Chapter 25

Ice cream is a strange treat to have when cold was in the air. A chill had blown in earlier in the day, while it rained, sending greenery from trees and villagers indoors. But Sakura couldn't resist a free dessert, so she spooned a bite of cream and a frozen strawberry into her mouth, letting her tongue spread over the sweetness. She purrs.

"You're awfully happy, forehead."

Her bliss turns to misery. "You voice has ruined it."

Ino steals her spoon, dipping it into the sundae roughly. "You're so weird—it's freezing outside and you order this."

"Then don't eat it."

Ino mewls as she takes in the dollop. It was strangely satisfying, even in such dreary weather. "Don't change the subject. What happened last night?"

"We kissed." Sakura shrugs like it's not one the greatest thing that's happened to her. They kissed—and kissed and kissed and kissed. He drifted off to her touch, and stayed by her until daylight. She kissed him this morning, too.

It was amazing, wasn't it?

She sighs— a woman is in love.

"That's it? No juicy details, no raunchy back-story….nothing?"

There wasn't really anything to tell. It was not risqué or naughty—Sakura knew she could look back and remember this moment without feeling like it was a stolen or embarrassing thing. Sakura wouldn't regret this, not ever.

"I wore my dad's shirt and my spandex. And I went to bed next to him and…and we talked. A lot."

As Sakura speaks, her voice lowers, because for some reason it sounds…not so perfect, when she explains what happened aloud. It was perfect, though! It was amazing and beautiful and everything she thought it should be. It belonged in a book or a teen magazine for other girls to dream and covet.

"I was upset." She continues. "Well, frustrated sounds like a better word. I asked Sasuke if he hated me, and then he, uh, told me that he didn't."

It wasn't pathetic, no way.

"I asked him if I could kiss him, and he said that I could. I meant to go for the lips—honestly, I did—but I chickened out and kissed his nose and he kind of, like, laughed at me."

It wasn't pathetic…was it?

"Sakura…" Her friend's voice is skeptical. "This isn't exactly…what I had pictured."

Her spoon clangs against the glass. The dessert isn't so sweet anymore.

"Did you, um, actually kiss him? Like on the mouth?"

The kunoichi suddenly doesn't feel like talking anymore. While confessing it aloud, her resolve had wavered. What would she say, anyways? "Yep, sure did. In fact, he fell asleep during it!" Sakura chews on the inside of her cheek, finding the same spot from last night's timid picking.

Ino groans so loudly that a few restaurant goers look her way. The dishwater blonde throws her silky ponytail over her slender shoulder habitually. "You're joking. You can't be this…"

But Sakura knows that she is.

Sakura was unexperienced with relationships—to kisses and hugs and teases and sex. She didn't know what was proper and improper; things like how to behave during or after. It was easy in a hospital setting—everything involving romance was improper, so seeing bare members of society never bothered her in the least.

Was Sakura really so blind? It was as if she'd forced Sasuke into everything. She'd sounded so pitiful, he just let her have her way so she'd shut up. Sasuke had called her annoying plenty of times. Did he just…feel sorry for her? She heels her chin, leaning onto her elbow as rain starts to spray the window beside her. It seemed that her mood reflected the clouds above them.

Ino's heart lurches at Sakura's downcast expression. It reminded her of when the girl hid behind her bangs, shying away from the world. Ino had guided her then—when she was just a bud—and she would guide her now, into the beautiful flower she truly deserved to be.

"It's only been one night." She begins with a dismissive hand-wave.
"Besides, you said the boys were at your house? I doubt Sasuke could mess around with you, knowing Naruto was a few feet away."

Sakura spoons another bite into her mouth as Ino continues.

"Yesterday was shit. So what? You've got a while until the next exams start…I mean; we're still technically in the middle. I'd say you still have a few months for everything to fall into place."

"So what do I do?" Sakura asks. "Do I still need to…practice?"

Ino nods her head. "I'd say so—especially after, uh….that. What…did he say afterwards? What did he say when you said you wanted to kiss him?"

"He told me to "do whatever I want"."

Ino rubs her chin thoughtfully. "…and…what do you want?"

More than anything, she wanted to be with Sasuke. She wanted bond with him in every sense of the word—the closeness of a friendship intermingled with the feel of his skin.

"I want to watch movies with him." Sakura began. She thought of theatre dates and buttery popcorn—whispers shared between the two as a film played on.

"I want to hold his hand, and I want to tell him jokes and hear his laugh—his real laugh. I want him to talk to me about things that are important to him." What are Sasuke's hobbies? How far had he traveled before he returned?

Did he have a favorite meal? "I want to cook for him every morning and night. And more than anything, I want to fall asleep next to him and wake up in his arms with morning breath and messy hair and goofy grins…I want all of it."

Ino stares at Sakura.

She's more than Sasuke deserves, that's for sure. She's generous and delicate and her heart is so full of love that Sasuke simply could not ignore. Ino had slowly started to feel that way when Sai was around—less lust and more longing.

How long had Sakura felt this way?

The woman places a few bills on the table. "Let's walk to your house. I want to hear some more."

The stroll is short, and surprisingly not as wet as she expected it to be (besides the occasional puddle). Ino has always enjoyed Sakura's neighborhood; it was clean and safe and perfect for a single woman that lived alone.

They strolled past a row of dewy autumn chrysanthemums, blooming pale petals of yellow and eggshell white. There's a jingle as Sakura removes her keys, sliding the metal into the lock before stepping into her apartment.

"Do you want tea?" Sakura's words hang in the air. The room feels stuffy and thick, as if it were foreboding something ominous.

"Do you feel that?" Ino asks, keeping her voice hushed.

Sakura walks around her living area slowly. There's a trashcan filled with vomit and alcohol bottles, a sofa cushion is askew, and as she makes her way down the hallway she sees that someone has broken her toilet seat in half. A drunken night of stupor did not cause this miasma, though. She didn't wake up to this haze, and noticed all of this mess before leaving for work.

Something else was wrong.

"Sakura," Ino says, pointing to the staircase that led to the attic. It was down, and thrown layers of clothing left a trail straight to the top. His coat, his shoes, his kunai holster—Sasuke was here?

"C'mon, pig."

As they make their way up the creaking narrow steps, Sakura hears a shuffle, a pant. The room is dim and the air his humid unlike the wispy breeze that carried the rainy scent from outside.

She fumbles around for a lamp and once everything is visible, Sasuke's splayed body comes in to view. His hand is grasping the fabric of his shirt and his eyes are squeezed shut. Sasuke's trying to suck in air that could not fill his lungs.

He's asphyxiating.

"Sasuke!"

Sakura is on him in moments, morphing into paramedic mode. She's seasoned to these situations, after all. Years of following Tsunade around and months of war had taught her well.

She rolls Sasuke over on his back and checks his mouth for any obstructions. "Can you hear me? Can you speak?"

His face is whitish and his skin is like lava; his lips and fingertips are already starting to blue from lack of oxygen. Sakura runs her fingers down the inside of his wrist routinely—there's hardly any pulse.

"Pull him to the ground, Ino—CPR."

They move methodically, heaving the man roughly to the hardwood floor. His eyes open briefly from the pain that radiates through his spine and skull, but he's still unresponsive.

They are less worried about physical pain—in fact; this next step will probably leave him with a few cracked ribs. Sakura starts pumping his chest with the heel of her hand. With her elbows locked and using her bodyweight as leverage, she continues the systematic rhythm.

As she pushes, blood starts to trickle out of Sasuke's nose. It's a thick, coagulated gel that oozes down the corner of his mouth. Her mind spins as she takes in the symptoms. Blood is gelatinous, heartrate is null, extremities losing oxygen, unconsciousness—Sakura knows what this is and her heart falls into her stomach.

He's been poisoned.

"Call Shizune," Sakura bites out. It's not just any type of pollution. It belonged to Sakura—her specifically made toxin that she meant to kill Sasuke with all those months ago. "It's my poison."

Ino bounds down the steps, understanding the severity of the situation and leaves Sakura to the dirty work. The woman feels for his breath by inching her cheek near his nasal cavity. His sternum is unmoving and breath does not fan her face—he's still not breathing.

Carefully Sakura tilts Sasuke's head back and lifts his chin, making a seal by pinching his nostrils. Her lips mold to his and she exhales, watching his chest rise successfully. He gasps, inhaling every bit of oxygen his body had been deprived of and his hands reach out to grab something—anything. Her shirt, her hair, her face—he squeezes it all tightly in his fists.

Sasuke's body starts back up slowly as respiration naturally expands his lungs. His fingers move and his eyebrows draw together as a painful moan escapes from the back of his throat as electricity currents throughout his body.

"Sasuke, who did this to you; can you hear me?"

Sasuke couldn't.

It was like every cell within his body was ablaze. Everything hurt, everything throbbed…are his eyes opened or closed? It's all white…blindingly white.

He could feel the Grim Reaper's bony hands digging into his flesh. He's never been this close to him, to death. If he could just stay conscious—just a little while longer—his body would fight off the venom on its own. Sasuke knew how this worked all too well, after all. This pain was familiar.

Under Orochimaru's command, Kabuto had filled his bloodstream with all sorts of toxins and modified diseases. His body forced out the contaminants naturally, but it took intense concentration.

Perhaps it was just the way his body was set up. In the deepest recesses of sleep, his brain sometimes stopped sending the correct signals. He remembered his panic as a child when he woke up with deflated lungs and blue lips. Sleep apnea—it's what his mother called it.

In his younger days, when he only saw flecks of gray and gloom, Sasuke was sure his body was trying to off itself. Itachi had kept him alive out of pity and his soul denied the shame.

Whatever the reasoning was, Sasuke could not fight if he was unconscious. Although his sharingan could see on a molecular level, his eyes weren't able comprehend what this particular poison was doing. He hadn't yet encountered anything so powerful. It clotted his blood and congested his veins, like a snake's bite.

His ears ring dully now.

It reminds him of the bells on the Uchiha shrine—ding, ding, ding. He had never associated the sound with…expiry before. It used to be calming, relaxing, like his family tolled the chimes to let him know everything was okay.

But it wasn't okay.

Sasuke wasn't ready to die.

What would Naruto write on his grave? "Here lies Sasuke Uchiha, taken down by a teenaged girl. What a fucking dumbass, amirite?" And what would Sakura think about all of this?

Sakura Haruno with the freckles so light, they were practically invisible. Sakura Haruno with the big smile, the contagious laugh: affectionate, tenacious, smart, caring, ruthless. Sakura Haruno, the cherry tree blossom that loved him more than anyone else had in all of his life.

Suddenly, he doesn't just think of her, he feels her.

Mint cools his lungs better than any cigarette—he can breathe again, his heart is pumping and his blood is flowing and his feet don't feel numb. Voices drift in and out: "Is Shizune here?", "Where is the antidote?", "What do you mean it's been destroyed?"

Sasuke opens his eyes and sees bubblegum pink. Too loud, too much—he closes them once more.

"He's regaining consciousness,"

"Go get some water."

He smells her, too. She's invading all of his senses—sight, hearing, touch, and smell. But not taste.

Taste…? Wh…what would she taste like? Candy, probably…He shakes his head, fighting delirium.

"Why can't you use your Delicate Illness Extraction technique?" Ino asks. Her voice is like nails on a chalkboard.

There's a ripping noise, a fumbling of paper.

Sakura watches as Ino starts to prepare an adrenalin shot. "I'm not sure how long he's been like this, but the poison has already enmeshed in his bloodstream. I can't extract it—it's too broken up."

Ino watches as Shizune bounds up the steps once more, this time with a defibrillator. Sakura looks at her fleetingly. "I've got his heart started back up, neither of you will be necessary."

Shizune eyes her skeptically. "You're going to physically keep the poison away, then?"

Sakura presses her hands harder into his chest as a green glow seeps from her palm. It was the only thing she could do—if the arteries in his heart jam again, it would be harder to start it back up…maybe even impossible. "I have to."

The two women watch in admiration as she strains. Sakura knew how powerful her reserves were. It took three days to refill Naruto—she could sustain Sasuke for much longer. "How long will it take to make the remedy?"

Shizune pulls out Sakura's notepad. She'd found it amongst the undercover files, buried and locked away at the woman's desk. She thumbs through the pages of diagrams and formulas—plant extracts, animal venom and the like. "I thought you destroyed every trace of this after The Land of Iron incident."

She had. Every last trace was demolished…except for her notepad. The writings should have been indecipherable to everyone except Tsunade, Shizune and herself. Sakura didn't understand what was going on—who had found her secret toxin? Who was sophisticated enough to reformulate it?

She'd only prepared a few vials of stuff, anyways. It had been specially created for Sasuke as a fool-proof means of execution. One cut could down even the strongest of ninja. Her plan had failed, because Kakashi said that Sasuke was immune.

But then…but then…Why was he dying?

"So you're planning on doing this until he wakes up?" Ino asks. Sakura's arms are already shaking from exertion.

"I have to, Ino," The girl repeats. "I have to."

The blonde watches Sasuke gasp. Every outbreath was excruciating.

Ino could admit that there had been a time when she would have paid to see this weakness; this imperfection in him. Sasuke had always an impermeable fortress. He had risked the lives of many. His shudders, his blood made Ino see him as the human he really was. He was a man, not a God. He was allowed his mistakes just like any other person. Is this what Sakura knew all along?

"Who could have done this?"

Sakura didn't know.

She would kill them, though.

She would find them, and kill them, and make sure they never messed with Sasuke ever again. She was tired of the stares, of the unsubstantiated rumors. Sasuke was a good man, a kind man. Anyone that thought differently was just plain wrong. "I'll figure it out soon enough."

"That's pretty hopeful of you," Shizune responds while folding a blanket under the Uchiha's head. His skin is fevered and sticky with sweat. "We don't know how long he's been out. His brain could have gone without oxygen for a half-hour—maybe more. He's in a vegetative state."

It was hopeful, Sakura knew that. But she also knew that Sasuke just so happened to be the Deities favorite plaything. They teased him, taunted his strength, and pushed him near the edge of death…but they did not toss him over. It was a sick game.

"We need to remove his clothing and get him off of the floor." The kunoichi barks.

It takes all three women to lift Sasuke. His bed is drenched in perspiration and jelly-like blood—not sterile conditions at all. With a silent, but knowing nod, the girls carefully inch him down the staircase and into Sakura's room.

"What do I need to bring from the hospital?" Shizune asks as they boost him onto the bed. "A feeding tube, a catheter, maybe a trach…"

Ino starts working on his shirt as Sakura re-adjusts her position on the bed, burying her knees in the mattress. It's uncomfortable, but manageable, and it gives her full access to every part of him.

The skin on his stomach is tanned and toned. With each pant, his abdominals move and glisten as light streams from the open window. Finally, the sun had started to come out—but sadly, it was falling below the horizon.

Ino's blue eyes trail down, following the indentions and curves of Sasuke's Adonis belt. He was handsome even in suffering.

She shakes her head—she's a professional, but still a woman.

"Ino, take off his bottoms too. He needs to cool down. Shizune, do you mind getting a bowl of ice water from the kitchen and a few rags?"

As the blonde's fingers fumble with the button his on pants, Sasuke's hand shoots out. His grip is bone-crushing and painful. "Oh—"

"Stop,"

But he's not talking to her.

Behind his eyelids he remembers his first time—a boy of only thirteen with a sick ambition and an unhealthy want for power. It's been years since he thought of this moment. The room was misty with smoke and it smelled of cheap sake.

Sasuke feels like he's there, all over again.

The woman before him is an entertainer. Her face is painted white and her lips are smeared with red. Maybe to some she would be beautiful. But Sasuke never saw women in such a way—he had other things to worry about. To the young man, she was simply a clown.

A delicate finger draws him in. "What can I do for you?" She's twenty years his senior. Her voice is sweet and her eyelashes bat when she speaks, but Sasuke is more concerned with the strange smells that roll off of her.

He knows it now—sex, sweat, lust. "Where is Orochimaru?"

Her kimono dips low on her shoulders and the outlines of her breasts come into view. She's a succubus—a vixen with a sick master…the same one Sasuke obeyed.

"Play with me and I'll take you to him."

The young man scoffs. He does not care for such indecencies. Itachi was out there, breathing the air his family had been denied for the last five years. She does not answer his question, so he decides she's not worth his time.

Sasuke turns to leave but her long nails dig into the skin of his upper arm, pulling him nearer. His mother, Mikoto, had told him to never handle a woman harshly. He was still just a child, untrained to the rawness of the world.

He doesn't know what to do except glare.

"Such an ugly face for a handsome man—don't you know Orochimaru sent you here? You need to be purged of your weakness."

Sasuke sneers. "What weakness could you help me with?"

He's harsh and superior, but he was not a cold person. He had not yet fallen.

"Don't you know, silly boy? People sacrifice your kind to the Gods: young, innocent, virgin."

"Do you think I'm a fool?" He asks, stepping away from her vice. "My body will not be sacrificed to anyone—God or Sannin."

The geisha cackles. Maybe it seduced some—that melodic chortle that she hid behind her fan. Sasuke was not prey. He would not fall into her trap.

"How can you hope to do anything when you're not even a man? You need to conquer, do you not?"

Sasuke did not want to conquer women. He had no desire for such things. But she was a temptress—Satan dressed in silk. The hair tied in her a bun at the crown of her head is released. It cascades along with her dress, falling around her dark body like she's shedding a second skin.

She exposes herself to him completely.

"This is first step. I will make you resistant to seduction; Kabuto will make you immune to disease and poison, and Orochimaru….he will succeed in taking control over your body if you do not gain enough power."

Sasuke wanted, more than anything, to be strong. He wanted omnipotence—not just on the battlefield, but in all aspects of his life. More and more he thought of his past life—Ichiraku ramen, Fire Country's humid temperature, his friends.

He did not crave the woman in front of him, but he did crave the power she offered. Sasuke wanted his outward appearance to match how he felt inside.

He was not innocent.

She's on him in moments, stealing his flesh. She confuses his mind and his body—pain and pleasure and love and lust are flip-flopped. Her nails split his skin as she tugs at his waistline. He doesn't want it, but he allows it, because he would do anything to kill Itachi.

But Itachi is dead now.

Sasuke feels a tug at his waistband.

"Stop,"

His hand reaches out, and when his eyes open he sees that it's not a white faced and red lipped woman that meets his gaze. Sakura's hair flutters around, framing her cheeks like they protected her beauty from the outside world.

"Sasuke, can you hear me?"

Her eyes are like jewels. "Yeah,"

Ino's wrist is saved from his grasp when Sakura embraces Sasuke. She's heavier than she looks, but he can handle her weight. Sakura is a safe haven. It's a familiar pressure.

He's been pulled from his nightmare by her caress. She is pleasant and sweet-smelling and innocent to her core. Innocence was not a weakness, he realizes. Especially not when it belongs to her.

She cannot hold back her sob any longer. "How did this happen to you?"

It feels like there's a lead blanket covering his frame. He licks his lips, trying to speak, but everything hurts and his throat is too dry.

Shizune walks in with a bowl of water. She places it on the nightstand and wrings out a rag, letting Sakura dab it onto his damp forehead. Liquid runs down his face.

"Water," He croaks, and slowly he fades back into delirium.

She shakes her head. "You can have an ice chip. No water."

She did not want to risk him inhaling it. She dips her fingers into the ice and pulls out a cube, carefully popping into his mouth. The flake melts over his tongue—it's cooling and refreshing and he needs more.

Sakura is more concerned with his body temperature, however.

Ino tries again to remove his pants after another pointed look from Sakura, but he flails.

"I said don't." Sasuke's growl is menacing, though his wards are garbled.

His slurred voice leads them to believe it's not really Sasuke anymore. The man mumbles, dithering in and out of reality and nightmares. He's pale—paler than he's ever been.

Sakura looks at his scrunching eyes and clammy skin and feels the weight of the world press against her chest.

It was her poison that was killing him. If she had been successful in The Land of Iron, and attacked him while he was weak…Sasuke would have fallen. He is denying their touches, their healing, and Sakura has no idea what to do.

Sasuke needed to be respected. But he also needed help.

Her hand hovers above his chest.

Slowly, his eyes open and the mismatched irises seem to sparkle amongst the setting sun's rays. When Sasuke reaches out to her wrist, it's a much gentler touch. Slowly he presses the skin of her palm to the fevered flesh of his chest, running it down the length of his abdominals.

"You can touch me."

Heat flares to her face and the hairs at the nape of her neck stand at attention. She flickers her eyes away from him to Ino, who is watching with a stunned gape.

W…what?

Sasuke's core feels empty. The mint has gone, everything hurts. He wants the waves of pain that ripple from every inch of his bones to stop already. He looks up and sees her—green eyes, pink lips, soft hair—and all he can think about is her chakra.

Heal me.

He holds her hand and slides it down his chest, where his heart beats weakly. It runs over his sticky middle in a way that was almost ticklish. But the pain is still there.

Heal me.

Sasuke shakes the appendage forcefully, wanting her luminosity, her coolness.

When he feels her pressing those radiant tips into his flesh, he throws his head back into her pillow and inhales her scent. Fuck.

Sakura watches as he takes in her life force, greedily sucking up every ounce of energy. He bites his lip, gnashes his teeth together, and Sasuke doesn't wake up until twenty-four hours have passed.