Chapter 30

Karin removes her headphones as Shikamaru enters the room. She sets the bulky earpieces down on her desk, rubbing her tired eyes from hours spent behind a computer screen. It was the good kind of fatigue though—the righteous kind. (And believe Karin when she says righteous. She's seen plenty immoralities in her lifetime.)

"Is it quitting time already, boss?"

Shikamaru eyes the redhead with admiration. She's worked well into the morning, delving through monotonous film footages from beyond their time. It was certainly more than he'd ever do.

He offers her a soda, because she hates tea and coffee. She takes the can and pops the top, taking her first sip of burning carbonation with a satisfied groan.

"You're a little past "quitting time"."

She adjusts her glasses higher on her nose and smiles up at him. It's a genuine, easy upturn of the mouth. "I've finished with the tapes. They're all ready for the finale. Are they going to start the next round of participants?"

The man nods and takes a seat next to Karin. "The last 10 are going through now. It shouldn't take longer than a couple of weeks." He stares up at the black and white monitor. "You've really surprised me, you know? This uh, what is it called? Music video?—whatever—it's good idea on your part. It's certainly going to bring in the ratings."

Before Karin can thank him earnestly, there's a gentle tap on the door. Both heads turn to greet Sakura Haruno, who's followed closely by the Hokage.

She has a way about her—kind, but firm, sweet, but strict—and it conveys both childlike innocence and the authority of a person with status. As a doctor, it meant she was approachable, but not walked over. And as a friend, it meant she would tell you how it was, but with respectful courteousness. Karin hadn't seen her in this way before.

Respect was such a funny thing.

Her chakra is sending waves of distress towards the Uzumaki woman. It is a painful feeling—depression, grief, regret—but Sakura is good at hiding her emotions. She pulls pink, puffy lips into a gentle, greeting smile.

"Sakura has a request." Lord Hokage says. "Do you have the recordings from the vaccination sector of the hospital?"

The redhead's fingers are already flying on the keyboard. "What date?"

Sakura tells her the approximate information as she leans against the desk. Her thin hips press into the edge, moving the table lightly. Though she's small, she is powerful, and Karin can't help but admire her for that.

Day-long records flutter by in a blur of nurses, doctors and patients.

"There, please," The rosette says, touching the screen.

Sakura watches her body shift past Amu as the young girl enters Sasuke's waiting room. A janitor passes by, stopping to talk for a few moments before continuing with his mundane tasks.

Slowly, the door opens. Sasuke takes two solid steps, but his third is unsteady, forcing him to lean against the wall momentarily. His fingers run through his thick, messy locks before he takes off walking down the hall again with a sturdier pace.

It is right there, all of the proof she needed and didn't want. Obviously they couldn't show the inside of the examination room—there weren't any camera's there, but this was close enough.

"Can you burn this onto a disk for me?"

Karin is very polite with her as she pops the blank CD into the computer compartment. She was well-versed in this type of technology from Orochimaru's hidden compounds.

Her day job was a breeze, which was the best kind of "work".

"What's going on? Is this top-secret or something?"

Sakura blows a messy tendril of hair out of her eyes. "Oh, Sasuke almost died the other day and I wanted to see who tried to kill him. Apparently, it was my favorite student."

It's said in a sarcastically blasé tone.

Kakashi pipes up, reading his previous student incorrectly. "It's not good to pick favorites, you know."

"Bite me."

This time, there's no mistaking her flame. Ah, she's in one of her moods. She sounds like Rin…

"I'll leave her punishment in your hands, then." He says dismissively and walks out into the hall, balancing his erotica carefully between his thumb and forefinger. Crisis averted.

To Sakura's surprise, Karin doesn't seem especially jarred by the revelation. It certainly wasn't the first time she'd seen Sasuke's life in danger throughout their time together. Perhaps she was accustomed to assassination attempts, which was just as tragic as it was deplorable.

Sakura thinks of the argument she had with Sasuke. She thinks of her empty bed that smelled faintly like him—his abandoned toothbrush—his spare clothing sitting atop her laundry machine. Something sickening churns in her stomach, bubbling around the acid.

Sakura wants to know what Sasuke meant by his word and actions. She was thoroughly confused. What was so bad about falling in love? Why did he insist on pushing her away, and then ask for her lips when it was all said and done?

A reconnaissance mission was just what she needed. Who better than the only other female on his previous team? Especially considering Sasuke had…most likely had sex with her, after Itachi died. She shakes away the thought.

"Karin," Sakura says, accepting the paper case the woman handed to her. "Would you…like to grab breakfast with me? I haven't eaten yet."

Karin had never really been invited out like that. She didn't harbor any animosity towards the woman anymore—in fact, she was rooting for her. Her heart thrummed quietly in her chest as Shikamaru answers for her.

"She'd love to. She needs a break, anyways. We can't keep paying her for 16 hour shifts."

That's how Sakura ended up sitting adjacent to Karin Uzumaki at the newly opened café on the north side of town.

It was stylish and modern, built with expensive furnishings in an uncomplicated way. The kitchen was open for full view, and the hostesses were polite. A man sets Sakura's second sweet coffee down in front of her, nodding briefly before dashing off.

There was a bit of awkwardness between them, but Sakura was extroverted and broke the ice easily. "How do you like your new job? I was sad to hear you dropped out of the exam."

Karin had just taken a bite of her omelet. She sputtered, patting the side of her mouth on a cloth napkin before responding. "It's really easy. Shikamaru thinks I'd be better in interrogation, but I don't think…I'd like to be around that. Or hospitals, ya know…just for a little while."

Sakura didn't know too much about Karin's previous life. She assumed that the woman had been…used frequently, considering her skin was marred with permanent bite marks.

Which marks belonged to Sasuke?

She removes her eyes from Karin's neck, remembering Sasuke's fangs and tongue as they tasted the flesh above her own jugular. "I understand. I didn't want to be a medic in the beginning. I was actually more inclined towards genjutsu illusions and avoidance."

Karin curiously regards her. "I wouldn't peg you as that type. You're so naturally talented in healing."

Sakura smiles and sips her warm brew. It's bittersweet and scalding, but she savors the taste. "I don't want to beat around the bush any longer, Karin. I'd like to ask you a few questions about Sasuke."

The redhead opens her mouth quickly, perhaps to refuse the request, but Sakura continues. "I'm not—I'm not your rival or your enemy. I want to help him."

Karin considers the genuine tone to Sakura's voice.

Sakura has innocent eyes and unmarred skin. She looks naïve to the true tragedies of the world around her—including those that Sasuke himself had been subjected to. But she was a kunoichi, and as a doctor, she's probably seen most of these atrocities face-to-face. Saying those words aloud was difficult, nonetheless.

"Sasuke's…afflictions…need to be self-healed."

"What ails him? What did they do to him—in that place?"

A roasted cherry tomato calls her name, and when Karin's red lips enclose on the warm fruit, it bursts into her mouth like a flavor bomb. She chews it fully before speaking again. "They did a lot of things."

"Karin, I genuinely want to understand him. You're the only one that I can speak with about this."

Karin wished Sakura would just give up on the man. It would save her a lot of turmoil. He was broken and shattered after all—probably beyond repair. Sakura could find a nice husband and a warm house and spend the rest of her days healing and battling and becoming whatever the hell she wanted to be. Just like the old "Mom, dad, 2.5 children, a dog and a white picket fence" cliché.

"Kabuto was ordered to heighten Sasuke's pain tolerances." Karin says, remembering the files thrown haphazardly on that man's desk. The papers flash behind her eyes—data of Sasuke's improvements and failures. "There was a lot of stuff involved. Things I…I really don't want to talk about. It was all voluntary for him, though. I wish I could say the same about the others."

"You can be vague, but I need more information than that." Sakura says, crossing her legs.

"Environmental endurance," She takes another bite of her omelet, but it doesn't taste as good as it did before. Speaking about cruelty left her stomach hollow. "Resilience to shock, poison immunity—his pain and passion receptors were flipped. Good felt bad and bad felt good…that sort of stuff. It involved things like bloodletting, induced hypo- and hyperthermia, psychological torture, and drugs—like a lot of drugs."

Sakura tries her best to remain impassive, but the information was debilitating.

"I was called once to heal him, but I wasn't…I wasn't allowed to see. Orochimaru didn't really want to scar his body, ya know. So…most of it was internal, to make his mind weak so it would be easier to take. Sleep deprivation, solitary confinement, sensory removal—"

"Okay." Sakura gnaws at her lip, going through the information. She expected most of the abuse. Even as a girl, the pictures she had never seen haunted her dreams. But…mental manipulation hadn't really crossed her mind. Didn't Itachi do enough already? "His receptors were flipped?"

Karin nods.

Did that have anything to do with his detachment to Sakura's advances? Was it really…agonizing for him to fall in love?

"He used to have feelings for you." The redhead says suddenly. Sakura looks up at her with curious eyes, wondering where the sudden announcement came from.

Karin wouldn't have said it if it wasn't true. She'd heard Sakura's first confession, after all, when Shikamaru forced Sasuke down and showed Naruto and Kakashi. In fact, it's what let her to start working in the surveillance subdivision.

The woman had longed to see Sasuke's true smile for as long as she could remember. In Team 7's old film, Karin's dreams finally came true. Genin missions and training spars appeared on monitor she'd sat by for hours upon hours.

Sasuke touched Sakura often—mostly in protection, but not always. He was near; his hand always hovered just beyond her skin. Ah, watching a young and prepubescent Uchiha certainly was a good way to pass the time. (Plus, she was getting paid for it.)

But…he was not an innocent child anymore. He'd been molded by the cruelties of the world, formed into a deadly-killing-machine-turned-good-guy by Naruto's heavy influence.

Karin didn't see very many virtuous, genuine people. Sakura's kind were few and far between. She was destined to save the world in a way that neither Sasuke nor Naruto could do, and Karin would make sure that happened.

Sasuke Uchiha would only smear her.

Karin cared for him, really, she did. But maybe it wasn't the normal type of "caring"—because she felt everyone would be better off if he was left to roam the earth while life in sweet, pure Konoha bustled on. She had a feeling Sasuke felt the same way.

The curse of the Uchiha would die with him.

"He favored for you deeply. But, during my travels with him, I realized that Sasuke…could not be redeemed." She thinks of the impurity within his chakra. She can still sense it—a ball of black, surrounded by the deepest purple you've ever seen. "There's something within him that I don't think even you could ever reach."

She stands now with a full belly, and thanks Sakura for the date. There was still much to be done before the exams. Karin was going to make sure Sakura saw her side of things.

Soon.

Sakura wasn't all that surprised to come to an empty home yet again. It felt like she'd been away for years, though dirt didn't cover her countertops or anything of the sort.

The second round would be coming to an end in a few days' time. She was proud to say that her solo battleax training sessions had been wonderful as of late. Her muscles ached, and her skin was soaked, and her hair stuck out every which way. She makes her way to her shower, washing off layers of cold dirt and autumn air.

Sakura hadn't seen Naruto or Sasuke in a week. Hojo, however, had been visiting frequently.

Sakura helped Amu get a job as a waitress at an expensive restaurant by the Hokage Tower. Hojo would bring his niece by often—she wasn't yet one and had only a small layer of hair on her pink scalp. Her grin was gummy and her eyes sparkled, and Sakura could only hope the second chance she'd given Amu would be put to good use. If not for Amu, than for the sweet angel she gave birth to.

She wasn't spending time in a jail cell, after all.

Sakura insisted on babysitting every weekend, and her first experience would be tonight. She felt a little silly—what doctor didn't know how to change a baby's diaper? But she learned with Hojo's patience, and it had only taken three days of practice to become an expert. (Eye roll)

Sakura suds her locks and runs her loofa down the length of her arms.

It was sad to know that life, indeed, continued on without Sasuke's presence. It was sad that Sakura was slowly getting used to an empty home. Sasuke wasn't much of a guest, anyways. It was sad to know that…that he could truly leave, and it would almost be the same as him being here.

She glances at her reflection in the mirror above the sink.

She was still leggy and plain looking, but surprisingly, her stomach had gotten more toned and her hips seemed a bit wider. She smiles briefly and her smooth, unblemished face before dunking her head under the steaming spray of water.

When she walks out of the bathroom, she hears the front door open and close. She pads to the foyer, barefoot, in only a large tee-shirt and a thin pair of pajama shorts. It midafternoon; Hojo would be bringing Ahiru by soon.

She sees Sasuke's dark cloak first as he hangs it on her coat hook.

Seeing his face sends a flood of emotions through her—so much so that her body physically starts to tremble. Suddenly, things weren't okay. She pauses, meeting his placid expression with her own shocked one.

His shirt was tore and he was bleeding profusely from a nasty gash on his cheek. His visible skin was riddled with various bruises and bloodstains. Sakura quickly swings into medic-mode, ushering him inside without the slightest bit of hesitancy. Using her knee to shove aside her coffee table, she gently eases him to his back on her couch.

"What happened to you?" Are we under attack? Is this another assassination attempt? You came back to me?

"Naruto," he replies with a low voice.

Her hands pool mint into his ribcage and her eyebrows knit together as she estimates the severity of damage. She shakes her head, gently running her palm over his clothed chest. "Your left lung is punctured, you have three broken ribs—fifteen are fractured."

All the while, Sasuke watches.

Her bottom lip juts out just a bit, glistening from the moisture her tongue bathes it with. She blows at her bangs, unsuccessfully moving them from her line of view as both hands press into the trunk of Sasuke's torso.

She's concentrating, he knows this. But her proximity is too much. With steady fingers, he tucks defiant strands behind her ear. Sakura breaks her focus. She's startled, like a rabbit after hearing a leaf crunch from under a hunters boot.

"Sasuke,"

Sasuke sighs from her jutsu—it's delicious and pure and fills his body.. He gazes at her with half-lidded eyes. Slowly his thumb touches the curve of her mouth and the indention of her cupids bow. It's calloused and coarse against her skin.

"I don't want to stay with Naruto anymore." He confesses, feeling a little lightheaded.

"We can talk about this in a moment." She says breathily. "I need to—"

"They're weird."

She shifts, propping her knee upon the cushion so she can hover above his wound. Although his attitude denied his true pain, Sakura understood the severity of his damage. Some patients needed to be talked to during procedures—especially if they were edging on delirium. She's heard that filling someone else with chakra was…rather intimate, but it seemed Sasuke was especially sensitive to this procedure.

"What do you mean?"

Flashback

"You don't like vegetables." Sasuke commented, watching Hinata sit after she placed a bowl of seasoned carrots, broccoli and cucumber out on the table. She opened up the pinkest, brightest book he'd ever seen.

Naruto paused and looked at the tree-like plant pressed between his fingers. It was true; he hated the taste and the texture. Eating healthy was about as fulfilling as…as stale air. He shrugged and popped the thing into his mouth.

"She likes it when I eat right." He'd said.

"What does that have to do with anything?"

Sasuke didn't…understand. If Naruto hated something—loathed it, even—why would he cast his own feelings aside just because his…wife…liked it?

After another hearty bite, the man looked at his bride who paid no mind to their conversation. She was scribbling possible names in her notepad. There was a longer list of girls than boys, and for some reason, that made Naruto think she was pegging for a blond haired, white eyed daughter. That and her affinity for everything pink…with her luck, they'd end up having a boy.

Naruto rubbed his chin thoughtfully. This was a hard thing to explain, after all.

"Hinata…has these towels in the spare bathroom with my clan insignia on it. I can't touch them. I can't dry my hands on them. They're for "guests", and it annoys the hell out of me. Why would we have something in our home that we can't even use?"

Sasuke listened, because Naruto usually had a point.

"I can't walk around our house with my shoes on, either. She wants me to buy 2% milk—like there's a difference between that and 1%." He rolls his eyes. "Why is it a big deal if I use the dishes her parents gave us at our wedding? They're just catching dust in that weird cabinet with the windows in it! Why do I need to put down the toilet seat when I use it? Why can't she watch what she's doing?"

Sasuke looks back to Hinata, who is seething, pretending not to pay attention to the conversation. Her pen bends dangerously under her pale, manicured thumb.

But just like that, her attitude dissipates, because Naruto's hand reaches out to the black-haired kunoichi and he gives his brightest smile. Heat powders Hinata's cheeks.

It's not the same blush that turned her skin red in their youth.

It's something deeper, something realer.

Something sparks between them—so strongly it's almost palpable.

"I'll eat whatever she makes, and I'll love it. I'll dry my hands on the back of my pants, I'll take off my shoes, I'll buy that damned 2% milk, and I'll make sure to adjust the toilet seat so she doesn't fall in and get stuck or something."

"I'd do anything within my power for her. Because she's my partner and because her feelings are just as significant as mine; it's important to her, so it's important to me."

He looks at Sakura fully. Could he do such things for her? Better yet…could he allow some man to come into her life and not love her the way Naruto loved Hinata? Sasuke starts to fume. "They're always touching each other."

"Mm, yeah, some couples do that." Her voice is distant.

Some couples do that?

She suddenly feels his left hand move to her knee. It's hesitant, and the wrappings of his prosthetic arm feel just as foreign to her as the heat from his hand that cradles her cheek. The slow drag sends a pleasant jitter through her spine.

He's hurting, though. She has no time to worry about wandering hands. "I'm almost done, just relax."

"They kiss all of the time, too." He whispers.

Leisurely his palm trails upwards, gathering around the plumpness upper thigh. Sakura starts to feel woozy. She adjusts herself so that his hand is more outwards than inwards, and continues along.

Glancing down, Sakura sees that his eyes are glazed over—his mind is somewhere else.

Flashback

"You're a fucking dumbass." The kyuubi had said, commenting about Sakura and Sasuke's previous fight. "You know she just cares about you. It's been six days already, stop moping around."

He landed a solid hit to Sasuke's chest, slinging him rearwards. Pebbles flew around as his back slammed into rock, creating a gruesome crack in the mountainside. Sasuke's ears rang from the G-force. Picking himself out of the crevice Naruto created, he huffed.

"That's the problem."

"I can't keep playing umpire with you two. I'm a papa now." Naruto replied as he dodges kusanagi. "Nut up or shut up,"

"What do you want me to do?" Sasuke spat, slashing once more at the thick flesh of his brothers throat. "I can't…be the person she wants me to be."

Driving his sword into the ground, Sasuke used his moonlight technique for leverage and threw his fist into Naruto's whiskered cheek. His head whipped sideways painfully, sending a spray of blood to the ground.

Naruto wiped his chin, and created a clone. His rasengan whirred. "You're already the person she wants you to be."

Sasuke did not watch Naruto approach.

Instead, he looked at his hands. They were stained with the blood of people he couldn't really remember; blank faces and dead eyes and forgotten backgrounds. Sin weighed heavily on his tainted heart and on his sullied soul.

Why would anyone, especially Sakura, be so drawn to him? But more importantly…

What the hell am I supposed to do about it?

Naruto had hit him with a steady blast. He felt his ribs cave in under the pressure, knocking the air out of him and forcing blackness to fuzz into his peripherals. The orange man stood above him, amazed that Sasuke had allowed for such a hit. He crossed his arms, answering the question Sasuke was sure he didn't say aloud.

"Stop pushing her away. Just let it happen. I've already told you, dumbass." Naruto knew, after all, how his own romance bloomed from this realization.

Sasuke brushes his knuckles against her lower stomach now, and while he does this, he cannot think of much except for the fact that Naruto was completely wrong.

Sasuke Uchiha decided that love was a choice.

It wasn't something that just happened—not for him, anyways. He would never blame this…want…this…feeling on happenchance or destiny, or any other melodramatic bullshit.

Love was a decision.

And Sasuke Uchiha finally decided.

"Sasuke?" Sakura calls out as his left hand glides up the hem of her shirt. Though she's not finished healing him, Sasuke makes his move. Suddenly gripping her wide hip with Hashirama's hand, and cradling the nape of her neck with his right, Sasuke pulls her down to him hungrily.

His mouth tastes like spring water and ice.

Her eyes open wide before finally fluttering closed, because she can't believe this is happening again, and she's so happy it is. Their noses brush against each other as Sasuke deepens the kiss—it's a new type, a new flavor other than lust and hesitancy and raw passion.

Sasuke moves for her to straddle him. Her knee presses into the cushion beside his still injured side, but he doesn't feel anything but her skin on his skin, and her heart throbbing against his sternum, and her hand pushing him away.

Pushing me…?

"You're hurt,"

"I'm fine." He replies thickly.

"Your cheek is still bleeding and—"

Sasuke presses his lips harder against hers. He's been denied this for too long—even as a boy, his second-guessing and indecision is what caused him to steal her lips six years ago. Sasuke was not a thief. He was not a degenerate. He was not bad.

Sakura feels his hand on her lower back, falling down to cup her bottom unabashedly. She gasps against him, flushing from his arrogant confidence. But, in the same sense, it was purely Sasuke—the real Sasuke—and it had been a long time since she's seen this side of him.

His nails bite, leaving crescent indentions through the thin material of her shorts. Lowering his mouth to the curve of her jawline, to the swoop of her neck, his teeth find their favorite spot right above her pulse.

His fingertips bypass her skirts waistband and brush against the cotton of her panties, gliding over her round—

"Sasuke, wait…"

Her head spins, feeling his hot palms near two of her most sensitive areas. His thumb skims the underside of her breast and he squeezes her bottom simultaneously, feeling her up like it was the most natural thing in the world.

It is natural. Inner Sakura says with a scoff. You're just not used to it.

The warmth of his hot blood smooths onto her clavicle as he moves down, still trickling from his barely closed gash. "Let me heal you first, please, Sa…"

"In a minute," He mumbles against her skin, leaving his mark.

He moves lower and higher simultaneously with both hands, teasing her covered middle and the crown of her breast. She trembles against him, fighting with herself on which decision to take.

Sasuke dots his kisses and bites along her strong, bony shoulder. Then, bravely, the Uchiha enters the elastic of her underwear. Everything is velvet smooth, smoldering hot, begging for his stroke. He finds her wetness, letting his fingers linger longer than she can stand., and lazily massages unhurried circles.

Sakura grips his bicep painfully in response.

"You want me," He says, and she doesn't think she's heard such a gravelly voice come from him in all of her life.

"More than anything," Hers, instead, is tremulous. Her hips curl inwards, sliding along his fingers. It feels so right. It feels like this was always meant to happen.

Before she can even moan, there's a quick knock on the front door.

"Damn!" she hisses and pulls away with a jump.

Her heat leaves him too quickly—almost as though he's fallen into a frozen lake. Sasuke folds his arms behind his head and watches her run to the foyer and stand on her tiptoes to look through the peephole.

"Oh no, nononono,"

"What is it?"

She paces around in a circle, cupping her cheeks as she thinks. They're sticky, and she removes her hand to see that it's red with Sasuke's plasma. Groaning softly and rolling her eyes, she looks at him.

"Ugh, uh, can you—can you answer the door for me? I've got to go change. Tell them I'm in the bathroom, okay?"

Before he has a chance to respond, Sakura is already bounding down the hall. He sighs, adjusts himself, and makes his way to her door. When he pulls it open, Yuma Hojo turns to greet him with a baby on his hip.

The two men's eyes meet. It seemed Sakura had made a decision, too.