong to his mother—and his stern jaw could only be Fugaku's doing.

Uchiha stories told that their dark hair and black eyes helped them blend into the shadows. The fire of their clan and the sharingan that contrasted was designed to draw attention. They were meant to look, supposed to fall victim and drown in their visual prowess.

Sakura is just another casualty. Their bodies react to one-another because it's natural. Sasuke wants to touch her, because she is attractive. There's nothing more to it. Scientifically, chemically, and physically, they were bound to collide. Caught in an endless loop, pushing and pulling away from one another over and over until something finally gave.

Sasuke, though—he wouldn't give. Sakura was last person on earth that deserved any more heartbreak. Unable to control his actions around her, or his thoughts, Sasuke decided that distance was necessary.

Distance would save them.

Patting his face dry, he makes his way back to the bed.

Genjutsu: Illusionary techniques, in which a ninja controls the chakra flow of a target's cerebral nervous system, thereby affecting their five senses.

Sakura mentally repeats this knowledge as she dodges a snapping, quadru-articulated prong. The Genjutsu Android [GA] shook away ceiling rubble from its paws, leaving a huge hole that led to the outside. The opening showed only grid—no sky, no stars.

It had been mere moments ago that she was sleeping soundly. The worst part was that she'd been in the middle of a wonderfully inappropriate dream. Chaste kisses and trailing hands gave way to a spray of drywall, which sent her reeling backwards as she untangled from bedsheets.

An arm—one of the four the droid possessed—tried to clamp down on her torso. Sakura managed to roll off her cot as it disintegrated into oblivion. As strong as her body was, the kunoichi couldn't handle another injury.

She was vulnerable. Using taijutsu was strictly prohibited at this point. The only affinity Sakura had for Genjutsu had been recognizing the flaws—under such a manipulated area, that became moot. She couldn't battle. She was stuck.

So, she ran.

Pumping chakra into her legs, Sakura all but screamed for their mental companion to contact Sasuke. "Cylan, please, try again!"

It only takes seconds for the silvery voice to respond. "Access not granted."

Sakura panted as she created distance, looking over her shoulder at the robot that continued its pursuit. It was on the move, its tracks grinding against the nothingness of the gridlines beneath them. It felt as if she weren't running at all—and if she didn't have her enemy as a point of reference, she'd feel like she was on a treadmill.

While the Taijutsu Android had been completely circular, bipedal and bi-articulated, this oval droid moved on tracks that resembled a tank. Four arms sprouted from its body. The large, multidirectional camera from the previous version was bigger now. It stayed transfixed to Sakura's slapping feet, never straying, cutting through the distance she had created.

Naruto never ran. Even in the direst of situations, he was strong enough to turn and fight and pull battle plans right out of his ass. His body moved on instinct, and he trusted his instinct.

Sasuke liked to analyze. How strong was his opponent? What did he have to lose? Was the risk greater than the reward?

Sakura sucks in a cold burst of artificial air, ignoring the pain in her body, she sharp throb in her still unhealed thigh, and turned 90 degrees to her left. This woman, formed from earth, ash and blood, was a kunoichi. She did not work on instinct or analytics—she was trained to avoid injury in any way and fall back.

The pinkette ran towards the machine, anyways.

Thrusting chakra to her fists was technically classified as ninjutsu, if it was narrowed to less than the size of her hand. The line between medical chakra control and chakra enhancement was small. Sakura had always been praised on her chakra control. There was no room to mess up here. Any stutter in her movements could cause sever damage.

Worst-case scenario: she'd be brought to her knees from the shock her bracelets would emit, and promptly stomped into oblivion.

That was simply not an option.

Feeling her chakra seep along the outside of her knuckles, Sakura dodged a flailing limb and hopped upon the metal cord, sprinting up the length of it. The green hue ebbed shakily, taking all of her concentration to good hit. One good hit would damage this thing long enough for her to find Sasuke.

Heaving back, Sakura uses every bit of her frame to fall into her punch. Her hit, however, does not land.

Instead, a crushing weight slams into her abdomen. With a winded gulp, Sakura tried to bring oxygen back into her lungs. She can feel her ribs crunch, her organs shift, and everything starts to get fuzzy.

Sasuke! Sasuke I'm hurt! Please!

Sasuke had fallen asleep. He knew this, because when he awoke, his chakra felt fuller and his eyes weren't so heavy.

But the clock on the nightstand still said the same time.

He'd already messed with it. It ticked, it was plugged into a wall outlet, the second-hand spun normally but the minutes never seemed to move. Standing up for the second time that night, the man crosses his arms and narrows his eyes.

Let me talk to Sakura.

She is not able to communicate at the moment. CYLAN responds.

The revelation does not sit well. From 0 to 100, Sasuke heart thrums and he becomes suddenly anxious. Why?

Contestant 8 is incapacitated.

Sasuke's stomach drops.

She'd been calling to him. She'd been attacked, probably, and reached out the only way she could—and Sasuke ignored her. He curses himself and ties the laces of his boots swiftly, heading towards the door. Sasuke opens it…and the action repeats itself on a continuous loop. As if two mirrors were sitting in front of one another, door after door opens, leading to nothing but a shrinking rectangular void.

Throbbing behind his eyes, chakra activates his genjutsu tomoe but nothing changes. He is trapped, watching the doors open and open and open, beckoning him to enter an endless hallway. So he turns, trying to find a different route, but there is nothing behind him. The bed, the bathroom, the clock had all been fake.

Shaking his head, Sasuke runs. He ignores the crumbling backdrop as it swallows the shadow of his footsteps. He progresses until that black rectangle finally grows big enough to swallow him whole, and when it does, he finds himself in a room with wet floors and four walls—nothing else.

The air was stale.

This must be what it's like to be caught in genjutsu. His mind had never been tricked to such a degree. Kai didn't release anything—he ran his hands along the walls to no avail. Time ticked on, everything was too white, the soundlessness from before had morphed into a high-pitched buzz. It got louder and louder. His vision started to blur.

What the fuck am I supposed to do?

A body falls to the floor from above, and his arms reach out to capture it just before it collides with the ground.

Sakura's head lolls from side to side in his arms. Sasuke lays her down as gently as he can, sharingan blazing as he searched for signs of distress or chakra fluctuations. Her eyes were open and jaded, her minty chakra showed obvious signs of entrapment. She was caught up in genjutsu.

Sakura was intelligent. In any other situation she'd probably already have broken free. However, Sasuke knows that this terrain was as easy to manipulate as his own genjutsu world—she wouldn't have noticed when she dithered from one place to the next. It was a perfect trap.

Well, almost perfect.

Sasuke's sharingan could place him into the minds of others, just like CYLAN had done. He couldn't necessarily hear real-time thoughts or feelings, but he could hypnotize opponents and control the inner workings of their conscious…and in some cases, enter their heads completely. He'd done it to Naruto, going farther, seeing the Nine Tailed Fox all those years ago.

In theory, he could also go inside of another person's casted illusion. It wouldn't be too difficult. The act wouldn't be comfortable for Sakura but there was nothing else he could do. This room had caught him physically, and their opponent had captured Sakura mentally.

He stares into her dilated eyes and falls in, deep within, to the middle of her psyche.

Sakura's head was as bright as her chakra network. Light seemed to stream from every direction, blinding him, proof that darkness had never contaminated her. His skin warmed from the heat—but it went even farther, through his muscles and bones. It tingled. It buzzed.

Sasuke wandered around in the radiance, looking for a flash of pink. Invading someone's mind, in normal circumstances, led him directly to their spirit. This place, as beautifully bright as it were, was…hollow. Empty. Lonely.

It wasn't the traditional type of lonely, either.

In the human mind, Sasuke thought of loneliness like hunger. People craved affection and warmth. That feeling of abandonment often caused everything to turn inky and cold. This place was just the opposite. But why was it so…unwelcoming?

Turning to try a different direction, Sasuke suddenly spots a dot of gray in the distance. It stood out in the whiteness, gliding towards him like a celestial, otherworldly being. The shape of a human appears, and with each sashaying step, Sasuke recognizes the bland apparition.

"Sakura?" He asks, testing her name on his tongue. It looks like Sakura…but unlike her as well.

Sasuke looks at the monochromatic woman in front of him. Her forehead was marked in kanji and her skin was colorless. The expression that spread across its face portrayed abhorrence—it's something he has never seen from her before.

This must be a part of this robots genjutsu. The inner spirit copied the outer exactly—his trained eyes watched her movements and relayed them to his teammates. They were perfectly matched. Scanning the object, he's genuinely stunned to see the familiar flicker of Sakura's minty green chakra system.

Sasuke was cocky and narcissistic; he had no qualms about admitting it. He was rarely deceived and seldom lost. He trusted his power and his brother's eyes. There was no denying what he saw.

The form before him was as solid and realistic as any human would be, without anything that bound it to reality. His instincts were battling against his vision. She was not the real Sakura, but she was real and she was Sakura.

A growl escapes his lips. "What are you?"

The spirit laughs right in his face. Her ashen tendrils were tied in a braid that was twisted over her shoulder. She played with the paintbrush end, twirling her finger around it in a habitual fidget.

"I'm Sakura."

She approaches and Sasuke does not withdrawal. The scent of cotton candy fills his nostrils. He recognizes it instantly, remembering that Sakura used to smell like the fluffy treat long ago as a Genin.

Her remembers, because her fragrance was much too strong for a proper ninja. Her skin was too soft, her hair was too bold, and her eyes were too sunny.

"You know this scent, don't you? I thought you would. Wasn't she so…deliciously innocent?" The words come out like a purr. The spirit circles him.

Sasuke repeats his words, following her movements. "What are you?"

It wasn't genjutsu. It wasn't a trick, or a glitch. This figure was an entirely separate entity from the Sakura he'd known. A second mind—she had a second spirit?

"She calls me inner Sakura. I have always been. I will always be. I am everything Sakura wishes she could say and do. I am her, but she's not me. You're here to save take her back, right?"

Without waiting for a response, the phantom turns to walk off. Her hair is the color of starlight, and it dances down the length of her small, feminine back. Every step draws attention to her wide-set hips, and she raises her hand in the air, curling her finger to beckon him closer.

This Sakura does not need to see if he follows. She knows that he will.

Curious and confused, Sasuke does.

There are shining reflections from walls that lead down into different paths. From the middle of her mind, different sections split and branch out, and inner Sakura guides the way to somewhere farther within.

Sasuke was wanted, here. There was no pressure on his chest, pushing him out, like when he infiltrated anyone else's head. Instead, it was as though he belonged, pressing deeper and deeper amongst the roots of her essence without any hesitance.

The man wondered how he would feel if someone invaded him like this. It had never been done before—not on this level. Yes, Itachi had replayed the demise of his clan in a haunting loop, but he didn't see Sasuke's memories—his feelings.

Sasuke had many sins and regrets, hidden between the folds of his spirit. He had invasive thoughts—horrible images and ideas that he would never agree with popped up and caused him not to trust himself. They called to him, telling him to hurt people, and even himself.

Orochimaru had tortured him. Sasuke had allowed it. He wanted power at any cost. It didn't matter if it damaged his mental state or his body. He became immune to poisons and intoxications, examined in every way possible. Blood was taken from him, his morals were shifted, he was abused and drugged all for the cause. So now, because of everything, his body and mind will be forever broken.

Sasuke did not want himself in his own head…but he fell into Sakura's with ease.

Inner Sakura'svoice cuts through the air. "We have to go through her memories. She's hiding too far in. She couldn't get ahold of you."

Sasuke breathes out, feeling a rush of guilt pass through him. Sakura called out, several times, during her attack. But he says nothing, watching as Sakura's life flashed around…

A birthday chorus floats around from when Sakura turned five. A man with purple hair stands beside the little thing, holding out a slice of cake. "Make a wish!"

Stopping, Sasuke eyes the young child. Her hair covers her forehead and eyes completely, making her look like a shaggy dog. "I wish—."

"No!" Her father stops her. "You must say it in your head."

From inside of her head, Sasuke can hear her childlike voice say, "I wish I was someone else."

"Don't stop moving," Inner Sakura calls back, turning on her heel. "She won't like it if we hover for too long."

Yet, a pressure forms around his body, slowing him down. New memories appear, leaping over the old ones, trying to cut in line. They want to be seen, regardless of whether Sakura wants it to happen.

Ino from a childhood Sasuke knew nothing of, bleeds into life before him. She ties a red ribbon around Sakura's head, pushing her bangs back. "It's silly to hide that wide forehead. Just embrace it. Who cares what anyone else thinks?"

"I'm scared though, Ino."

Sakura's adolescent images weave in and out. He watches as she runs from her father after accidentally breaking an antique vase. He watches her slap brown bath water, pretending to bathe because her grandma stood outside the door listening. It looks icky!

He sees himself as a child, shooting Sakura an annoyed glare with onigiri rice speckled across his face. It was an awful look from a young, orphaned boy. She blushes.

"Everyone!"A young Sakura runs up to a group of children, waving her arms around. "Listen, I have someone that I like! Wanna know who it is?"

"Tell us all about it. Please don't say it's Sasuke-kun though!"

"Huh? How…did you know?" She looks bewildered.

"Well, duh! Sasuke's only the biggest heartthrob in the village."

The little girl smiles at her best friend. "Hey, Ino! Sasuke seems to like girls with long hair, so I'm going to grow mine. Hehe!"

And then, Sakura's a contestant in the Chunin Exams. Those long locks fall between the fingers of an enemy.

I'm so week. I'm always being protected.

She steadies a kunai, slices it behind her, and chops at her hair. The strands fall like feathers, scattering around her injured body. The resolve that flashed through her head, in that moment, was as intense as Sasuke had ever felt. She was determined to save her friends. No matter what it took, it was her duty as a shinobi of the Leaf.

I just watch them from behind. Those two always covered my back and fought for me. This time…this time, I want all of you to watch me from behind!

She weaves hand signs, confusing her opponents as they attack and she substitutes — attack, substitutes— attacks and…and then she's real, bleeding, biting her mouth down hard on one of Orochimaru's pawns in an effort to save Naruto.

"To save…me," Sasuke mouths breathlessly.

Hit after hit…It hurts him secondhand. Although not physical, the emotions little Sakura experienced pierced his chest. Inner Sakura takes to his side, shrugging her shoulders as the scene played out. A steady, matter-of-fact tone drawls out. "Why are you watching? You already know how this ends."

The weight on his heart only gets heavier as time moves on. Sakura's grief oozes into Sasuke as flashbacks roll in. A Genin slaps her hand away when she reaches for his curse mark and when she peels apples from the side of his hospital bed. Hands, his hands chirp with blue lightning chakra as he rushes towards Naruto's swirling rasengan—this time, on the rooftop of a building.

Don't do it! Don't do it!

"Does it end?" He says aloud, already so tired…so very tired…

The specter within Sakura laughs. "No. It doesn't end. This is just from before you left, too. I think she focuses on your younger version most often, because even though these awful things happened, you still showed a bit of care and kindness towards us. These are the easiest to relive."

Like a newscaster, inner Sakura waves her hand in front of the projected pictures, giving detailed play-by-plays. "Oh, here's where she begs Naruto to bring you back. We trained with Tsunade after that—can you believe we mastered the Mystic Palm technique in just two years? What did you do, during that time?"

"I—" He doesn't know what to say, or rather, how to say it. While Naruto and Sakura trained to get him back, he trained to kill Itachi. While their bonds grew tenfold, Sasuke was making sure his ties remained severed. Orochimaru experimented on him. They took his blood, his chakra. They broke his bones, his mind.

It was all worth it, he thought. It didn't matter what Orochimaru wanted of him, as long as the end goal was completed. He willingly let that demon into his head, underwent procedures that augmented his physical capabilities and forever warped the way he comprehended things.

They only want you back because you're stronger than them. They will make you weak. They don't care about your goals.

Sasuke…could never let Sakura in his head like this, or anyone for that matter. His receptors were flipped. His entire life had been one giant manipulation and no matter who he slayed—Itachi, Danzo—it never was enough to satiate his thirst. He was a man twice Cursed, left with a mentality that may never heal.

I wanted to kill you, Sakura. I wanted to kill everyone. And the worst part was that…those thoughts still invaded his mind. They repeated, over and over, faster and faster, making Sasuke fear that he could one day act on it again. He thinks of his hand around Sakura's throat, squeezing until those green eyes fade into grey and it disgusts him. It haunts him.

Do you know what it's like…to trust no one? Do you know what it's like…to not even trust yourself?

Sakura's voice rings out as her feet tap on cobblestone. As if synchronized, a first-person account showed the day he attacked her. Sasuke's menacing face, tight with fury and determination rushing towards her. I can't let Naruto carry the burden of my heart. Kakashi-sensei shouldn't be liable for a former student. It's my obligation to end this.

Reaching up, Sasuke grabs his neck, feeling the crush of his own throat mimic what she must have felt. His heart beats fast from distress. His eyes sting, a kunai slices through the air.

In the end…I can't do it. I'm still so weak.

Inner Sakura stands beside Sasuke, pulling his hand away. Stoney eyes bore into him. "Do you feel it; her sorrow?"

That was it. Sorrow. Sasuke felt her sadness…because Sakura couldn't even save him from himself. She felt like a failure. She felt like a coward. Every misdeed he committed was a stab in the chest to the boy she used to know. Despite it all, no matter how steady the resolve, her poisoned weapon couldn't even split the fabric of his Uchiha crest.

Without warning, an intense, overwhelming euphoria spreads throughout his sensorium. His heart races and flutters as their consciousness entwines. Heat spreads from deep within his belly, past his chest and up to his face. Sasuke can't take in air.

The grey fingers wrapped around his wrist squeeze him tightly. They're slender and cold. This soul was the pure embodiment of negative emotion, after all. Still, it was Sakura; a piece of her that now lay dormant as she grew and learned. She loved him so much.

Love.

Her love.

Her love would be the death of them.